Way I look at it, this is a win-win-win situation, because I get tons of money, the boys at the publishing office smell great—or at least as great as bookworms can possibly smell—and you guys get to keep devouring all my priceless pearls of wisdom to give meaning to your otherwise pointless lives.

But I still haven’t forgiven Nigel the Editor. I mean, I’ll think about it. But some wrongs can’t be made right, you know? Some fences can’t be mended. I might seem invincible on the outside, but deep down… well, I’m pretty much invincible—but still, no one threatens me. No one tells me what to do, and no one, I mean no one, out-negotiates Dr Disrespect.

CHAPTER 6 THE DOC’S FIRST SPONSOR

Every big-time gamer remembers his first sponsor. Even gamers less big-time than me, and that’s all of them.

To get that first paycheck with your name on it, not because you’re flipping grease at a Burger-Rama or sitting in some shitty little cubicle with your clip-on tie, but because you’re a stone-cold killer on an 8K battlefield of mayhem.

Because you’re contributing something real and powerful and important to society—video game dominance.

That, my friend, is an awesome feeling. That is flying with the eagles through the storms and above the clouds and into the sun. That is the flavor of true success.

Of course, you look at punk-kid gamers these days, and they all got it easy. They’re nine years old, they’re eating their Mr. T cereal, they’re munching on Pop-Tarts and chewing on Bubble Tape, and then they decide—“What the hell, I’m gonna jump on some new streaming platform and play a little Fortnite and see if I can get a few followers, why not?”

And the next thing you know, they’re making six figures from some sports-energy drink based out of Shanghai.

But back when I got started in the nineties? Back before streaming wars and PS4s and 8K LCDs and 1080p’s and Chinese sports-energy drinks with five billion yuan to toss at little punks?

Shiiiit, you had to fight to survive. You had to earn your keep with blood and violence and cunning. You had to know what you were worth and how to get what you wanted. And if you didn’t?

Then you died.

Or maybe, I don’t know, you got a real job, which is almost worse.

But maybe you literally died!

I know, because it almost happened to me when I got my very first sponsor.

It was 1998. For the past few years, ever since I’d won my second Blockbuster Video Game Championship, I’d been taking accelerated, advanced prototype classes in high school during the week and traveling to tournaments on the weekend.