“Lunch!” I shouted. “A ham fucking sandwich! Right now! There’s a goddamn diner down the block! I haven’t eaten since breakfast! I’m starving to death here!”

“Sorry,” Sergey said.

“But,” Larry said, “we are prepared to offer you… a ten percent discount on our revolutionary new multisensory, variable-input joystick. The same one you’ll be advertising!”

“Uh,” I said.

“Fine!” he said. “Twelve percent!”

“Wow,” Sergey said. “You’re busting our balls here, Doc. Brutal negotiation.”

“Oh,” Larry added. “And that discount only applies to a single purchase. And it’s nontransferable.”

“So,” Sergey said. “We’ve got a deal?”

I stared at them with a gaze of raging fire. Cracked my iron knuckles. Clenched my perfectly square jaw. Felt the blood thundering through my veins. I was Dr Disrespect. I was worth so much more than this. But still—I was broke and hungry, and the last thing I wanted to do was admit defeat to my parents. Plus Sergey and Larry really did seem like nice guys…

Finally, I nodded.

“Yeah, we got a deal,” I growled. “But watch your tone with the Two-Time.”

“Excellent!” Sergey said. “Now, if you could just sign this contract—totally standard, just gives us all rights to use your image, likeness, name, and physiological essence throughout the universe in perpetuity—we’ll be all set. Here, I’ve got a pen.”

Sergey handed me the contract. Nothing major, just a couple hundred pages in Latin. Then the pen, which he handled very carefully. They watched eagerly as I signed my name. I started to put down the pen… when suddenly everything began going dark.

“Take the knife out of his hand,” I heard Larry say right before I blacked out completely. “We don’t want a damaged specimen…”

When I came to, I was strapped down tight to an exam table in some kind of secret lab. Blinding lights shined down on me, and electronic devices beeped and buzzed from the shadows. Electrodes were attached to my forehead, and all these wires and tubes ran in and out of my hands. It was like when Drago is hooked up to all that evil Soviet science crap in Rocky IV, except I’m a ton more shredded than Dolph Lundgren.

I strained against my bonds as hard as I could, but they wouldn’t give. Surprising, because I’m a ton stronger than Dolph Lundgren too.

“I’ve studied you well, Dr Disrespect,” a voice said from behind me. “All your moves, all your maneuvers and tricks—the video of your many tournaments is quite extensive—and those bonds have been engineered to resist even your superior strength.”

He stepped in front of me. Pale and skinny, with watery gray eyes and a long white lab coat, he looked even geekier than Larry and Sergey. But overall still like a pretty nice guy, except for the kidnapping and medical experiments.