I threw back my head and laughed long and hard. “Are you kidding me?” I said. “You may have tricked the Doc once—a total ridiculous miracle, by the way—but you won’t get him twice. Your stupid start-up won’t amount to jack. Especially with a dumb-ass name like Oogle.”

“Well,” Larry said, “we have been thinking of changing it to Google.”

“Come on!” I shouted. “That’s even worse!”

“Great talk, Doc,” Larry said. “So if that’s everything, we’ll just be on our way…”

Slowly they started edging away. In a flash, the serrated blade of my knife was inches from Larry’s throat.

“I have one more condition,” I whispered menacingly. “And it’s nonnegotiable.”

They stood there, trembling.

“I want that ham sandwich we talked about earlier today.”

“That… that was actually a week ago,” Larry whimpered. “You’ve been out for a while.”

“Whatever,” I said. “I am so goddamn hungry, it’s crazy. Must have something to do with destroying your lab and breaking Paul’s nose with my bare hands while maintaining a superhuman metabolism.”

His hands quivering, Larry pulled out his wallet and gave me a twenty-dollar bill. For exactly 1.2 milliseconds I thought about giving him a firm handshake—but I decided he wasn’t worthy and would possibly straight-up poop his pants if I touched him.

So instead, I got myself a delicious ham sandwich for lunch.

Of course, like I predicted, their stupid video game controller was a total flop. Never even manufactured a working prototype. It was simply impossible for them to mimic my skill, my timing, or my reflexes with their advanced artificial-intelligence processors. Technology just can’t handle the unique excellence that is Dr Disrespect.

A few years later Larry and Sergey did end up doing something else, something pathetic like search engine optimization, nothing cool like video games. Apparently my .015 share of the company would’ve netted me something like, I don’t know, $72 million or something?

But you know what? It was totally worth it. Never again would I forget just how much I was worth. Never again would I let someone push me around in a negotiation. Never again would I lose sight of my one true goal of absolute world domination.

And best of all, that ham sandwich really hit the fucking spot. If I close my eyes and concentrate, I can still taste it.

I. Seriously, no fucking idea what dimension this is anymore. Let’s call it Dimension Δ, just because mood: Greek demigod.

CHAPTER 7 THE SECOND TIME I DROVE A LAMBORGHINI (AND HOW YOU CAN DRIVE ONE TOO)

Why does it always have to be “the first time I did this, the first time I did that”?

If I want to write in gripping, powerful detail about the second time I drove a Lambo, that’s what I’m gonna do, and you’re gonna like it. Got that, Nigel the Editor?