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Back Violence. Speed. Momentum. Save as PDF
Chapters (22)
  1. Dedication
  2. AUTHOR’S NOTE I’LL NEVER WRITE THIS BOOK
  3. PREFACE YAYAYAYA!
  4. INTRODUCTION OKAY, I’LL WRITE THIS BOOK
  5. CHAPTER 1 MY MULTIDIMENSIONAL BIRTH
  6. CHAPTER 2 LET’S SET A RECORD, BABY!
  7. CHAPTER 3 THE TWO-TIME
  8. CHAPTER 4 GROOMING WITH THE DOCTOR
  9. CHAPTER 5 ALL RIGHT, I’M BACK
  10. CHAPTER 6 THE DOC’S FIRST SPONSOR
  11. CHAPTER 7 THE SECOND TIME I DROVE A LAMBORGHINI (AND HOW YOU CAN DRIVE ONE TOO)
  12. CHAPTER 8 THE SECRET BEHIND WHAT, EXACTLY, I’M A DOCTOR OF
  13. CHAPTER 9 THE KUMITE EXCEPT FOR VIDEO GAMES AND ALSO IT’S REAL
  14. CHAPTER 10 THE ATHLETICISM—WOW!
  15. CHAPTER 11 THE KUMITE EXCEPT FOR VIDEO GAMES AND ALSO IT’S REAL
  16. CHAPTER 12 THE RIGHT FLIP PHONE FOR YOU
  17. CHAPTER 13 HOLLYWOOD DOMINATION—AND DOC’S DISILLUSIONMENT
  18. CHAPTER 14 WHAT I’M THE DOCTOR OF
  19. CHAPTER 15 THE END???
  20. EPILOGUE FROM THE DESK OF NIGEL P. FARNSWORTH III
  21. AFTERWORD DID YOU REALLY THINK I’D GIVE THAT PUNK EDITOR THE LAST WORD IN MY BOOK???
  22. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

So it turns out that the second time I drove a Lamborghini Diablo happened thanks to my second professional sponsor. Yeah, the circle of life is a beautiful thing, people. Soon after I taught the nerd-punks at Oogle a lesson they probably forgot immediately, I was approached by Popeyes with another deal.

They offered me a lifetime all-you-can-eat supply of Popeyes fried chicken, and all I had to do was go on TV, bite into a drumstick, and say, “My name might be Dr Disrespect, but there’s one thing this Doctor does respect, and that’s Popeyes fried chicken. It makes the minimap in my mouth go craaaaazy!”

But since I’d learned my lesson, and the Two-Time doesn’t forget, I refused to do a thing for them unless they paid me a cool half million dollars and changed my line to “My name is Dr Disrespect, and I’ll eat this crapola because they’re paying me.”

Guess what? The morons went for it. All the suits kept babbling about how much they loved my “authenticity” and could I please remove my serrated hunting blade from their jugular, and they signed then and there. Again, that’s on them for not checking my secret ankle sheath.

So not only am I still able to eat as much Popeyes as I want to this day—and honestly, those sandwiches are like fried heaven—but I also got to replace my black-and-white Sanyo with a color Sanyo, to buy new curtains for my little shithole apartment, and to blow all the rest of my money on my very own brand-new completely blacked-out 1998 Lamborghini Diablo.

And if I’m being honest, the Lambo was so damn expensive I actually had to borrow an extra twenty bones from Razor Frank just to close the deal.

Now, look, I know what you’re thinking: “Doc, is it really wise financial planning to spend all your money on a high-performance gas-guzzling exotic sports car when you can barely afford to eat?”

And for once I’m actually happy for the interruption because:

  1. 1) If you were paying attention, you’d know I’d just earned a lifetime supply of delicious Popeyes chicken, so all I ate was fried chicken morning, noon, and night for every meal of the day until my veins were pumping pure gravy, and feathers were coming out my pores and my nose until I could barely breathe and I thought I was gonna die. So that was awesome.
  2. 2) You clearly—CLEARLY—have never driven a Lambo.