The Story of My Life: Part 1.0

... war was beginning ...

The doctors were frantically rushing around, engaged in various medical activities. I assure you, these activities were unbelievably medical. A child was being born, but not just any child; it was a white, middle-class child. There could be no room for error, and complications were out of the question. The Surgeon-Generalissimo was present to observe the operation. He was an imposing and intimidating man, sporting a dictator-like mustache and commanding a gaze that would turn Medusa into stone. "Someone get me a drink... make sure it's hard!" he bellowed, equating medical professionals to errand-peoples, because he was important, and an event was about to happen that would alter the course of this very universe, and several others as well.

I was about to be born.

My mother, now in the painful throes of laborious labor, began going through her pre-planned breathing patterns and so-forth overseen by a team of trained medical doctors and professionals, all trained by Dr. Hugo Dragonov (Yes, the Dr. Dragonov) himself for the specific task of ensuring that my entry into this dimension would be absolutely perfect. Religious figures from many different faiths stood in the room, praying to their various gods for well, godspeed. There was also an atheist among them who didn't pray, but asserted aloud that "There is no God, but I hope this goes okay." Armed guards protected the room, as protesters were everywhere. Trained snipers stood atop the roof to instantly gun down any potential troublemaker who dare to interrupt my birth.

My father and old brother just stood off to the side, saying little. "My little brother is going to be so much cooler and funnier than me." my brother remarked prophetically.

Suddenly, a fist smashed through the stomach wall of my mom and I yelled "Prepare ye selves!" then I finished my escape by doing a flying dragon kick to smash out into the world. I was naked, but I was born with a black belt around my waist. No one knew how it got there, but it was a miracle of medicine and this event was documented, if anyone wants to confirm it. I grabbed my umbilical cord and bit it in half with my teeth. The chunk that I chewed off I spat onto the floor, and it was immediately devoured by a nearby golden retriever. As soon I was born, I uttered my first words, which were "Where is my cake!? Incompetence!" and the doctors begged for forgiveness, which I granted them. The birthday cake was brought into the room, and a stripper burst out of the cake and she sang "Happy Birthday" like Marilyn Monroe.

Then, still naked and covered in birth fluids, I dove into the cake and began playing in it. I didn't eat any of it, because it was white cake, which I despise with a burning vengeance, so I opted to ruin it for everyone else. Just then, a protester burst into the room, pointed at me and yelled "Evil baby! Evil baby!" and I yelled "Who let this clown in here? Someone shoot him!" and a Catholic Priest threw a ninja star at the protester's crotch, and castrated him, which shut him up fairly quickly.

Just then, there was a complication. The doctors noticed that I had a number of extra body parts: a third eye on my forehead, two thumbs on my left hand, two penises, and six testicles. One thing was for sure: I had more balls than any of them would ever have. Fortunately, the doctors were able to remove the thumb and relocate the third eye to the back of my head, but my parents insisted that I get to keep my extra penis and testicles. Against the wisdom of the elders, who spoke against multiple penises in the ancient teachings, the doctors agreed with my parents, and I've had to wear adult-size underwear ever since.

Just then, Haley's Comet flew over in the skies and lightning struck in the distance. Polar bears roared in the distance, the bodies of many holy men were resurrected as brain-hungry zombies, and gymnasts did back handsprings. Finally, before I left the hospital, I received my birth certificate, which read: