(Bonus Friday Post: Day 1 of Writing for NaNoWriMo. Just a taste of what’s to come for the rest of the month.)
Zach was born with a full grown beard and a subscription to Cosmopolitan magazine. The doctors said that if it hadn’t been for the magazine subscription, Zach’s mom would have died from carrying around too much awesome manliness. Zach had ordered the magazine in utero to save his mother’s life, because Zach was three fourths of the way through his doctorate in medical school and he knew of the danger he posed to his mother. Zach was a gentlemen even then.
The day Zach was born, the hospital had driven her in an ambulance out into the forest because they didn’t want to insult Zach by implying he’d need help being born. The assisting nurse was a lumberjack and performing the delivery was a grizzly bear. Zach was raised by the bears until he was three years old. When Zach left the bears he was the alpha male.
Zach’s early child hood was pretty normal. He played the bass guitar for Led Zepplin. He started a comic strip with Bill Watterson that ran in the local paper. He lead the Dallas Cowboys to a Super Bowl victory in 1994, and played half their super bowl winning season in 1995 before he was injured by a sudden case of puberty that hospitalized him for two months. The puberty lasted an hour because Zach was tired of it and didn’t want to wait any longer. He was caught off guard by how much more manly he would become during that hour, as were the rest of us. According to the equations of the world’s top physicists, Zach couldn’t have possibly gotten as manly as he did during puberty. Zach had to invent a new system of advanced physics to explain it. Zach was not injured when he went to the hospital, he was just stuck flexing all of his biceps and abdominals. It took the doctors two months to find out that this was just Zach’s natural state, so he better get used to it.
By this time, Zach was entering Kindergarten. His education wasn’t the usual, as it was constantly being interrupted with award ceremonies such as Zach winning the Oscar for best actor, the Pulitzer Prize for public service, the Emmy for both outstanding lead actress and best director, and a whole host of other awards. The one he was most proud of was the Nobel Peace Prize he won for Literature. The piece he wrote for that one was just a picture of his face stapled to a box of Fruit Roll-Ups.
Zach was promoted to the rank of High School senior his second week of Kindergarten, where he took the entire female high school population to Homecoming as his date. Zach picked them all up at their homes, greeted their fathers with a firm handshake, and promised that he’d be respectful of their daughters. He was. It was the most successful school dance ever.
When Zach turned 11, he enlisted in the Army Rangers and fought in the war in Uruguay. Haven’t heard of it? I’m not surprised. It was all very hush-hush. The war was looking to be a big mess, but Zach posted a billboard of himself doing pushups behind enemy lines. The insurgent forces all surrendered. Zach told the press to keep it quiet, as Uruguay needed some private time for self-reflection and healing.
I met Zach at the end of High School. At this point in his life he didn’t shake hands because it was rude to imply that the person he was meeting didn’t know who he was. Instead Zach looked me up and down and declared that we would be friends. We went through the ceremonial arm-wrestling, in which I lost seven matches in a row. I could have lost more, but Zach never did like to rub it in by requiring more matches than necessary.
The day I met Zach was the day that he’d have to face the greatest challenge of his life….
(I’m just joking. This isn’t my NaNoWriMo piece.)