The details of my life are quite inconsequential. My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium, who was a Jehovah's Witness. He had low-grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen-year-old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. She was studying to be a Witness when they married. When my father was not going door to door, he would womanize, he would drink, and he would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy, the sort of general malaise that only the genius possesses and the insane lament. My childhood was typical, summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets and attend District Conventions. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds, pretty standard really, this was taught by the Witnesses as a way to prepare the young for the way the "world" would treat them. At the age of 12 I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen, a Zoroastrian (My father thought their teachings and the Witnesses went hand in hand.) named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum, it's breathtaking, I suggest you try it. At age 18 I went off to evil law school. I left with my "good thoughts," "good words," and "good deeds," to learn evil thoughts, evil words, and evil deeds.
I think Dr. Evil and myself have a lot in common.