Let me tell you my secret.
In the 1960’s, there was an international, top-secret project involving the breeding and development of superior human beings genetically designed to have the looks, skills and abilities necessary to rule the world.
I am a product of this project.
You don't know about the project because , obviously, you were never a part of it.
The laboratory site was invaded by a fleet of marauding aliens before work on me could be completed.
Deficient in hair follicles, a sense of rhythm and mathematical skills, but otherwise perfect in every way, I was able to escape.
I have since roamed the world searching for others who may have survived that horrible invasion – that I may banish the solitude of my genius.
But my enemies are never far away and I must escape them.
For protection - aside from my intellect, good looks and various skin care products - I come armed only with 36 pairs of shoes to match my various disguises.
In my wanderings, I have had to pretend to be a chef, a movie star in Japan, a teen-age dork, a model, a philosopher , an art critic and, most unfortunately, a vegetable salad.
At one point – oh the horror, the sheet horror – I even had to pretend to be a singer.
But I am weary of being a fugitive; tired of the games I have had to devise to amuse myself.
Tonight, in the cave that is my hiding place, I strip off the latex of my fat suit - my latest , most disgusting disguise - and stare into the mirror.
I see my real self - ripped, lean with a six pack abdomen with which glass could be cut.
I think of all that could be.
I say to myself….