Mmmmmmmmkay, here we go...

At age six I was born in a quaint, rustic-style log cabin that I helped my father and four brothers build high up in the mystic mountains of Tibet. After my parents were killed by marauding Nazi-Ninjas I was taken in by a monastery of super-cool monks that totally knew karate. After training under the tutelage of Liam Neison and Tony Cha (who was blind at the time, that’s kind of important for later) the Nazi-Ninjas returned to my village to steal all our crops, or... something. So what I did, right, was kill like five hundred of those motherfuckers, then some big-ass orcs, then a berserker or two from the movie 300, before stepping up to their boss, Joseph Stalin! (did I mention they were communists? Yeah, Nazi-Ninjas who wanted an Orwellian rule over my small Tibetan village, that’s right...) So Stalin was all like “You think you can stop me? I’m Joseph Mothahfuckin Stalin!” And I was totally like “Oh yea? Well I’m the goddamned American Industrial Complex, BITCH!” Then I chopped off his head, and there was much rejoicing. Then later Tony Cha fell down and elevator shaft and died. There was also some stuff where, like, the dude I was training with as a child betrayed our monastery and become my mortal enemy, and this chick I loved was leaving for Japan or something... I dunno, it was late and I didn’t really feel like reading the subtitles, but yeah, that’s pretty much my life, except 10 times as baddasss, like if you gave Clint Eastwood a gun that fires flaming testicles every time he punches a dude in the face... that would be me...