Look, I’m not writing this to feed my ego. Or to get free drinks, or have ladies throw themselves at me. I’m sure that will all happen, but it’s not why I am doing this. This is for my children. I want them to know me and what I accomplished. What I was a part of. A big, significant, important part of.

I don’t know exactly who my children are but, mathematically, I figure I must have a bunch of them. This way, I don’t have to track them down individually and talk to them. It’s a big time-saver for me. Great idea, right? As you read this you’ll see that I’m kind of an ideas guy.

So, to start off you should know that before the important events in this book took place I had some trouble with the authorities from time to time. I would not exactly say I was a thief, more of an unorthodox entrepreneur, an outside-the-box thinker, if you will. But a lot of other people did describe me that way. It was a little hurtful.

But, before I get too far ahead of myself I suppose I should backtrack a little to the beginning. My beginning. I was born. I was named Dirk because my father had to sell his favorite one to pay the midwife when I was born, and he wanted to remember it. He liked reminding me of what they had to give up for me just to pop out. They were pleasant like that. "It was a difficult birth," my mother would often say. "And it ain't gotten any easier since!" They would both say that last part together, if they could. It never got old. Seriously. Never. Still funny. It's hard to say who I got my own awesome sense of humor from because they were both so darned hilarious. Whew.

At some point my dad left so my mom had to finish raising me and my siblings on her own. It didn’t bother me. And if it did, I am completely over it. It’s not a big deal. The important, relevant, part is that I had a friend. Not just that I had a friend, but who he was.

Thilos. He was an orphan who was being raised by a crippled friend of his family who actually turned out to be a good guy. One of the best. See, not all cripples are awful. Anyway, not your normal, unhappy, sad orphan story. Kind of sweet, really.

Anyway, we met as kids, running around the streets, playing, having fun, and maybe causing a little bit of trouble. He taught me to fight and also how to read. Neither very well, mind you, we both needed other, better, teachers later on. But I might never have learned how to read if my new friend hadn't convinced me how cool it would be. I'm not sure he was right about that, it's never gotten me any girls, but it has been extremely helpful.

The really important and relevant part is that we were still friends when the events in this book began, which is why he looked me up that day when he was in big trouble. By the way, this is not supposed to be some fancy foreshadowing – like we are enemies now - it is just me trying to manage what to say and when to say it in terms of the present and the future. Screw you for judging me. I’m just a guy, trying to tell an amazing story, while jerks judge me for every single fricking thing I do.