It was a sunny August day in the year of the gazelle, 1978. Charlene, a kindly woman, swelled with the imminent birth of her final two sons. She lounged in her favorite chair, gazing outside her favorite window, noting that her favorite stomach was acting quite violently towards her. After being rushed to the hospital, she discovered that the final two sons were about to be added to her collection (which had, up until then, consisted of two normal sons and one female son). Thus, on that blustery afternoon in August, 1978, the final additions to the Sonderfan household were created, IB423.089 and IB423.089a. When the lab tests returned and the doctors had discovered that they were human babies, their names were changed to something more humanesque. Derek, the eldest of the two, weighed in at a measly 6 lb. 2 oz. He realized almost immediately he would probably have to start growing soon or else he would never be picked for the kickball team in elementary school. After rigorous training and stretching exercises (that consisted of sleeping 20 hours of the day and drooling), Derek was fully maturing into a healthy toddler. By the age of five, he had already mastered walking, falling down, bartending, fine Italian cuisine (the violent expunging of), and life-threatening trips to the emergency room, of which he made no less than three. But his resilience and surprisingly strong stomach would ultimately result in many awe-inspiring feats that would later become the trademark of Derek's social life, such as his impervious tolerance of roller coasters and his famed eating of a Ford Pinto. And thus our story begins.
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Derek would like to say growing up was simple and he had everything handed to him on a silver plate, so he will. Growing up was simple and he had everything handed to him on a silver plate. However, this could not be further from the truth.
At the tender age of somewhere before ten, his family was packing for their annual holiday to Poughkeepsie, a tradition Derek certainly could have done without - but the Sonderfans were Dutch, and you know what they say about the Dutch… Little did they realize that there was evil lurking in Poughkeepsie (more evil than usual). They stopped along the way at a rest stop where Derek immediately burrowed into a ditch on the side of the road - he was a peculiar lad, admittedly. This turned out to be a blessing in disguise when, unannounced, a Greek phalanx stormed the rest stop in an anachronistic blunder that historians described as "The Big Greek Huh?" Millions were slaughtered, which was a feat considering there were only a few hundred customers at the rest stop - but the Greek's thirst for blood went unabated until they destroyed every rest stop in the contiguous 48 states and later drowned trying to march to the remote islands for more needless mayhem.
By the time Derek had escaped from his cocoon of safety, nothing remained of his family except a few bones and some credit cards. For the following weeks, Derek hitchhiked and trekked his way to Poughkeepsie anyway, because he wasn't going to let something trivial like the death of everyone dear to him ruin his pointless vacation and the carrying on of completely fictitious Dutch stereotypes. He had managed to convince at least two hotels and one barmaid that he was his father, Peter, and was even able to use his senior citizens discount - he was a crafty 4 year-old, that Derek. His smooth talking and ingenuity enabled him to make it all the way to Poughkeepsie, and almost all the way back. Before he made it home, however, his life changed forever.
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Charlene and Peter, Derek's loving yet opportunistic parents, could smell success in this young lad, hopefully blossoming him into what would later be described as a 'neophyte star' or at least a 'cash machine'. After all, Derek's first word, 'bus', was delivered on national television for an advertisement for busses. The rise to stardom was unceremoniously fast and nearly swallowed young Derek.
At first, it was simple television commercials for household products like diapers, matches, double-barrel shotguns and Tang. Derek's face became synonymous with product placement, and quite often Derek himself would actually be placed on camera to just be a generic shill for products (even if the products were nowhere to be seen). This of course let to a meteoric rise in fame, and catapulted him into his first starring feature, the sitcom "Little Billy Tomkins: Private Eye". The premise was a bit hokey - Derek played a seven-year old robot infused with artificial unintelligence who would constantly foul up the investigative efforts of Little Billy Tomkins, a 46 year old crime-investigator with a penchant for algorithms and whiskey. The series lasted only 6 episodes, but was enough of a vehicle for Derek to begin work on his first motion picture: "Splat". Originally titled "Onomatopoeia The Movie", this movie about the use of English vocabulary went on to be the first documentary to win the Best Actor Academy Award, which Derek couldn't accept because he was diligently trying to complete his spelling homework (with 'onomatopoeia' curiously being one of his assigned words).
With fame of course came the temptations of the rebel lifestyle. Derek would frequently be found in strip clubs, not necessarily because he enjoyed the women (he was, after all, a good half-dozen years away from puberty), but because it was one place the adoring public wouldn't look for him. But the money kept rolling in, with such side-projects as "The Esoderek Variety Hour" and "The Esoderek Variety Hour and a Half" both creating quite a buzz in the late-night talk-show circuit. And he was receiving residual income from his featured appearances in the critically acclaimed "Muffin Series" of movies. It seemed like nothing could bring Derek down.
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Growing up amongst the trials and rigors of suburban life is deceptively tough for the average person. Luckily for young Derek, he was not your average person, as could be deduced by the sheer number of arms he had, though after some early visits to the anti-prosthesis expert, this was remedied. Suburbia is famous, as is depicted in movies and television (subUrbia, Sex in the City), for its distinct lack of activities to do. In fact, a person living in Suburbia really only has one goal - the make a ton of money and live a happy life, hopefully married to a very attractive nymphomaniac. Several of Derek's daily activities in Suburbia consisted of routine hygiene and complaining of boredom, trends that would continue well into his college years (even the personal hygiene). But let's not jump ahead of ourselves.
He often had to rely more on his imagination than his material possessions for entertainment (as tied for last of five children, Derek found most of the budget for toys had been spent on his siblings. Henceforth, to this day, he still thinks if it can't be built out of Legos, it just plain can't be built). It was at this point in his life his overactive imagination started kicking into full gear, and he invented a new language. Often confused with the general babble of infants, it was often ignored (which turned out to be a large mistake because the theorems he devised at age one were well beyond his time and could have benefited society greatly had anyone had the aptitude to pay attention - instead they kept feeding him things that were strained) His brothers and sister spent the majority of their time being older than him, and it's a strict sibling rule to not associate with anyone younger than yourself until you are well into your forties. This isn't to say that Derek's family life was anything but wonderful. On the contrary, his family life was, as expected by the previous sentence, wonderful. It was his family, after all, who provided him with food, shelter, clothing, and keys to the handcuffs. It was also at this fragile time of expansion where he began solidifying friendships that would last forever, or until middle school when cliques would form and the majority of young teenagers would realize that Derek was, in fact, pretty uncool.
However, long before the rigors of higher education, something came unexpectedly at Derek like a train rushing to meet a chimney for a dart competition.
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Derek's life had already been traumatic by this point, and he was metaphorically lost. In fact, he was probably physically lost as well because life had been throwing him curveballs and smacking him in the head, affecting his ability to grasp spatial concepts. Derek was scared and he was ready to give it all up - after all, life was not his friend. He found a patch of leaves that was due to be sucked up by one of those leaf-suckers, and he laid in it, fully prepared to be sucked to death.
At the very last second, or about two weeks before that happened, a small family of baboons found Derek, who was cold, shivering, and smelled like dead tree. They took solace on the aspiring something-or-other, and brought him back to their home, where he could at least be warm and watch decent cable TV. Their names were Lucky, Belinda and the young infant Socrates.
Derek seemed to acclimate himself very well to the primate way of life, mastering such arts as climbing trees, flinging feces, eating lice, and making comedic movies much much funnier. Of course, this sort of family life would undoubtedly cause Derek to miss out on many of the joys of a more traditional suburban lifestyle: of reading the comics in the paper, of cheating on his taxes, of jury duty, of having his bicycle stolen by an 8-year-old girl who thought playing the 'cute' card would vindicate her of any legal ramifications (ultimately an incorrect assumption). But Lucky and Belinda were fantastic to Derek. They tried their best to teach Derek not only the primate way of life, but the human ways as well, although their attempts at table manners left a lot to be desired.
There was reason to believe that Derek would always be totally accepted in the monkey community - as was evident by the fact that the other monkeys seemed to really like Derek's fashion sense (Derek was responsible for monkeys globally to begin wearing horrible outfits on television). This trend would continue well into college, actually, except in college nobody liked his outfits, they just wanted a pair of bacon-and-egg pants. His peers showed acceptance of his antics by laughing in a very generic way and making sudden, unexpected head movements with no provocation. One could argue that this is standard monkey behavior, but Derek knew better - he knew he was "in".
But eventually, after a year, he knew it was time to move on. Derek would never forget how Belinda and Lucky were implemental in his evolution into a man, as leaving the ancestral tree for loftier branches opened the next door in his life. Derek ran headlong into that door, because it wasn't opened fully enough. Stupid monkeys. He rubbed his forehead and moved onward a little more cautiously.
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By this point, Derek's life had undeniably taken a turn for the worse. He was utterly alone, possessing the same health as a pheasant with rickets, and he was not even old enough to get himself into see a PG-13 movie, if he'd ever even had that desire - (after all, what was the last good PG-13 movie?) It was actually on his birthday when that all turned around.
While sitting at a playground for the deceased - as he liked to call the cemeteries he would frequent in an attempt to rekindle old relationships - a hooded stranger came up to Derek, offering his hand in genuine friendship. He went to shake the kind man's hand, and for that he received a bitch slap that caught him unawares. "Boy, never shake a stranger's hand. Mmm, you've got much to learn." The man took off his hood and it was traditionally friendly weather-person Al Roker. "Come with me."
Derek obediently followed this beacon of good fortune. Another bitch slap. "Never blindly follow a stranger. Geez, this is gonna be a long month."
Over the next seven years, Al Roker mentored a young and malnourished Derek to follow in his (Roker's) footsteps, right down to the ever-fluctuating weight, marital problems, seemingly manic/depressive mood, and penchant for unusual prime-time specials that seemed to transcend standard genre. Derek's immediately love and appreciation for meteorology was, of course, absolutely nonexistent, which taught Derek at an early age the methods of acting. Of course, we're jumping completely ahead of ourselves here.
Al was a stern but just father, using his own parental guidance book Don't Make Me Stop This Car as his commandments, so to speak. Perhaps Al was a bit too stern with Derek, whose traumatic early years had left indelible scars in his life, making him the pinnacle of fragility. After all, Al kept Derek in the dark about things that would later surprise Derek to no ends: religion, the US military, and Marylou Retton of 80's gymnastics fame.
There was one thing Al's fatherhood figure would help Derek with later in life, and this would ultimately propel him to much greater heights than he'd already reached.
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Derek always admitted that he'd had a pretty simple life up to this point and he could have simply coasted along the way things were going and have been fine. However, decadence comes in many subtle forms. In Derek's case, this understated form of ruin was crack cocaine.
Derek traditionally has never been one for moderation, as is evidenced by his later insistence on driving to work in either a Lear jet or molecular transportation device. As such, Derek bypassed many traditional starting points and delved right into the smack. Of course, at first it was only on occasion, such as immediately before (and after, and quite often during) a formal press conference or after a successful breach of contract law defense. But things soon spiraled out of control. Nary would a few hours pass when Derek wouldn't need a fix, often supplied by either his main contact at work or his own father, whose biography would be interesting in and of itself had Derek not later had it burned for what he considered 'religious reasons'.
His family and friends, of course, were not blind to the warning signs, such as the "Do Not Enter: Drug Binge" signs he would strew about his house. They were powerless to fight him, however, as his resolve to continue his downfall into the abysm of illegal narcotics was not only too resolute, but rather anti-climactic as well. Because just as things looked to be past the point of no return, help came in a most unexpected source.
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They say one's past sculpts their future. It was only fitting, then, that Derek would try to escape his already harried past by giving over completely to his primate roots. And his primate roots was named Rhubarb.
Rhubarb, a 6-year-old rhesus monkey, was not particularly attractive, even for a monkey. Derek didn't care - he didn't discriminate based on looks. Rhubarb was at least something new and it made Derek forget what had already happened in his life. Of course, Derek still had a boyish youth to him and he was yearning for a place to find companionship. He wasn't blind to the fact that there were certainly ethical complications in dating a member of a different species. As such, he drew several boundaries before anything even began: no copulation and no running around naked and grunting. He did have an image to uphold, however superfluous that might be in the untamed wild. However, Derek and Rhubarb's socially questionable love was something Derek cherished unquestionably. She was everything Derek desired in a female: independent, playful, trusting, and without the ability to nag him to learn woodworking. Rhubarb managed to provide possibly the only certain s
tability in Derek's life, and he would come to depend upon in the tough times.
The tough times, of course, ended on the second day of their relationship when, while on a walk through the jungle to scavenge for breakfast, Rhubarb was tragically shot in the back of the head by a heartless big game hunter and was taken from Derek's life permanently. Okay, it was just a paintball gun, but Derek just couldn't deal with the blue spot on the back of Rhubarb's head so he bolted the first opportunity he had. But Rhubarb's nurturing and loving persona definitely laid the groundwork for the stunning decision Derek made next.
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How Derek ended up at the Bixby Five-Ring Extrava-Gallant Traveling Circus is still argued by people today who, for the sake of argument, are in no way related to Derek but just really like to argue. While Derek's father has gone on record several times making it clear that he in no way induced Derek into joining a circus or any traveling band of entertainers or minstrels, reports to the contrary were flying around the gossip circles. There are tells, however, that contradict this. For instance, Derek's first character name in the BFREGTC (as it was often spoken aloud, not knowing it was an acronym) was Parents Blow, the Human Leafblower. His second stint as an axe-thrower's target saw him frequently wear a shirt that said "Dad" with a large bulls-eye on it. Draw your own conclusions.
Herman Bixby was initially only interested in Derek as enormously cheap labor, as Derek would display a tremendous work ethic despite inhuman conditions and treatment. Nobody really ever knew that beneath that determination and unthinking diligence lurked a performer just waiting to burst onto the scene, which he did as his third occupation within the circus. Derek became the world's youngest Human Cannonball. But at the Bixby Five-Ring Extrava-Gallant Traveling Circus, things were always one step ahead of the competition. As the Human Cannonbal with the BFREGTCl, Derek would be launched over 50 feet where another cannonball would stop him, mid-flight, by hitting him in the head (adhering to whichever Newtonian principle involved having your momentum stopped by a heavy lead projectile). In fact, it was the first time Derek's almost unrealistically thick skull saved his life, but it wouldn't be the last.
Bixby eventually moved Derek onto the Freak Show only minimally for health reasons, but more because it seemed a natural fit for Derek, whose life had already been a whirlwind of strange twists and turns. At the Freak Show, Derek played various roles such as the Bearded Women (where his acting skills were tested on a near daily basis), the Incredibly Elastic Man (where his inelasticity was tested, always unsuccessfully) and also as the Human Clay Pigeon, which was an insanely controversial routine that was stopped immediately after seven-hundred and thirteen shows. Finally, Derek was called upon to be the Head Clown at the Bixby Circus, mainly because he was threatened to walk out if he had to endure any further treatment that was legally defined as attempts on his life.
It was on his very first night as Head Clown when something very interesting indeed happened, and one might say it changed his life forever.
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Because of the prior year of Derek's life, Derek had become rather adept at fending for himself. His resourcefulness was not only his greatest trait, but often saved him from perilous situations and awkward silences while eating breakfast. And it was this same resourcefulness that led him upon the discovery of a lifetime.
While eating breakfast one November morning in an unabashed silence, Derek was struck a realization - there was something missing in his life, and without that something in place, his life as he knew it was meaningless. He complacently finished his Lucky Charms, but after that, he made a mad dash to his tool shed (which was a generous present given to him anonymously after the tragedy the year before) where he began a regiment of daily snipping, crimping, soldering, shearing, bending, and drilling things. He needed to create the greatest invention of all time (in his estimation, at any rate). It wasn't easy, given that he had had no formal science training, and what's worse, he was about as dexterous as a flagpole. But Derek was undeterred - he had a thought in his mind, and on rare instances when that occurred, he wanted to keep the ball rolling (metaphorically - he actually did invent the ball but was told at the patent office that he'd been beaten by thousands of years).
His familial figures began to notice that things weren't quite right with Derek. He had stopped paying attention to his ongoing pursuit of education, he had all but given up on a social life, and he would go entire weeks with only having "Real Genius" playing on his DVD player. It was unhealthy to say the least. Derek's father never really intervened, though; it was possibly the first time in his life that Derek displayed any sort of ambition, a trend that would continue for the rest of his life. While there was occasional parental concern and authorities were periodically notified just to 'keep an eye out for some wacky shenanigans', Derek was left to his own resources for months.
At long last, Derek emerged from his cocoon of scientific exploration, carrying in his hands what he easily considered to be the best invention ever conceived, never mind ever constructed, and it was done with only the aid of two rolls of duct tape. Before even demonstrating his invention, he rushed to the nearest patent office (which was conveniently located inside of the Starbucks down the street). All had to do then was wait.
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It was Derek's 9th birthday, and he looked at his birthday cake and its nine candles, wax dripping onto his ice cream cake, which was in turn dripping down on the cat. He closed his eyes and inexplicably wished his entire town would be obliterated in a horrific battle of a hitherto unnoticed land war. He opened his eyes and his hometown was gone - he didn't even get to blow out the candles.
The war had been waging for years, and it had been silently creeping towards Derek's neck of the woods. However, it never really impacted him until he had wished for it instead of going with his first instinct and wishing for a football. Hindsight is always 20/20, it's been said. Derek said it after his entire life had been reduced to a pile of cinderblocks and smoldering ash. And Froot Loops - a few boxes of that remained.
For the following weeks, Derek would stumble along the outskirts of his neighborhood, looking for any survivors in what was ostensibly the strangest case of earth-scorching firebomb aftermath he'd ever witnessed at that point. There were none to be found. Before him lay a vast wasteland of utter despair - and he didn't even have the presence of mind to set up any disc golf baskets. Although that part of his life wouldn't actually come into play for at least another decade.
Derek spent many months trying to rebuild his life and keep things into perspective: he was alive, he was learning independence, and most importantly he had a veritably inexhaustible supply of Twinkies in the foodmarts along the way. However, he knew he wouldn't be able to continue this way forever. There was growing up to do, there was maturing to do, there were girls to do. He would have gotten on this immediately if it were not for one thing: he hadn't hit puberty. And his unfortunate complexion. And his "European" teeth. And the general lack of females who hadn't been reduced to piles of carbon. And just timing in general. Despite the fact that, after months of solitude, pockets of civilization began forming and things had begun sprouting back to almost fairly normal, things were looking downright abysmal for Derek.
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Derek had always had an acute desire to learn about selected things: astronomy, writing, lethal combinations of household ingredients, snake charming, clematises, the Italian chiaroscurist painter Caravaggio, sod and duck hunting (sod hunting is surprisingly challenging.) But of these, astronomy and writing were pivotal influences on his early educational life. He distinctly remembers a time in fourth grade when he was taking some type of astronomy class and he got to connect a series of dots-known by astronomers as "stars"-to form and name his very own constellations. It was moments of catharsis like this that propelled Derek's future educational endeavors to such heights as majoring in drama in college and not having a clue why. But again, we're moving too fast.
Elementary school as a whole was filled with seemingly countless opportunities for Derek to thrive, both academically and socially. For instance, it became almost immediately evident that Derek's grasp of mathematical concepts was extraordinary, and he would be foolish to pursue anything but employment the numerical field later in his life. But, always the pinnacle of stupidity, Derek abandoned the subject at which he excelled and decided to write pointless short stories and poetry instead.
Derek's writing began taking the form of short little rhyming poetry and very silly stories about theoretical impossibilities of nature. For instance, in one of his pieces from the sixth grade, Derek wrote: "Batman appeared. He looked around. Then he disappeared." As you could tell by comparing this piece of literary genius with, say, any of his recent plays, he really hasn't matured all that much as a writer. But I suggest you make the comparisons for yourself. Middle School offered various new challenges to Derek, where he learned the value of watercolor painting, the challenge of indoor floor hockey, and that, despite the fact he would always be placed into the advanced English classes, he would never get an A in any of them until Junior year in high school, and that was given by a teacher who, one year from retirement, cared more about his new home in North Carolina than his gradebook (note the 8 commas in the last sentence, now nine).
Derek noted that his knowledge and mastery of arithmetic was consistently above average, and as such he completely ignored it and continued creating stories, clay-animation videos, and badly-performed improvisational skits with people who weren't particularly good at improvisation (himself included, naturally). Middle School also allowed Derek the opportunity to shine athletically in such sports as stickball and lacrosse, two sports that, in retrospect, he can't remember ANY girls playing but he's sure they had to be doing something during gym class. In fact, growing up, Derek rarely knew WHAT girls were doing.
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Derek's early aptitude, attitude and verisimilitude made it a natural fit that he would enroll in Spy School, a completely bogus institution for, as the ad stated, 'people who have money'. Derek registered and, after four classes that consisted of how to apply a cummerbund, Derek dropped out and decided things would work out better if he went into the field himself. Field work, he deduced, means it's in a field, which is more spy-like than at a desk. Plus, the tux looked great next to the corn.
Derek needed a code name that would distinguish him from every other cut-rate hackneyed spy out there, so he could be the most notable cut-rate hackneyed spy. He looked from outside his fireplace and saw the ash shovel. Right then, a realization hit him: "Why am I in the fireplace?" And with that, Agent Log Poker crawled out of the chimney, put on his cummerbund, and headed for the life of the secret agent.
It wasn't easy at first, what with him not having a scientific mastermind to supply him with gizmos or, in fact, much talent in anything. He could write rhyming poetry with a modicum of success and he could tell the future, but really nothing that would help the US Government. He did have two things working in his favor, however: he didn't have any particular care for his own personal safety and he was exceedingly cheap. The US Government immediately assigned him to complete the assignment known as Mission Inflatable Panda.
He was flown to Japan where he was to reside in a large inflatable panda, mainly being used as a decoy while the American troops were to gather top-secret information from tiny vaults hidden in various cages in the zoo. Operation Inflatable Panda was going great until another panda, nearly a third the size of Derek's inflatable counterpart, came up and clearly saw through the ruse, poking a hole in his potential playmate. Derek knew he was in trouble, and, while his costume deflated, he quickly applied enough black and white make-up to blend in with his surroundings. Unfortunately, the zebras took notice…
Long story short, Agent Log Poker managed to survive amidst the hubbub, and not only did America successfully obtain the necessary documents (schematics for TiVo operations), Derek had dates lined up for every night that week. The President of the United States honored Derek with a commemorative Badge of Questionable Intent and the Turquoise Sash of Indifference. He wore it like a Green Sash of Indifference and nobody noticed the difference. Over the following year, Derek went undercover in the successful Operation Tomahawk Blender, made headlines in the Mountie's Marbles Mission, and nearly got an actual commendation for his work in the ultimately ironic Operation Soviet Hypnosis and Marmalade Fiasco, which not only nearly cost him his life, but also made him rethink his love for marmalade. Throughout these adventures, Derek realized maybe it was time to hang up him cummerbund and resume a life more ordinary. After all, there were things he needed to do before he got too old.
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But he never did get the chance to find out. In his mailbox one day, he found an envelope addressed to his name and signed by Uncle Sam himself, or rather his personal assistant Dolores. That's right, the newly implemented draft had managed to clasp its icy fingers around the availability of Derek, thus ending his hopes of an early freedom. It wasn't particularly that Derek didn't want to proudly represent his country by traversing the rugged expanses and getting medals he didn't understand, he just wished he could have done it without endangering his fantastic haircut. Alas, it was not meant to be, as the hair vanished within the first week of training at the hands of Milton Barber, the army's barber (Jaime Nudegirl was replaced as the head barber the year before Derek was drafted because the disappointment he generally caused during the shaving sessions often resulted in riots).
Derek was soon trained and, as the exemplar of an efficient student, was promoted immediately to positions with significantly less chance of him being tortured and beaten. He was promoted to the entertainment of the troops, a position that thrilled him. It was here that the name Esoderek was born when, after one stellar performance, a drunken sergeant was clearly trying to say "Bravo" but missed by several syllables. Derek's routines were insanely varied, based on his previous experiences in various aspects of the performing arts. One day, he would juggle as many as three different objects that ranged in shape from tennis ball to racquet ball. He would also sometimes recreate famous naval battles in a large bathtub, often using actual seacraft. His performances of King Lear would bring down the house if anyone had stayed awake long enough to see the third act. All in all, he was quite successful, and had he not lost his torso in a freak shrapnel accident while in the canteen line, he would have continued it until his tenure in the army was officially completed.
Fortunately, due largely in part to advancements in technology, within hours Derek had a replacement torso, but unfortunately his stint in the military was nearing its end. But not for reasons you might think...
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Derek was downright surprised to have ended up in Moscow, staring at the self-appointed czar at the time (especially considering Derek knew full well the czarist regime of the former USSR had long since disbanded). He was similarly surprised when he was introduced to the czar's daughter, who went simply by the name Myurga Olga Petrokovich Modelteva. Derek called her Tippy. When Tippy was led into the room wearing ceremonial Russian bridal garments on their first meeting, Derek suddenly felt underdressed in his kilt and mukluks, so he arranged for a change of clothes to a matching bridal gown - it was the best the Russian regime could do in such rushed circumstances. What followed could only be described as the most heavily-guarded wedding ceremony in the history of absurdly-rushed arranged marriages. Before he could blink, Derek was no longer Derek Sonderfan the swingin' bachelor; he was Derek Sonderfan-Modelteva, the swingin' married dude. And his life went on a roller coaster, stopping only once to throw up.
Because of Derek's previous experiences in certain 'questionable' fields of employment, he had actual work to accomplish in Russia. As a consequence, Derek and Tippy's honeymoon took place almost entirely in an egg crate outside of the Asumption Cathedral in the Kremlin while surrounding by lit candles and the faint sounds of an autoharp. Tippy, not typically one for sentimentality and overt romance, treasured every minute of the honeymoon, including the public display of her virginity, which continued throughout the honeymoon due to scheduling conflicts. Derek was on a mission. He had ready the supplies to give his contact at midnight of some night that was never clearly delineated, because these types of details never seem to be. Derek was to recognize his contact because of the enormous dinosaur float made entirely of petunias that followed him everywhere - made the guy very easy to spot. His contact went by the name Cutsey-Wootsey Chihuahua Sleeves.
Unfortunately, the man he was slated to meet, (real name Boris "Eric" Chihuahua Sleeves) never showed up, and Derek was forced to figure out what to do with four hundred pounds of artificial turf and a mile and a half of electrical cord. Luckily, Tippy had a few suggestions, and that night they were preparing to do some interesting things with what Tippy affectionately called "The Electric Putting Green of Lust." She led him into the bedroom for an unforgettable night, and it was an unforgettable night indeed.
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To say Derek was down and out at this point is almost entirely correct; he was down and in the process of going out. His life had been chaotic up until this point, put simply, and he needed a stabilizing force - something that could pull him from the underbelly of society and to help the scars of his childhood heal, but not entirely (chicks dig scars). And then it happened.
The date was August 21, 1994, exactly 17 years after his birth, and Derek experienced his first actual encounter with a girl. Of course, this isn't entirely true. In kindergarten, he suavely put the moves on a girl named Jenn in the tire playground, culminating in the "kiss heard round the playground". The social ridicule he faced would ultimately scar Derek until he was in his late teens, and even then the ramifications were pretty severe. He truly believed that girls had cooties well into college, and still to this day, there are some lingering doubts on the subject. A psychiatrist would have a field day with topic alone if ever given the chance to have such a field day (and if he had a signed permission slip).
Also, there was Angie, a girl Derek met at a bowling alley. Their friendship was steadfast and unwavering. They spent most of their middle-school days together and even expressed their interest in each other in the very physical act of holding hands (once). Because of such limited displays of affection, Derek was notably surprised when, years later, Angie would refer to Derek as "her first boyfriend," as he was under the impression that boyfriends did more than just play tennis with their girlfriends.
And of course there was Becky, whose one-month stint with Derek crescendoed on their second date, where she informed him that she was fond of his friend Jason, so Derek set them up. As such, we will consider the following his first encounter with a girl.
Finally, on his birthday before his junior year in high school, Derek found love, blossoming in the treetops, resounding audibly amongst the sheaves of ever-after. Jaclyn was it. This was it. It seemed like his years of physiological torment and "demons" (which consisted almost entirely of real demons) were finally going to be shaken off and forgotten. This was it: bliss, euphoria, nirvana. Fourteen months later, they broke up.
Derek was distraught, since it was now high school and there were key moments of his life as great as nine years that this biography has completely overlooked. But less than a year later, Derek, seized with the power and suaveness of the romantic greats of his era (Bruce Campbell, mainly), managed to swindle another girl out of her single status. Susan was a friend of Derek's for many years, having met through a mutual group of friends. Derek dubiously became her friend and consoler after the demise of one of her previous relationships (having perfected the 'rebound method'-in fact, Derek would later go on to use this rebound method to solidify the rumors of his marriage with Marylou Retton of 80s gymnastics fame, but we are certainly jumping ahead of ourselves now.) But Susan was different from Jaclyn. This one was definitely right. They were able to establish an unbreakable bond of friendship, surely their romantic tie would rival the best. Their love was so strong and so steadfast that it lasted nearly five months before Derek broke up with her and headed into the grandiose hallways of Moving Past Girls University (stopping off at the front office because he was tardy and needed a hall pass).
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As has become standard fare in biographies, immediately following the good fortune of the invention, tragedy struck when the patent office realized the miraculous invention Derek had created was nothing more than a toaster with a pair of mittens taped to the side. Within days of the breakthrough being announced, the descendents of the inventor of the toaster, as well as several family members of the inventor of mittens (and even some guy who just claimed to really like tape) had filed copyright infringement lawsuits, and Derek looked to be in the proverbial 'bucket of yuck'.
Of course, the wily inventor was not about to go down without taking a few legal punches along the way. He hired critically acclaimed copyright attorney Buttons Overstock, Esq., to handle the legal proceedings, and to clear his name. Buttons had an unorthodox style of defense, which was displayed in early proceedings when he wouldn't show up for six straight depositions, only to show up at an entirely wrong hearing and proclaim that he objected to everything in the courtroom, including the bailiff's trousers. Derek had faith in Buttons, however, as the track record stood on its own: no cases lost to date. The slogan was emblazoned on the attorney's business cards, after all. It had to be true.
Derek failed to realize three things. 1) Buttons Overstock, Esq. had never lost a case because he had never taken a case and defended it in a court of law. 2) Buttons Overstock, Esq., was not technically an attorney - he was more a backup middle infielder for one of the local AAA affiliates. 3) Any money he had amassed in his lucrative life so far was legally considered no longer his. The news hit him hard, and the historic case of Sonderfan vs. Just About Everyone went on to be a landmark ruling in the field of copyright law, inasmuch as it took the jury only 12 seconds to deliberate, and that was including the time it took to compliment the bailiff's trousers.
Things were bleak. Penniless, jobless, and hopeless, Derek knew not where to turn. Could he turn to his friends? His family? His failed line of cosmetics? No - there was only one place that would accept him without judgments.
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All good things must come to an end, unfortunately. On the third night of the honeymoon, Tippy was preparing for a sexual endeavor called the Half Bucket Slip Shot, an extremely risky yet absolutely rewarding maneuver. While rigging up the pulley system, however, Tippy had the counterweights measured improperly and she tumbled down the two stories into the pneumatic grape masher. Worse than that, the counterweights themselves came cascading after, and soon Tippy was crushed under thousands of pounds of sod. She was already dead when Derek found her minutes later, having come back from affixing the bag of feathers and the robotic bull.
His grief lasted an inestimable time, but if one were to try, they'd come up with about a week, when he knew he was ready to move on. When he realized that he was more upset that he didn't actually perform the Half Bucket Slip Shot than that his wife had tragically died, he knew it was time to get on with his life.
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One thing all girls have in common, Derek noted, was an inimitable knack for quirky timing. While celebrating something of a romantic tryst one night in the quarry, Derek and his particular ladyfriend were redefining the term 'getting down and dirty'. Their new definition included the term '3rd degree coal burns'. Alas, while enjoying a brief moment of outdoor carnal fun, they were distracted by a strange orange fluid leaking from a tiny little spout in the ground. Derek, understandably thinking it was Tang, started to lap up the dense liquid at a rate of one lick, at which point his tongue evaporated and his uvula melted. This was an unusual substance indeed. Derek's partner quietly stood up and nonchalantly started the car as she'd become accustomed to doing when they had to rush Derek to the hospital for something or other. Derek bottled the liquid and figured that would get properly evaluated after his mouth and esophagus received proper medical care.
Two bandages and a congratulatory lollipop later, Derek strolled out of the hospital alone (something his woman would look scornfully upon when, after two weeks of waiting at the hospital, she realized he had left her in the waiting room - it would be a sign of things to come, unfortunately). Derek took the liquid to a chemist who analyzed it and, for the purposes of alacrity, pronounced on the spot that it was an undiscovered periodical element not entirely unlike Actinium except in nearly every aspect of its composition. In fact, it only shared a melting point. When asked by the chemist how he survived after licking something that, as a liquid, had to have been at least 2000° F, Derek shrugged and asked that the new element be named Esoidium in honor of its unlikely founder. The chemist said he had no pull over this, and Derek left contently, since he still was under enough heavy sedation that he wouldn't have noticed if the chemist was a bio-chem engineer. He was that out of it.
This entire ordeal changed Derek's life inestimably. In fact, the miraculous discovery was the direct, sole cause of what happened next.
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The importance of Derek's discovery was immediately known, as scientists, historians, politicians, and pundits alike all benefited from Derek's find. Around the world, the buzz was deafening, and this was a common side effect, but that soon died down when people realized how to properly use the discovery in the first place. The name Derek Snafornand became famous with any miraculous catch, which upset Derek because of how grossly his last name was butchered in the process. After a minor defamation of character lawsuit was dismissed in court, Derek simply changed his last name to Snafornand to ease the transition to superstardom.
Within weeks, he was already doing the talk-show circuit, the morning-show circuit, the Short Circuit (the third installment, starring Derek, was unfortunately straight-to-dumpster). Not a day went by when someone didn't publicly herald Derek for his revolutionary work, although there were just a few days that went by without Derek realizing what a lucky bastard he was, truth be told. And when his name came up as a potential recipient for the Nobel Peace Prize, not only was he flattered, but he was also downright confused. When they apologized, and meant to say he was amidst the potential recipients for the Nobel Prize, not only for the field of Chemistry, but also for the fields of Physiology and Medicine and, most surprisingly, the field of Literature, Derek humbly accepted the nomination. He of course didn't expect to win, having not really had any formal chemistry training, having never written a book, and especially not even knowing what physiology actually was. But he digressed, something at which he was exceptionally good.
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It seemed that nobody would take pity upon Derek at this point. His situation was not exactly stellar, and what was worse was that, as far as this biography is concerned, he's never once changed his pants. However, there are places the destitute can always turn, and Derek knew this well.
While at the brothel, though, Derek realized that maybe he wasn't exactly headed in the right direction. As he left the Rusty Lion that day, he was accosted by a small group of nuns (called a plaque of nuns) who were trying to turn him from the dark side and to a path of righteousness. The third from the left was kinda cute, so Derek shrugged and tagged along with them.
They took him into their convent, the Mary Mother Convent of Bucket. It was a tidy building adorned with only the finest linens, and even a little polyester, making Derek feel right at home. He particularly liked the open bar, something that, at his age, he shouldn't have appreciated and, upon further recollection, should not have had a place in a convent to begin with. Derek shrugged again - he had become increasingly good at shrugging.
Sisters Rebecca and Latreefa in particular took Derek under their wing, which came as a great relief to Derek, who liked being under nuns. They taught Derek Christian values, the fine fashion sense, and a greater sense of the whole. Why he set fire to the convent months later would still remain an enigma, since they were utterly hospitable in every imaginable aspect. It was with tears in his eyes that he left the convent only six months after being taken in, mainly because the ash kept getting in those same eyes. He waved goodbye and, because it just felt right, shrugged. He was on his way.
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The accordion. First conceived during the reign of the legendary "Yellow Emperor" Huang Ti around 3000 B.C. and later constructed by Vietnamese instrument maker Cyrillius Damian in the 18th century, this beautiful wonder of musical nature would make many a person cringe and want to break things. Derek was one of the illustrious few people who not only could see past the obnoxious sound and frightfully cumbersome playing style, and work that puppy like the portable pipe organ that it was meant to be. Derek had acquired an accordion shortly after his high school time period had ended, allowing him the freedom of continuing a newfound love for music while socially ostracizing himself further. But never did he ever think it would be the stepping stone to greatness.
Derek's lifelong distain of coffee had resulted in his general lack of awareness about open mic nights, which were of course excellent venues to showcase mediocre talent. As such, his first few stints at the Nightdale Abattoir Open Mic Night and the Newby Show at Pump's Bump House were met with poor reception. At some point, his artistically successful friend Bryan had introduced him to the wonders of the Coffee House gig specifically, pointing out that he could technically order hot chocolate. And thus, a star of stage and screen (except for the screen) was born.
Wielding his accordion, Derek would take to the stage like a battalion of French lieutenants: cautiously yet pompously. It was this braggadocio, actually, that was what caught the eye of famed talent agent Skip Mange. Skip was so impressed of Derek's accordion cover of Angel of Death (originally by Slayer) and his original song Christmas at the Armenian Prison that he offered him a spot on his vaudeville-style project, The Skip Mange Effect. Unfortunately, a more appropriate title might have suited the show more better, as it was cancelled immediately when the advertisers heard the name.
Undeterred, Skip made it his personal goal to make Derek's name famous. And not in any sort of 'fishy' way.
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Derek's stint in the nation's military was neither long nor storied. He simply survived and did whatever he could to help his country, which often came at the expense of his own health. This was startling, considering he never spent one day actually fighting or defending, but he injured himself more doing his unicycle act than entire platoons did in a year of intense battle. He actually lost a limb in the war trying to get a lunch tray off the pile at the canteen. Derek was not the most adept soldier in the military, which was what ultimately lead to his dishonorable discharge.
There had been much publicity and promotion for Derek's 1st Ever Pantsless Chimichanga Hootenanny. It would be the first time in American History that an event slated to boost military morale would eclipse, in terms of spending, the construction of a fleet of armored tanks. Derek had spent millions of dollars in preparation and props for this mind-blowing event, and troops as far away as Bulgaria had flown in just to see the festivities, neglecting their militaristic duties. This was going to be the event that changed warfare entertainment forever, if not the face of all entertainment together. The electricity was certainly
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Derek would like to say growing up was simple and he had everything handed to him on a silver plate, so he will. Growing up was simple and he had everything handed to him on a silver plate. However, this could not be further from the truth.
At the tender age of somewhere before ten, his family was packing for their annual holiday to Poughkeepsie, a tradition Derek certainly could have done without - but the Sonderfans were Dutch, and you know what they say about the Dutch… Little did they realize that there was evil lurking in Poughkeepsie (more evil than usual). They stopped along the way at a rest stop where Derek immediately burrowed into a ditch on the side of the road - he was a peculiar lad, admittedly. This turned out to be a blessing in disguise when, unannounced, a Greek phalanx stormed the rest stop in an anachronistic blunder that historians described as "The Big Greek Huh?" Millions were slaughtered, which was a feat considering there were only a few hundred customers at the rest stop - but the Greek's thirst for blood went unabated until they destroyed every rest stop in the contiguous 48 states and later drowned trying to march to the remote islands for more needless mayhem.
By the time Derek had escaped from his cocoon of safety, nothing remained of his family except a few bones and some credit cards. For the following weeks, Derek hitchhiked and trekked his way to Poughkeepsie anyway, because he wasn't going to let something trivial like the death of everyone dear to him ruin his pointless vacation and the carrying on of completely fictitious Dutch stereotypes. He had managed to convince at least two hotels and one barmaid that he was his father, Peter, and was even able to use his senior citizens discount - he was a crafty 4 year-old, that Derek. His smooth talking and ingenuity enabled him to make it all the way to Poughkeepsie, and almost all the way back. Before he made it home, however, his life changed forever.
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Charlene and Peter, Derek's loving yet opportunistic parents, could smell success in this young lad, hopefully blossoming him into what would later be described as a 'neophyte star' or at least a 'cash machine'. After all, Derek's first word, 'bus', was delivered on national television for an advertisement for busses. The rise to stardom was unceremoniously fast and nearly swallowed young Derek.
At first, it was simple television commercials for household products like diapers, matches, double-barrel shotguns and Tang. Derek's face became synonymous with product placement, and quite often Derek himself would actually be placed on camera to just be a generic shill for products (even if the products were nowhere to be seen). This of course let to a meteoric rise in fame, and catapulted him into his first starring feature, the sitcom "Little Billy Tomkins: Private Eye". The premise was a bit hokey - Derek played a seven-year old robot infused with artificial unintelligence who would constantly foul up the investigative efforts of Little Billy Tomkins, a 46 year old crime-investigator with a penchant for algorithms and whiskey. The series lasted only 6 episodes, but was enough of a vehicle for Derek to begin work on his first motion picture: "Splat". Originally titled "Onomatopoeia The Movie", this movie about the use of English vocabulary went on to be the first documentary to win the Best Actor Academy Award, which Derek couldn't accept because he was diligently trying to complete his spelling homework (with 'onomatopoeia' curiously being one of his assigned words).
With fame of course came the temptations of the rebel lifestyle. Derek would frequently be found in strip clubs, not necessarily because he enjoyed the women (he was, after all, a good half-dozen years away from puberty), but because it was one place the adoring public wouldn't look for him. But the money kept rolling in, with such side-projects as "The Esoderek Variety Hour" and "The Esoderek Variety Hour and a Half" both creating quite a buzz in the late-night talk-show circuit. And he was receiving residual income from his featured appearances in the critically acclaimed "Muffin Series" of movies. It seemed like nothing could bring Derek down.
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Growing up amongst the trials and rigors of suburban life is deceptively tough for the average person. Luckily for young Derek, he was not your average person, as could be deduced by the sheer number of arms he had, though after some early visits to the anti-prosthesis expert, this was remedied. Suburbia is famous, as is depicted in movies and television (subUrbia, Sex in the City), for its distinct lack of activities to do. In fact, a person living in Suburbia really only has one goal - the make a ton of money and live a happy life, hopefully married to a very attractive nymphomaniac. Several of Derek's daily activities in Suburbia consisted of routine hygiene and complaining of boredom, trends that would continue well into his college years (even the personal hygiene). But let's not jump ahead of ourselves.
He often had to rely more on his imagination than his material possessions for entertainment (as tied for last of five children, Derek found most of the budget for toys had been spent on his siblings. Henceforth, to this day, he still thinks if it can't be built out of Legos, it just plain can't be built). It was at this point in his life his overactive imagination started kicking into full gear, and he invented a new language. Often confused with the general babble of infants, it was often ignored (which turned out to be a large mistake because the theorems he devised at age one were well beyond his time and could have benefited society greatly had anyone had the aptitude to pay attention - instead they kept feeding him things that were strained) His brothers and sister spent the majority of their time being older than him, and it's a strict sibling rule to not associate with anyone younger than yourself until you are well into your forties. This isn't to say that Derek's family life was anything but wonderful. On the contrary, his family life was, as expected by the previous sentence, wonderful. It was his family, after all, who provided him with food, shelter, clothing, and keys to the handcuffs. It was also at this fragile time of expansion where he began solidifying friendships that would last forever, or until middle school when cliques would form and the majority of young teenagers would realize that Derek was, in fact, pretty uncool.
However, long before the rigors of higher education, something came unexpectedly at Derek like a train rushing to meet a chimney for a dart competition.
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Derek's life had already been traumatic by this point, and he was metaphorically lost. In fact, he was probably physically lost as well because life had been throwing him curveballs and smacking him in the head, affecting his ability to grasp spatial concepts. Derek was scared and he was ready to give it all up - after all, life was not his friend. He found a patch of leaves that was due to be sucked up by one of those leaf-suckers, and he laid in it, fully prepared to be sucked to death.
At the very last second, or about two weeks before that happened, a small family of baboons found Derek, who was cold, shivering, and smelled like dead tree. They took solace on the aspiring something-or-other, and brought him back to their home, where he could at least be warm and watch decent cable TV. Their names were Lucky, Belinda and the young infant Socrates.
Derek seemed to acclimate himself very well to the primate way of life, mastering such arts as climbing trees, flinging feces, eating lice, and making comedic movies much much funnier. Of course, this sort of family life would undoubtedly cause Derek to miss out on many of the joys of a more traditional suburban lifestyle: of reading the comics in the paper, of cheating on his taxes, of jury duty, of having his bicycle stolen by an 8-year-old girl who thought playing the 'cute' card would vindicate her of any legal ramifications (ultimately an incorrect assumption). But Lucky and Belinda were fantastic to Derek. They tried their best to teach Derek not only the primate way of life, but the human ways as well, although their attempts at table manners left a lot to be desired.
There was reason to believe that Derek would always be totally accepted in the monkey community - as was evident by the fact that the other monkeys seemed to really like Derek's fashion sense (Derek was responsible for monkeys globally to begin wearing horrible outfits on television). This trend would continue well into college, actually, except in college nobody liked his outfits, they just wanted a pair of bacon-and-egg pants. His peers showed acceptance of his antics by laughing in a very generic way and making sudden, unexpected head movements with no provocation. One could argue that this is standard monkey behavior, but Derek knew better - he knew he was "in".
But eventually, after a year, he knew it was time to move on. Derek would never forget how Belinda and Lucky were implemental in his evolution into a man, as leaving the ancestral tree for loftier branches opened the next door in his life. Derek ran headlong into that door, because it wasn't opened fully enough. Stupid monkeys. He rubbed his forehead and moved onward a little more cautiously.
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By this point, Derek's life had undeniably taken a turn for the worse. He was utterly alone, possessing the same health as a pheasant with rickets, and he was not even old enough to get himself into see a PG-13 movie, if he'd ever even had that desire - (after all, what was the last good PG-13 movie?) It was actually on his birthday when that all turned around.
While sitting at a playground for the deceased - as he liked to call the cemeteries he would frequent in an attempt to rekindle old relationships - a hooded stranger came up to Derek, offering his hand in genuine friendship. He went to shake the kind man's hand, and for that he received a bitch slap that caught him unawares. "Boy, never shake a stranger's hand. Mmm, you've got much to learn." The man took off his hood and it was traditionally friendly weather-person Al Roker. "Come with me."
Derek obediently followed this beacon of good fortune. Another bitch slap. "Never blindly follow a stranger. Geez, this is gonna be a long month."
Over the next seven years, Al Roker mentored a young and malnourished Derek to follow in his (Roker's) footsteps, right down to the ever-fluctuating weight, marital problems, seemingly manic/depressive mood, and penchant for unusual prime-time specials that seemed to transcend standard genre. Derek's immediately love and appreciation for meteorology was, of course, absolutely nonexistent, which taught Derek at an early age the methods of acting. Of course, we're jumping completely ahead of ourselves here.
Al was a stern but just father, using his own parental guidance book Don't Make Me Stop This Car as his commandments, so to speak. Perhaps Al was a bit too stern with Derek, whose traumatic early years had left indelible scars in his life, making him the pinnacle of fragility. After all, Al kept Derek in the dark about things that would later surprise Derek to no ends: religion, the US military, and Marylou Retton of 80's gymnastics fame.
There was one thing Al's fatherhood figure would help Derek with later in life, and this would ultimately propel him to much greater heights than he'd already reached.
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Derek always admitted that he'd had a pretty simple life up to this point and he could have simply coasted along the way things were going and have been fine. However, decadence comes in many subtle forms. In Derek's case, this understated form of ruin was crack cocaine.
Derek traditionally has never been one for moderation, as is evidenced by his later insistence on driving to work in either a Lear jet or molecular transportation device. As such, Derek bypassed many traditional starting points and delved right into the smack. Of course, at first it was only on occasion, such as immediately before (and after, and quite often during) a formal press conference or after a successful breach of contract law defense. But things soon spiraled out of control. Nary would a few hours pass when Derek wouldn't need a fix, often supplied by either his main contact at work or his own father, whose biography would be interesting in and of itself had Derek not later had it burned for what he considered 'religious reasons'.
His family and friends, of course, were not blind to the warning signs, such as the "Do Not Enter: Drug Binge" signs he would strew about his house. They were powerless to fight him, however, as his resolve to continue his downfall into the abysm of illegal narcotics was not only too resolute, but rather anti-climactic as well. Because just as things looked to be past the point of no return, help came in a most unexpected source.
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They say one's past sculpts their future. It was only fitting, then, that Derek would try to escape his already harried past by giving over completely to his primate roots. And his primate roots was named Rhubarb.
Rhubarb, a 6-year-old rhesus monkey, was not particularly attractive, even for a monkey. Derek didn't care - he didn't discriminate based on looks. Rhubarb was at least something new and it made Derek forget what had already happened in his life. Of course, Derek still had a boyish youth to him and he was yearning for a place to find companionship. He wasn't blind to the fact that there were certainly ethical complications in dating a member of a different species. As such, he drew several boundaries before anything even began: no copulation and no running around naked and grunting. He did have an image to uphold, however superfluous that might be in the untamed wild. However, Derek and Rhubarb's socially questionable love was something Derek cherished unquestionably. She was everything Derek desired in a female: independent, playful, trusting, and without the ability to nag him to learn woodworking. Rhubarb managed to provide possibly the only certain s
tability in Derek's life, and he would come to depend upon in the tough times.
The tough times, of course, ended on the second day of their relationship when, while on a walk through the jungle to scavenge for breakfast, Rhubarb was tragically shot in the back of the head by a heartless big game hunter and was taken from Derek's life permanently. Okay, it was just a paintball gun, but Derek just couldn't deal with the blue spot on the back of Rhubarb's head so he bolted the first opportunity he had. But Rhubarb's nurturing and loving persona definitely laid the groundwork for the stunning decision Derek made next.
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How Derek ended up at the Bixby Five-Ring Extrava-Gallant Traveling Circus is still argued by people today who, for the sake of argument, are in no way related to Derek but just really like to argue. While Derek's father has gone on record several times making it clear that he in no way induced Derek into joining a circus or any traveling band of entertainers or minstrels, reports to the contrary were flying around the gossip circles. There are tells, however, that contradict this. For instance, Derek's first character name in the BFREGTC (as it was often spoken aloud, not knowing it was an acronym) was Parents Blow, the Human Leafblower. His second stint as an axe-thrower's target saw him frequently wear a shirt that said "Dad" with a large bulls-eye on it. Draw your own conclusions.
Herman Bixby was initially only interested in Derek as enormously cheap labor, as Derek would display a tremendous work ethic despite inhuman conditions and treatment. Nobody really ever knew that beneath that determination and unthinking diligence lurked a performer just waiting to burst onto the scene, which he did as his third occupation within the circus. Derek became the world's youngest Human Cannonball. But at the Bixby Five-Ring Extrava-Gallant Traveling Circus, things were always one step ahead of the competition. As the Human Cannonbal with the BFREGTCl, Derek would be launched over 50 feet where another cannonball would stop him, mid-flight, by hitting him in the head (adhering to whichever Newtonian principle involved having your momentum stopped by a heavy lead projectile). In fact, it was the first time Derek's almost unrealistically thick skull saved his life, but it wouldn't be the last.
Bixby eventually moved Derek onto the Freak Show only minimally for health reasons, but more because it seemed a natural fit for Derek, whose life had already been a whirlwind of strange twists and turns. At the Freak Show, Derek played various roles such as the Bearded Women (where his acting skills were tested on a near daily basis), the Incredibly Elastic Man (where his inelasticity was tested, always unsuccessfully) and also as the Human Clay Pigeon, which was an insanely controversial routine that was stopped immediately after seven-hundred and thirteen shows. Finally, Derek was called upon to be the Head Clown at the Bixby Circus, mainly because he was threatened to walk out if he had to endure any further treatment that was legally defined as attempts on his life.
It was on his very first night as Head Clown when something very interesting indeed happened, and one might say it changed his life forever.
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Because of the prior year of Derek's life, Derek had become rather adept at fending for himself. His resourcefulness was not only his greatest trait, but often saved him from perilous situations and awkward silences while eating breakfast. And it was this same resourcefulness that led him upon the discovery of a lifetime.
While eating breakfast one November morning in an unabashed silence, Derek was struck a realization - there was something missing in his life, and without that something in place, his life as he knew it was meaningless. He complacently finished his Lucky Charms, but after that, he made a mad dash to his tool shed (which was a generous present given to him anonymously after the tragedy the year before) where he began a regiment of daily snipping, crimping, soldering, shearing, bending, and drilling things. He needed to create the greatest invention of all time (in his estimation, at any rate). It wasn't easy, given that he had had no formal science training, and what's worse, he was about as dexterous as a flagpole. But Derek was undeterred - he had a thought in his mind, and on rare instances when that occurred, he wanted to keep the ball rolling (metaphorically - he actually did invent the ball but was told at the patent office that he'd been beaten by thousands of years).
His familial figures began to notice that things weren't quite right with Derek. He had stopped paying attention to his ongoing pursuit of education, he had all but given up on a social life, and he would go entire weeks with only having "Real Genius" playing on his DVD player. It was unhealthy to say the least. Derek's father never really intervened, though; it was possibly the first time in his life that Derek displayed any sort of ambition, a trend that would continue for the rest of his life. While there was occasional parental concern and authorities were periodically notified just to 'keep an eye out for some wacky shenanigans', Derek was left to his own resources for months.
At long last, Derek emerged from his cocoon of scientific exploration, carrying in his hands what he easily considered to be the best invention ever conceived, never mind ever constructed, and it was done with only the aid of two rolls of duct tape. Before even demonstrating his invention, he rushed to the nearest patent office (which was conveniently located inside of the Starbucks down the street). All had to do then was wait.
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It was Derek's 9th birthday, and he looked at his birthday cake and its nine candles, wax dripping onto his ice cream cake, which was in turn dripping down on the cat. He closed his eyes and inexplicably wished his entire town would be obliterated in a horrific battle of a hitherto unnoticed land war. He opened his eyes and his hometown was gone - he didn't even get to blow out the candles.
The war had been waging for years, and it had been silently creeping towards Derek's neck of the woods. However, it never really impacted him until he had wished for it instead of going with his first instinct and wishing for a football. Hindsight is always 20/20, it's been said. Derek said it after his entire life had been reduced to a pile of cinderblocks and smoldering ash. And Froot Loops - a few boxes of that remained.
For the following weeks, Derek would stumble along the outskirts of his neighborhood, looking for any survivors in what was ostensibly the strangest case of earth-scorching firebomb aftermath he'd ever witnessed at that point. There were none to be found. Before him lay a vast wasteland of utter despair - and he didn't even have the presence of mind to set up any disc golf baskets. Although that part of his life wouldn't actually come into play for at least another decade.
Derek spent many months trying to rebuild his life and keep things into perspective: he was alive, he was learning independence, and most importantly he had a veritably inexhaustible supply of Twinkies in the foodmarts along the way. However, he knew he wouldn't be able to continue this way forever. There was growing up to do, there was maturing to do, there were girls to do. He would have gotten on this immediately if it were not for one thing: he hadn't hit puberty. And his unfortunate complexion. And his "European" teeth. And the general lack of females who hadn't been reduced to piles of carbon. And just timing in general. Despite the fact that, after months of solitude, pockets of civilization began forming and things had begun sprouting back to almost fairly normal, things were looking downright abysmal for Derek.
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Derek had always had an acute desire to learn about selected things: astronomy, writing, lethal combinations of household ingredients, snake charming, clematises, the Italian chiaroscurist painter Caravaggio, sod and duck hunting (sod hunting is surprisingly challenging.) But of these, astronomy and writing were pivotal influences on his early educational life. He distinctly remembers a time in fourth grade when he was taking some type of astronomy class and he got to connect a series of dots-known by astronomers as "stars"-to form and name his very own constellations. It was moments of catharsis like this that propelled Derek's future educational endeavors to such heights as majoring in drama in college and not having a clue why. But again, we're moving too fast.
Elementary school as a whole was filled with seemingly countless opportunities for Derek to thrive, both academically and socially. For instance, it became almost immediately evident that Derek's grasp of mathematical concepts was extraordinary, and he would be foolish to pursue anything but employment the numerical field later in his life. But, always the pinnacle of stupidity, Derek abandoned the subject at which he excelled and decided to write pointless short stories and poetry instead.
Derek's writing began taking the form of short little rhyming poetry and very silly stories about theoretical impossibilities of nature. For instance, in one of his pieces from the sixth grade, Derek wrote: "Batman appeared. He looked around. Then he disappeared." As you could tell by comparing this piece of literary genius with, say, any of his recent plays, he really hasn't matured all that much as a writer. But I suggest you make the comparisons for yourself. Middle School offered various new challenges to Derek, where he learned the value of watercolor painting, the challenge of indoor floor hockey, and that, despite the fact he would always be placed into the advanced English classes, he would never get an A in any of them until Junior year in high school, and that was given by a teacher who, one year from retirement, cared more about his new home in North Carolina than his gradebook (note the 8 commas in the last sentence, now nine).
Derek noted that his knowledge and mastery of arithmetic was consistently above average, and as such he completely ignored it and continued creating stories, clay-animation videos, and badly-performed improvisational skits with people who weren't particularly good at improvisation (himself included, naturally). Middle School also allowed Derek the opportunity to shine athletically in such sports as stickball and lacrosse, two sports that, in retrospect, he can't remember ANY girls playing but he's sure they had to be doing something during gym class. In fact, growing up, Derek rarely knew WHAT girls were doing.
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Derek's early aptitude, attitude and verisimilitude made it a natural fit that he would enroll in Spy School, a completely bogus institution for, as the ad stated, 'people who have money'. Derek registered and, after four classes that consisted of how to apply a cummerbund, Derek dropped out and decided things would work out better if he went into the field himself. Field work, he deduced, means it's in a field, which is more spy-like than at a desk. Plus, the tux looked great next to the corn.
Derek needed a code name that would distinguish him from every other cut-rate hackneyed spy out there, so he could be the most notable cut-rate hackneyed spy. He looked from outside his fireplace and saw the ash shovel. Right then, a realization hit him: "Why am I in the fireplace?" And with that, Agent Log Poker crawled out of the chimney, put on his cummerbund, and headed for the life of the secret agent.
It wasn't easy at first, what with him not having a scientific mastermind to supply him with gizmos or, in fact, much talent in anything. He could write rhyming poetry with a modicum of success and he could tell the future, but really nothing that would help the US Government. He did have two things working in his favor, however: he didn't have any particular care for his own personal safety and he was exceedingly cheap. The US Government immediately assigned him to complete the assignment known as Mission Inflatable Panda.
He was flown to Japan where he was to reside in a large inflatable panda, mainly being used as a decoy while the American troops were to gather top-secret information from tiny vaults hidden in various cages in the zoo. Operation Inflatable Panda was going great until another panda, nearly a third the size of Derek's inflatable counterpart, came up and clearly saw through the ruse, poking a hole in his potential playmate. Derek knew he was in trouble, and, while his costume deflated, he quickly applied enough black and white make-up to blend in with his surroundings. Unfortunately, the zebras took notice…
Long story short, Agent Log Poker managed to survive amidst the hubbub, and not only did America successfully obtain the necessary documents (schematics for TiVo operations), Derek had dates lined up for every night that week. The President of the United States honored Derek with a commemorative Badge of Questionable Intent and the Turquoise Sash of Indifference. He wore it like a Green Sash of Indifference and nobody noticed the difference. Over the following year, Derek went undercover in the successful Operation Tomahawk Blender, made headlines in the Mountie's Marbles Mission, and nearly got an actual commendation for his work in the ultimately ironic Operation Soviet Hypnosis and Marmalade Fiasco, which not only nearly cost him his life, but also made him rethink his love for marmalade. Throughout these adventures, Derek realized maybe it was time to hang up him cummerbund and resume a life more ordinary. After all, there were things he needed to do before he got too old.
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But he never did get the chance to find out. In his mailbox one day, he found an envelope addressed to his name and signed by Uncle Sam himself, or rather his personal assistant Dolores. That's right, the newly implemented draft had managed to clasp its icy fingers around the availability of Derek, thus ending his hopes of an early freedom. It wasn't particularly that Derek didn't want to proudly represent his country by traversing the rugged expanses and getting medals he didn't understand, he just wished he could have done it without endangering his fantastic haircut. Alas, it was not meant to be, as the hair vanished within the first week of training at the hands of Milton Barber, the army's barber (Jaime Nudegirl was replaced as the head barber the year before Derek was drafted because the disappointment he generally caused during the shaving sessions often resulted in riots).
Derek was soon trained and, as the exemplar of an efficient student, was promoted immediately to positions with significantly less chance of him being tortured and beaten. He was promoted to the entertainment of the troops, a position that thrilled him. It was here that the name Esoderek was born when, after one stellar performance, a drunken sergeant was clearly trying to say "Bravo" but missed by several syllables. Derek's routines were insanely varied, based on his previous experiences in various aspects of the performing arts. One day, he would juggle as many as three different objects that ranged in shape from tennis ball to racquet ball. He would also sometimes recreate famous naval battles in a large bathtub, often using actual seacraft. His performances of King Lear would bring down the house if anyone had stayed awake long enough to see the third act. All in all, he was quite successful, and had he not lost his torso in a freak shrapnel accident while in the canteen line, he would have continued it until his tenure in the army was officially completed.
Fortunately, due largely in part to advancements in technology, within hours Derek had a replacement torso, but unfortunately his stint in the military was nearing its end. But not for reasons you might think...
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Derek was downright surprised to have ended up in Moscow, staring at the self-appointed czar at the time (especially considering Derek knew full well the czarist regime of the former USSR had long since disbanded). He was similarly surprised when he was introduced to the czar's daughter, who went simply by the name Myurga Olga Petrokovich Modelteva. Derek called her Tippy. When Tippy was led into the room wearing ceremonial Russian bridal garments on their first meeting, Derek suddenly felt underdressed in his kilt and mukluks, so he arranged for a change of clothes to a matching bridal gown - it was the best the Russian regime could do in such rushed circumstances. What followed could only be described as the most heavily-guarded wedding ceremony in the history of absurdly-rushed arranged marriages. Before he could blink, Derek was no longer Derek Sonderfan the swingin' bachelor; he was Derek Sonderfan-Modelteva, the swingin' married dude. And his life went on a roller coaster, stopping only once to throw up.
Because of Derek's previous experiences in certain 'questionable' fields of employment, he had actual work to accomplish in Russia. As a consequence, Derek and Tippy's honeymoon took place almost entirely in an egg crate outside of the Asumption Cathedral in the Kremlin while surrounding by lit candles and the faint sounds of an autoharp. Tippy, not typically one for sentimentality and overt romance, treasured every minute of the honeymoon, including the public display of her virginity, which continued throughout the honeymoon due to scheduling conflicts. Derek was on a mission. He had ready the supplies to give his contact at midnight of some night that was never clearly delineated, because these types of details never seem to be. Derek was to recognize his contact because of the enormous dinosaur float made entirely of petunias that followed him everywhere - made the guy very easy to spot. His contact went by the name Cutsey-Wootsey Chihuahua Sleeves.
Unfortunately, the man he was slated to meet, (real name Boris "Eric" Chihuahua Sleeves) never showed up, and Derek was forced to figure out what to do with four hundred pounds of artificial turf and a mile and a half of electrical cord. Luckily, Tippy had a few suggestions, and that night they were preparing to do some interesting things with what Tippy affectionately called "The Electric Putting Green of Lust." She led him into the bedroom for an unforgettable night, and it was an unforgettable night indeed.
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To say Derek was down and out at this point is almost entirely correct; he was down and in the process of going out. His life had been chaotic up until this point, put simply, and he needed a stabilizing force - something that could pull him from the underbelly of society and to help the scars of his childhood heal, but not entirely (chicks dig scars). And then it happened.
The date was August 21, 1994, exactly 17 years after his birth, and Derek experienced his first actual encounter with a girl. Of course, this isn't entirely true. In kindergarten, he suavely put the moves on a girl named Jenn in the tire playground, culminating in the "kiss heard round the playground". The social ridicule he faced would ultimately scar Derek until he was in his late teens, and even then the ramifications were pretty severe. He truly believed that girls had cooties well into college, and still to this day, there are some lingering doubts on the subject. A psychiatrist would have a field day with topic alone if ever given the chance to have such a field day (and if he had a signed permission slip).
Also, there was Angie, a girl Derek met at a bowling alley. Their friendship was steadfast and unwavering. They spent most of their middle-school days together and even expressed their interest in each other in the very physical act of holding hands (once). Because of such limited displays of affection, Derek was notably surprised when, years later, Angie would refer to Derek as "her first boyfriend," as he was under the impression that boyfriends did more than just play tennis with their girlfriends.
And of course there was Becky, whose one-month stint with Derek crescendoed on their second date, where she informed him that she was fond of his friend Jason, so Derek set them up. As such, we will consider the following his first encounter with a girl.
Finally, on his birthday before his junior year in high school, Derek found love, blossoming in the treetops, resounding audibly amongst the sheaves of ever-after. Jaclyn was it. This was it. It seemed like his years of physiological torment and "demons" (which consisted almost entirely of real demons) were finally going to be shaken off and forgotten. This was it: bliss, euphoria, nirvana. Fourteen months later, they broke up.
Derek was distraught, since it was now high school and there were key moments of his life as great as nine years that this biography has completely overlooked. But less than a year later, Derek, seized with the power and suaveness of the romantic greats of his era (Bruce Campbell, mainly), managed to swindle another girl out of her single status. Susan was a friend of Derek's for many years, having met through a mutual group of friends. Derek dubiously became her friend and consoler after the demise of one of her previous relationships (having perfected the 'rebound method'-in fact, Derek would later go on to use this rebound method to solidify the rumors of his marriage with Marylou Retton of 80s gymnastics fame, but we are certainly jumping ahead of ourselves now.) But Susan was different from Jaclyn. This one was definitely right. They were able to establish an unbreakable bond of friendship, surely their romantic tie would rival the best. Their love was so strong and so steadfast that it lasted nearly five months before Derek broke up with her and headed into the grandiose hallways of Moving Past Girls University (stopping off at the front office because he was tardy and needed a hall pass).
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As has become standard fare in biographies, immediately following the good fortune of the invention, tragedy struck when the patent office realized the miraculous invention Derek had created was nothing more than a toaster with a pair of mittens taped to the side. Within days of the breakthrough being announced, the descendents of the inventor of the toaster, as well as several family members of the inventor of mittens (and even some guy who just claimed to really like tape) had filed copyright infringement lawsuits, and Derek looked to be in the proverbial 'bucket of yuck'.
Of course, the wily inventor was not about to go down without taking a few legal punches along the way. He hired critically acclaimed copyright attorney Buttons Overstock, Esq., to handle the legal proceedings, and to clear his name. Buttons had an unorthodox style of defense, which was displayed in early proceedings when he wouldn't show up for six straight depositions, only to show up at an entirely wrong hearing and proclaim that he objected to everything in the courtroom, including the bailiff's trousers. Derek had faith in Buttons, however, as the track record stood on its own: no cases lost to date. The slogan was emblazoned on the attorney's business cards, after all. It had to be true.
Derek failed to realize three things. 1) Buttons Overstock, Esq. had never lost a case because he had never taken a case and defended it in a court of law. 2) Buttons Overstock, Esq., was not technically an attorney - he was more a backup middle infielder for one of the local AAA affiliates. 3) Any money he had amassed in his lucrative life so far was legally considered no longer his. The news hit him hard, and the historic case of Sonderfan vs. Just About Everyone went on to be a landmark ruling in the field of copyright law, inasmuch as it took the jury only 12 seconds to deliberate, and that was including the time it took to compliment the bailiff's trousers.
Things were bleak. Penniless, jobless, and hopeless, Derek knew not where to turn. Could he turn to his friends? His family? His failed line of cosmetics? No - there was only one place that would accept him without judgments.
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All good things must come to an end, unfortunately. On the third night of the honeymoon, Tippy was preparing for a sexual endeavor called the Half Bucket Slip Shot, an extremely risky yet absolutely rewarding maneuver. While rigging up the pulley system, however, Tippy had the counterweights measured improperly and she tumbled down the two stories into the pneumatic grape masher. Worse than that, the counterweights themselves came cascading after, and soon Tippy was crushed under thousands of pounds of sod. She was already dead when Derek found her minutes later, having come back from affixing the bag of feathers and the robotic bull.
His grief lasted an inestimable time, but if one were to try, they'd come up with about a week, when he knew he was ready to move on. When he realized that he was more upset that he didn't actually perform the Half Bucket Slip Shot than that his wife had tragically died, he knew it was time to get on with his life.
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One thing all girls have in common, Derek noted, was an inimitable knack for quirky timing. While celebrating something of a romantic tryst one night in the quarry, Derek and his particular ladyfriend were redefining the term 'getting down and dirty'. Their new definition included the term '3rd degree coal burns'. Alas, while enjoying a brief moment of outdoor carnal fun, they were distracted by a strange orange fluid leaking from a tiny little spout in the ground. Derek, understandably thinking it was Tang, started to lap up the dense liquid at a rate of one lick, at which point his tongue evaporated and his uvula melted. This was an unusual substance indeed. Derek's partner quietly stood up and nonchalantly started the car as she'd become accustomed to doing when they had to rush Derek to the hospital for something or other. Derek bottled the liquid and figured that would get properly evaluated after his mouth and esophagus received proper medical care.
Two bandages and a congratulatory lollipop later, Derek strolled out of the hospital alone (something his woman would look scornfully upon when, after two weeks of waiting at the hospital, she realized he had left her in the waiting room - it would be a sign of things to come, unfortunately). Derek took the liquid to a chemist who analyzed it and, for the purposes of alacrity, pronounced on the spot that it was an undiscovered periodical element not entirely unlike Actinium except in nearly every aspect of its composition. In fact, it only shared a melting point. When asked by the chemist how he survived after licking something that, as a liquid, had to have been at least 2000° F, Derek shrugged and asked that the new element be named Esoidium in honor of its unlikely founder. The chemist said he had no pull over this, and Derek left contently, since he still was under enough heavy sedation that he wouldn't have noticed if the chemist was a bio-chem engineer. He was that out of it.
This entire ordeal changed Derek's life inestimably. In fact, the miraculous discovery was the direct, sole cause of what happened next.
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The importance of Derek's discovery was immediately known, as scientists, historians, politicians, and pundits alike all benefited from Derek's find. Around the world, the buzz was deafening, and this was a common side effect, but that soon died down when people realized how to properly use the discovery in the first place. The name Derek Snafornand became famous with any miraculous catch, which upset Derek because of how grossly his last name was butchered in the process. After a minor defamation of character lawsuit was dismissed in court, Derek simply changed his last name to Snafornand to ease the transition to superstardom.
Within weeks, he was already doing the talk-show circuit, the morning-show circuit, the Short Circuit (the third installment, starring Derek, was unfortunately straight-to-dumpster). Not a day went by when someone didn't publicly herald Derek for his revolutionary work, although there were just a few days that went by without Derek realizing what a lucky bastard he was, truth be told. And when his name came up as a potential recipient for the Nobel Peace Prize, not only was he flattered, but he was also downright confused. When they apologized, and meant to say he was amidst the potential recipients for the Nobel Prize, not only for the field of Chemistry, but also for the fields of Physiology and Medicine and, most surprisingly, the field of Literature, Derek humbly accepted the nomination. He of course didn't expect to win, having not really had any formal chemistry training, having never written a book, and especially not even knowing what physiology actually was. But he digressed, something at which he was exceptionally good.
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It seemed that nobody would take pity upon Derek at this point. His situation was not exactly stellar, and what was worse was that, as far as this biography is concerned, he's never once changed his pants. However, there are places the destitute can always turn, and Derek knew this well.
While at the brothel, though, Derek realized that maybe he wasn't exactly headed in the right direction. As he left the Rusty Lion that day, he was accosted by a small group of nuns (called a plaque of nuns) who were trying to turn him from the dark side and to a path of righteousness. The third from the left was kinda cute, so Derek shrugged and tagged along with them.
They took him into their convent, the Mary Mother Convent of Bucket. It was a tidy building adorned with only the finest linens, and even a little polyester, making Derek feel right at home. He particularly liked the open bar, something that, at his age, he shouldn't have appreciated and, upon further recollection, should not have had a place in a convent to begin with. Derek shrugged again - he had become increasingly good at shrugging.
Sisters Rebecca and Latreefa in particular took Derek under their wing, which came as a great relief to Derek, who liked being under nuns. They taught Derek Christian values, the fine fashion sense, and a greater sense of the whole. Why he set fire to the convent months later would still remain an enigma, since they were utterly hospitable in every imaginable aspect. It was with tears in his eyes that he left the convent only six months after being taken in, mainly because the ash kept getting in those same eyes. He waved goodbye and, because it just felt right, shrugged. He was on his way.
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The accordion. First conceived during the reign of the legendary "Yellow Emperor" Huang Ti around 3000 B.C. and later constructed by Vietnamese instrument maker Cyrillius Damian in the 18th century, this beautiful wonder of musical nature would make many a person cringe and want to break things. Derek was one of the illustrious few people who not only could see past the obnoxious sound and frightfully cumbersome playing style, and work that puppy like the portable pipe organ that it was meant to be. Derek had acquired an accordion shortly after his high school time period had ended, allowing him the freedom of continuing a newfound love for music while socially ostracizing himself further. But never did he ever think it would be the stepping stone to greatness.
Derek's lifelong distain of coffee had resulted in his general lack of awareness about open mic nights, which were of course excellent venues to showcase mediocre talent. As such, his first few stints at the Nightdale Abattoir Open Mic Night and the Newby Show at Pump's Bump House were met with poor reception. At some point, his artistically successful friend Bryan had introduced him to the wonders of the Coffee House gig specifically, pointing out that he could technically order hot chocolate. And thus, a star of stage and screen (except for the screen) was born.
Wielding his accordion, Derek would take to the stage like a battalion of French lieutenants: cautiously yet pompously. It was this braggadocio, actually, that was what caught the eye of famed talent agent Skip Mange. Skip was so impressed of Derek's accordion cover of Angel of Death (originally by Slayer) and his original song Christmas at the Armenian Prison that he offered him a spot on his vaudeville-style project, The Skip Mange Effect. Unfortunately, a more appropriate title might have suited the show more better, as it was cancelled immediately when the advertisers heard the name.
Undeterred, Skip made it his personal goal to make Derek's name famous. And not in any sort of 'fishy' way.
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Derek's stint in the nation's military was neither long nor storied. He simply survived and did whatever he could to help his country, which often came at the expense of his own health. This was startling, considering he never spent one day actually fighting or defending, but he injured himself more doing his unicycle act than entire platoons did in a year of intense battle. He actually lost a limb in the war trying to get a lunch tray off the pile at the canteen. Derek was not the most adept soldier in the military, which was what ultimately lead to his dishonorable discharge.
There had been much publicity and promotion for Derek's 1st Ever Pantsless Chimichanga Hootenanny. It would be the first time in American History that an event slated to boost military morale would eclipse, in terms of spending, the construction of a fleet of armored tanks. Derek had spent millions of dollars in preparation and props for this mind-blowing event, and troops as far away as Bulgaria had flown in just to see the festivities, neglecting their militaristic duties. This was going to be the event that changed warfare entertainment forever, if not the face of all entertainment together. The electricity was certainly