...I was just an ordinary guy with a very bad back working for next to minimum wage at a small call centre in the basement of a discount supermarket. The only real "perks" of that job were a 2p discount on jelly donuts and a small black and white tv in the smoker's staff room.
I worked away, being shamefully subsidized by tax credits, feeling that I wasn't worth the snacks I used to consume at break time. My Bavarian belly bulged and bulged and my eyes deteriorated until I couldn't tell if the jeans I was trying on at the charity shop would fit me. And...
But the attendant was nice, they had a surplus of supplies that they didn't have space for or time to go through, so I was given a few unopened donations.
At first I was reluctant to accept, my neo-Lutheran upbringing had taught me to reject anything I didn't earn myself. I felt like I didn't deserve it, that I couldn't accept. But when the trousers I was wearing split in two, I couldn't really refuse without getting arrested.
So there I was, rummaging through box full of second hand goods, telling myself I'd pay back the charity shop when I got the chance. The stuff smelled of dead people, but I stuck my head in to savour the relative freshness because the landlord refused to fix the toilet because technically, if it could flush once every three hours on occasion it wasn't broken.
I silently promised I'd pay the charity shop back for their immense kindness, regretting that I wasn't worthy of other people's garbage when - all of a sudden - I stumbled upon it: a one hundred year old untitled manuscript which I like to call
I heard the name Nietzsche before, and my first thought was to burn the book. But then I thought, we British don't burn books, that's something that Germans like Nietzsche would do.
And besides, It wasn't really "mine" anyway,
I started making good use of the German they forced me to learn at school, but my lack of confidence had me put it away.
The next day, a pretty German girl moved in next door, and that was all the motivation I needed to learn the language. I couldn't afford a course yet, but I found an English German dictionary, and with sheer willpower (she's a very pretty girl), I picked up the book again.
Well, the second time I opened Fred Nietzsche's Guide to ÜberGothie I didn't look back. I found myself chanting the phrases, doing the exercises, and systematically improving the way I did things.
Within two months I lost 400 pounds of excess weight, earned my first million dollars, met the woman of my dreams, and grew a wallop of a mustache!
Friederich Nietzsche and I have been friends ever since. I've taught him a bit of English, and now we're working on an abridged translation of his greatest works, updated for the twenty-first century.
At first I was thinking of keeping this a secret, afraid that if people with better genetics and connections discovered it all my social advantages would disappear. But my knowledge of human nature tells me the majority are far too lazy to take advantage, and they'll be stuck in second gear all the way through their retirement.
No, this is for those guys who like me, deep down want to change things and need to change things. You know if a superman lies within, and only you know when you're ready to unleash him.
Your Friend,