I was born in the middle of a firestorm, in which the moon was breaking apart and raining down its fiery wrath on the peoples of earth. It was my conception that created the initial shockwave so powerful that it cracked the moon.

The doctor raised me up, and presented me to the gods in an attempt to appease them. The doctor was smitten for his attempt at sacrificing such a perfect being. My infant body fell to the ground, the resulting impact creating a massive electromagnetic storm that created a shield made out of the same energies that radiated awesome from my body.

I immediately stood up on my own two legs and shouted at the moon. "Stop your ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ you filthy piece of worthless rock!" The moon, so terrified by my insults shuttered, breaking apart even more. I knew I had just made the situation worse.

I grabbed the phone. There was only one thing i could do. I called the old spice guy. In a flash he appeared with a stick of old spice deodorant. I applied it quickly immediately aging 26 years. Manly man hair sprouted all over my body and I took one look at that moon. I pointed with my man finger and rocketed into the sky. The force of my liftoff created a vacuum sucking all the moon rocks into the sky with me.

Upon landing on the broken remains of the moon I ripped off my shirt. The sheer power of my perfect body fused the moon back together, and the day was saved.

That is the story of my birth.