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The details of my life are much like the details of everyone else's lives, but as Chris was most adamant to get a biography of my life, I shall try not to bore you with too much rambling.
I was born in 1922 to a young Slovakian couple. My mother was a lady of the night, finding lonely men on cold evenings, and pleasing them to whatever their needs may be. My father...was also a lady of the night, finding lonely men (with odd tastes) on cold evenings, and pleasing them to whatever their needs may be (I shall save you from further detail on this point... I was not so lucky to be spared from it). When times were tough, I was sold in 1929 to the Polish Czar for 2 cans of beans and a mule. I never saw my real parents again since that day; my mother dressed up in the finest dress she could afford, my father -- also dressed up in the finest dress he could afford. I will never forget the advice they gave, the last thing ever spoken between us. They said, "Son... snow goons are bad news." Those are words I still live by today.
Life in the Czar's castle was like most other childhood lives. Waking up at dawn to feed the giraffes, serving tea and snacks to the many ambassadors that came to our door. I ran away when I was 16, when my adopted father wanted me to go away to finishing school, and become the man that he was that day. I told him I didn't want to have three testicles, and finishing school was not for me. So I took everything that I owned and my one testicle, and set foot on the road.
I was picked up in Russia, where some traveling soldiers introduced me to the army life. I trained hard with them, finding comfort in my new found family. My first mission sent us into Germany, where Hitler had recently stolen our word twenty (I remember the day when we were all confused at saying "I remember back in dickity-two."). Our unit had made eleven successful missions into Germany, and I was awarded the order of the golden mongoose for my service.
After the war, I had become dissatisfied with life in Russia. A cold war was erupting between our two nations, and I had grown more fond of the capitalist way of life (plus, American women were hotter). I turned double agent, feeding information to the CIA, until the seventies when I was discovered. I fled Mother Russia, and came to America. While there, I underwent a series of controversial experiments that changed my image... and, as a surprising side effect, changed my apparent age as well. Now looking fifty years younger, it was decided that I would be well placed as an undercover agent in a front that was known to most of the world as "Cumberland Valley High School".
It was a sea of corruption and lies, a cesspool of deceit. Many undercover agents were working there, from various agencies. I was part of the Bureau of Weights and Measures, and successfully stopped the major invasion of the metric system [agents were tipped off when our football field suspiciously grew to 1.0936 times its former size (from 100 yards to 100 meters, for you non-scientific people)].
While at CV, I met many people. Chad Barger, who became one of my best friends: until I found out he was the head of the Canadian Mafia. Kim Eshbach, who I knew from the beginning was evil, since she was the only nice girl in that school (she had an alter-ego that was just too farfetched to believe). She was code named the black widow: luring lonely government officials into dark alleys, and killing them with a block of cheese to the head. Then there was Elizabeth Montgomery, who had killed more of our Zimbabwe Midget agents than anyone else in the underground. Then there was Denise Irving, whose calling card was a dead agent, killed by having his prostate ripped out of his body (but not through the poop shoot... it was pulled out from his mouth). Needless to say, it was a disturbing site to see. I have nightmares about seeing Kyle Swanger's dead body on the ground, blood everywhere, with his prostate lying next to him, looking... prostate shaped.
I did have allies in that school. Christopher Anderson was part of the SSS (the Scottish Secret Service). He was sent there to try and uncover a plot to manufacture a doomsday weapon that was cleverly disguised as some bagpipes. We did manage to acquire the weapon, but not before it was used to turn Montana into a smoking crater (covered up by our government, we claimed Montana was still there... although, ask yourself this... have you ever met anyone from Montana? I didn't think so).
But the most diabolical pair in that school, the ones that posed the biggest threat, the ones that almost killed me on four occasions... I am, of course, talking about Josh Decker and Angie Sneeringer. These were the names everyone else called them at that school, but their underground code names were the Devil and Mrs. Pepperpot. Angie Sneeringer (the Devil) and Josh Decker (Mrs. Pepperpot) controlled everyone... the jocks, the nerds, the punks, the freaks, the motorheads, the dorks, the geeks, the preps, the gays, the goobers, the Mafia, the aliens, the international exchange students (both Maktal AND Ashtouche), everyone. Angie was the brains of the operation, and Josh was -- no, wait, Angie was the beauty too. And the brawn. Come to think of it, I never figured out Josh's role in the organization. Perhaps he was just a figurehead, made to draw attention away from the Devil. Or maybe he was a fuck buddy. I don't know. But those two ran that school. They were involved in countless capers (say that five times fast), and broke about every law in the book (including the one on dressing up like Annie and singing "Tomorrow! Tomorrow!". Bad, bad bad Josh.). I never found out about them until after I had sex with Angie. Or was it after I had sex with Josh? I can't remember. Anyway, after I had sex with one of them, I found documents connecting them to the metric invasion. Luckily for me, they did not know who I was at that time. If they did, I would be dead today. I worked secretly against them, making plans for them, then messing them up after blame could not be put on me. I did finally put an end to the Devil's reign, using a bomb I planted that was made out of a Mountain Dew bottle, some rubber bands, and Uranium. But I made sure to have the bomb go off after I had sex with her -- twice. :)
April Richardson became my love obsession at that "school", but I told her it could never work between us. I remember telling her, while she was crying her heart out, that "April, my love.. my sweet... we can never be together. Your three nipples and my one testicle can never mix. Our children would be scared for life." She left to go into the navy (to get away from me, I imagine), and I never saw her again. I miss her so much sometimes. On cold nights, I buy copies of "Playboy", and draw a third nipple on the pictures. It brings me little comfort, but that is all I have left.
My cover would have been blown if I had stayed there longer after graduation, so a new assignment was given to me. I was sent to Slippery Rock University, where people would know me as Steve Krajeski, an aspiring physicist. What they did not know was that I was trying to blow apart an international smuggling ring that was importing illegal alien body parts into the country (no, not alien as in foreign... alien as in big white heads, black eyes, no mouths).
While at Slippery Rock, I was invited down to Morgantown, West Virginia, by one of my old friends from high school, Chris Bryant. The parties were great down there, and the people were real nice... Jed, Anita, Emily, Crystal, Dan, to name a few. It was a shame when I found out they were pod people bred from radioactive grapefruit seeds that survived by consuming the human appendix. I grew suspicious of Chris as well, when I told him all this, and he told me "That's ridiculous Steve! That story is completely unbelievable and untrue. By the way... your appendix looks delicious today." It was a shame when I had to kill him, and the rest of the pod people, although it had to be done. You see, pod people are abnormally strong and fast, and they would have taken over the world; but there is one way to kill them. You see, pod people cannot stand absurdity, and their heads will blow up whenever they see something that doesn't make any sense (I used a tape of "Teletubbies"). I wonder if the officials would ever find out why that apartment had "Teletubbies" on the TV, and a strange purple paste covering all the walls.
After the smuggling ring was broken up (and having gotten a commendation for the pod people incident), I decided to settle down in Pittsburgh, PA. With my B.S. in Physics, I went on to Graduate school at Carnegie Mellon University, where I shall hopefully get a Doctorate in Experimental Medium Energy Particle Physics (now say THAT five times fast). The government has requested my services again, but I think I shall have to decline. After moving in with Mrs. Pepperpot, he said he didn't want me to risk my life anymore. He said he'd worry about me too much.
Although... what he doesn't know, won't hurt him. ;)