I started out in quantum mechanics, where defining the unified theory of concert dynamics got me two Nobels, the cover of Time and a window seat at Spagos.

I was only three at the time.

I earned my first medical degree before I was five, and toured with Skid Row and Quiet Riot as their backup pharmacist. There’s a picture of me standing next to Vince Neil on my seventh birthday. That was the same day I invented the artificial appendix.

By ten I was totally into economics, and through my experiments with ticket prices for Alasdair Fraser, Indigo Girls and T.G. Sheppard, I was able to introduce an entirely new business model combining gross income with the ability to own more than one credit card. Not only did it snag me three more Nobels, but Elton John dedicated a shopping spree in my honor.

As with most young people, my teenage years were fraught with confusion and rebellion. The controversial Roadie Stem Cell Institute took up most of my time, as did my work refining Einstein’s theories on groupie intellectual capacities, which I extrapolated upon to include Big Sugar and Paul Westerberg. The former won me my sixth Nobel, while the latter got me a night in the Lincoln Bedroom at the Clinton White House. Chelsea still writes to me.

And now at the grand old age of 21, I find myself facing my biggest challenge. Having already conquered medicine, physics, economics and Usher routing mechanics, I have been called upon to use my massive intellect to solve the mystery that has perplexed all of the great minds that came before me. A challenge so great, so difficult, so extraordinarily complex, that it could very well consume my entire life, and become the focal point of my already incredible career. Yes, it is truly a challenge worthy of the smartest man in the world.

For you see, I’ve been hired by BMG to figure out how to make Napster profitable.

Hmmm… Maybe I should just quit while I’m ahead.