Sometimes, we make mistakes. Huge mistakes. Life changing mistakes. Things like writing this biography. Like helping these people. Like letting go.

I sat on a stone, people surrounding me, regarding me as a hero. But that didn't change my feelings. I lost them. I lost everything...

Now, you may not know these people surrounding me: dragons, moles, human amalgamations, a Xenomorph, a sentient stone, a drunk homeless ape… A bunch of tropes, really. I wish I'd never spoken to them, let alone assisted them, because I loathe them all. I'd gained these followers to lose them.

You're probably getting sick of me speaking. I know I am. You don't have to read this. You probably shouldn't. Stop yourself from suffering torture that seems to never end. But, if you really are willing to read my fucked up biography, you're in for a bit of a treat. I hope you're reading this ironically. Things… are about to not make any sense at all.

I guess I should start from the beginning. Here we go.

I was once a being of average background. Taught in the local school of my smallish town, had a few friends I loathed. A mother who was a drunken abuser, my father falling for a much younger woman... The usual sad stuff.

Life went on, I put up with the crap, and even earnt a few scars as the only memories I have of specific times. But when I was old enough to learn about the birds and the bees...they were truly the darkest days of my pitiful life.

That was when I discovered… her…

Of course, I'm not actually going to tell you her name because I'm a little bitch and don't want to spoil anything too early, but let's just say she was… special. Very special.

She could open up rifts in space time, enchant objects with powers beyond even my comprehension. She even pulled these creatures called dragons into our world sometimes and turned them into humans for shits and giggles.

She died, though. Nobody liked her anyway. She wasn't a lovable character. Everyone thought she was a bit too… special.

However, while no one ever associated me with her, there was one person who blamed me. Didn't know who he was or his relationship to her, didn't care. But he would come try and kill me from time to time. I liked him because he doesn't like me. That might have seemed weird, but… Don't complain, okay?

There was this one time, though. He got his hands on a weird device. I didn't recognise it, but it looked cursed by that woman.

He blew up. I was sad. He didn't die, though.

But at the same time, when he detonated that strange bomb, he tore a portal open. I saw murky colours on the other side; washed out greens, blues like a sparkling wave on the morning beachfront. I struggled to hold onto something to stop myself from being pulled into what seemed like another world, but the feeling of my pants loosening distracted me.

One of the most important things to me was my dignity, and as such my pants coming off would've brought upon me great shame, a fate even worse than death. So I noblely let go and zipped my pants back up, before realising I was holding onto nothing. I flew through that portal with a scream, and so did my only frenemy.

I tumbled like a leaf through the gale-force winds, felt my pants loosen again before they came flying off and wrapped themselves around the face of my frenemy. Too bad for him they hadn't been washed in weeks and I don't own toilet paper. But I had bigger things to worry about; my dignity was shattered and scattered swirling around the portal like I was.

Very shortly after, me and my frenemy were kicked out of the portal, shot into open skies where we were rapidly descending. Muffled screams could be heard from my frenemy as my pants still suffocated his mouth and nose. I really wanted my pants back...

Soon, though, I realised something very important. My pants didn't matter anymore. I had scaly legs! I was a dragon! And I felt my arms turning into scaly arms, and my head extending into a long snout and maw. I thought this was perfect. I could fly!

But then I also realised I've never had wings, so, of course, I wouldn't know how to fly. How was I meant to control these bloody things? It was like having a second pair of arms I couldn't move.

I had noticed as well that my frenemy, too, had turned into a dragon, though he was unaware of his transformation because of the cotton veil stuck to his now oddly shaped head. I needed to get to him, ask him how in the bloody hell I was supposed to fly, but my voice wouldn't reach him over the falling. Plus, he was too distracted at the moment. How did he not feel his pants fall away from him? How anyone could survive with their dignity intact after their pants fell off is beyond me.

But I noticed the ground getting rapidly closer to us, and realised that unless I mastered flight in the next few seconds, I would go kasplat.

Splat... We died... My bits went everywhere. How am I still talking whilst dead? This is complete bullshit. God, stop it, stop playing with my life and drag me up there already you giggling old fool!

You have just dragged yourself into the worst story ever conceived by mankind… Get out while you still can.

A story written by a potato lizard and a below-average-intelligence fox. Yes, of course it's going to be bad.