User:Claymcc

I was born in a small Scandanavian fishing village, son of a tyrannical oysterman and his mousy wife. I was confined to a cardboard box for my first 18 years, fed only scraps of lard fetched for me by kindy Aunt Rosmary.

I made my escape on the day of my 18th birthday, accompanied by a magical toaster and the village's only copy of the Koran. After some time had passed, I set up a multinational firm in the suburbs of Des Moines and became fabulously wealthy.

Married to a woman who resembles Aunt Rosmary to a disconcerting degree, I have raised 15 children, several of whom wandered into the house when I wasn't looking.

None of this, of course, is true.