This story is entirely fictitious. Any similarities between this story and the real-life Bob are entirely coincedence and actually kind of cool in a serendipitous way.

On August 25 in the year of our Lord 1988, God was chilling on His couch with a McHeaven shake and watching humanity bring itself to an end. And He got Bored.

"Hey J-Dawg, let's try to confuse people by making a cybernetic cyborg pimp that's bipolar. And we can like throw in one of those, like, hidden purposes that only become clear after they do something profound like taking a Renurt's seat."

"Alright, " agreed Jesus.

And so it was that Bob was born, real name Bob, but tricked into thinking his name was Kory Smathers. And on that day the heavens opened up and dumped eighteen inches of snow on the small Clarion-County-looking town, which was in fact actually Clarion County, on the 25th of August. Indeed it was fate that saved them because the Smathers had to recover their pool, thus preventing them from accidentally leaving Bob by himself at the age of 0 to wander into the pool and drown, which is what happened in an alternate universe.

But of course Satan, being Satan and evil and such, whose dominion extends over the Earth, couldn't just let God try these things out without interfering somehow. So naturally he went to scheming away with trickery, deceit, guile, and an elaborate plot involving sailors, green monkeys, and a couple of pandas.

Little did he know God already knew he was going to do this, and God had already made the necessary arrangements in His Infinite Wisdom, and in fact had made the arrangements for when Satan realized he was getting outsmarted and tried his next move. In fact, from here to eternity God had Satan outsmarted about infinity times.

Seven or eight years later Bob was sprinting down a court after an orange tinted air-filled sphere as if he were a rabbit and Ellen herself was after him. This death match of YMCA basketball was getting bloody since YMCA refs usually are those people that look at the sun without a box with a pinhole in it because they don't want to look stupid and then they get blinded and then pretend they're not really blind because then they'd seem stupid for looking at the sun without a box with a pinhole in it. In other words, they can't see. I was without glasses then. But at least I could see the injuries my team was suffering.

I scrambled across the court and leapt into a foxhole as machine gun fire raked across the court, hitting a bunch of people in the stands. I desperately clutched the ball while under fire and yelled, "APPLE, GO!!!" That was our play name, and coincedentally the Boston Celtics used the same play when they won the NBA championships about a million times. And, more coincedentally, that was Satan's trigger word for his plan.

Bob took off at a mad sprint and clocked an impressive 4.78 miles per hour as he hurtled towards a short fat kid in glasses from North Clarion. At that moment Satan possessed the target of a "Brick Pick," or the short fat kid in glasses from North Clarion, and when Bob slammed into him with the same force as a nuclear submarine hitting a bottlenose dolphin at 45 knots, detonating all the warheads on board, Satan strickenified him with a pathological virus of epic proportions. There was a loud explosion, a thunderclap, and a puff of smoke as the poor kid hit the floor. Satan stole off somewhere and on his way back to Hell, ran into a Goat, which began to walk on two legs and smoke cigarettes.

No one paid much attention to all this since the game itself was like being in a history of torture musuem during a tornado while thousands of Huns battled around you for Iceland. All I can really remember is that we won, our only basketball victory that year, 3-5.

A month later Bob was getting a vaccination for rabies when the doctor came in with grave news.

"Hey Bob, eat this time delay stomach flu pill so you'll have to come back later for antibiotics. Oh and by the way you're schizophrenic."

Bob was FURIOUS. "Why have they lied to me?" Bob 2 was vengeful. "I'll kill those %*3ers!!", a phrase that would get a lot of use later. Bob 3 was sad. "They're gonna make fun of me now." Bob 4 was angry and grunted loudly to show this. "IMAKILLSPITTLER KK. MAAAAH..." Bob 5 sat there silently trying to push his eyes apart. Bob 6 was happy. "At least it wasn't just in my head." They all murmured in agreement.

"It's probably caused by an extreme temperature change at the time of your birth, an excess of estrogen, or a severe lack of a sense of humor."

Thus his maligned personalities started to take over Bob. Bobs 1 and 2 made Bob 5 do all the work of social interaction and started working on plans of world domination and pimping while Bob 3 just sat around and listened to a bunch of emo music. Bob 6 secretly got hooked on cocaine and Bob 4 just lifted weights all the time. And thus Bob took French class.

But God in his omnipresent omnipotence had omnisciently seen this already scandalous corruption, and had planted another Bob, Bob number 7 (the number of God) deep in the recesses of Bob's brain.

Bob (as a whole), of course, didn't really notice anything and tried to live his life out as a normal kid, but since Bob 1 was constantly forcing his will on Bob 5 and making these huge bipolar mood swings, he often would get angry at people, say, trying to repair his broken leg after a card-making accident, or people building him cakes or something. He tried hard to fit in but something inside suggested that he was a cybernetic pimp deep down, which he was. I mean, it's not like you can just go to Wal-Mart and grab a cybernetic pimp and a gallon of milk and then check out and go.home and eat a bag of cheetos and watch Gigli on Pay-Per-View alone, in the dark and cry about how miserable life is. These kind of things take a lot of time and planning, similar to abducting a celebrity's poodle for ransom.

But Bob's pimp ascension is relatively simple in comparision and involves less waiting in vans with a stopwatch, cat, and a net.

Around the year 2001, after a relatively uneventful life (except for the one time in what's it called, and the truck full of SPAM that one time) Bob logged onto the Internet and signed onto ICQ. He would never be the same, because with six personalities to choose from, girls can find something they like in there. And with the anonymity of the internet, Bob 4's slacking in the physical department and Ellen's dad's poor job of making a cybernetic body for Bob wouldn't matter. Ironically Ellen's dad makes babies for women.

To his good fortune Bob was a natural at this "meeting-chicks-over-the-Internet" thing. Perhaps it was his striking features, his chiseled triathletic body, his intellectually engaging conversation, or his keen and insightful wit. Or maybe he discovered the secret to Internet pheremones. In any case within a month he had a network of at least four "employees" at any school in the entire state, including somehow the Amish ones without electricity.  There was no where he could without being covered in a living blanket of nubile adolescent females. Okay, so maybe that's a stretch of the imagination. But still, it was impressive to watch this kid score like Pedro in a cake factory.

But eventually this led to incidents, incidents like "KATRINA!!!", Terra Something from Union, and a series of unfortunate events that can probably be summed up in two sentences:

Brian: How do you get rid of guilt caused by doing something morally wrong and possibly illegal?
Tony: Watch the Catholic Channel!
And then we jumped on a trampoline for a few hours.

Meanwhile Satan was back scheming away like Renurt puzzling away at that 3-D maze in Super Mario RPG.  He scratched the back of his neck and kinda held his hand there for a bit. Then he coughed pathetically and started playing video games.

Wait, that was Renurt.

Josh meanwhile was coming back out of a Chinese Restaurant named Pen Dragon, which is constructed entirely out of pens that haved been draggin' on the ground for awhile. He broke open a small fortune cookie and read the fortune inside. "A prophet in name only save your life, but you'll laugh at him." Josh was like, Dude, what the quail? and ripped his shirt off to go play basketball.

Satan's top demon, Maliforion, was hovering over a small Clarion town beating his wings later that night. A young author was typing away at his masterpiece on a computer that would one day inspire a young missionary named Mark to convert the entire Middle East to Christianity. Maliforion was going to possess the adolescent and change it so that instead his book would promote the repopulation of pandas and discourage eating at McDonald's. He placed a small commode on the ground nearby and it was immediately covered with pandas. Maliforion liked his job. He was Demon of the Month four times this year.  Maliforion then flew in hard and fast to strike the young man whose heart was good and true. 

By some miscalculation he accidentally slammed into the hind end of a large brown dog, who immediately ate him. The young man laughed at his dog's seemingly random auto-biting, and then got distracted and went into the kitchen for a pop and a bag of Oreos.