Ten years passed.
Bill went on to become something of a legend in his little hometown: He was a perfect student and a dedicated volunteer. He was involved in every extracurricular activity in some way or another. He was captain of the football team, head of the chess club, first-chair violin in the orchestra, and valedictorian. By the time that he was ready to graduate, Bill had been offered a complete scholarship to literally every college in the country (with some schools even offering free alcohol after he turned twenty-one).
It came as something of a shock, then, when after crossing the stage, Bill approached his parents.
"I know that you won't understand this," he said, "but I've decided that I'm not going to college. You see, all of my success and all of my ambition has been driven by a deep, horrible wound that I still carry. I've tried desperately to cover it, to let it heal... but each night, I still hear the voice of that clown in my head. That's why I'm leaving for Tibet. I'm going to seek out and join the monastery where they teach the ancient art of Comebackery, and once I have mastered all that they can offer... I'll come back and have my revenge."
Bill's parents tried to dissuade him, but he was adamant. True to his word, Bill boarded a flight that very evening. He landed in China and trekked on foot to a village at the base of a snow-covered mountain. A year passed as he learned the language and earned the trust of the people who lived there, until the day when one of them gave him whispered directions to the hidden temple. Bill set out again, carrying only a few days' worth of supplies, and finally found himself at the doorstep of the monastery he had sought.
A knock at the door was answered by the head monk; a small, wrinkled man with a bald head and a serene smile.
"My son," the head monk said, "I can see that you have been wronged." (This guy spoke Tibetan, obviously, but the general meaning was the same.) "Normally, you would have to wait here for three days and nights to show your devotion... but I sense that you are a special case. Come into the sanctuary, and we will teach you what you wish to know."
Thus began Bill's life as a Monk of Comebackery. He learned jokes, japes, and jeers. He learned witticisms and retorts. He learned insults, insinuations, dares, and double entendres. Before long, he was able to verbally spar with the very best of his brethren.
Yet still, even after another decade of training, Bill did not feel any closer to learning what he had hoped to find.
One cold winter morning, Bill approached the head monk with his concerns. "Master," he said, "have I not been a good pupil?"
"You have been exemplary," answered the head monk.
"And have I not upheld and embodied everything you have taught?"
"Indeed you have," the head monk replied.
"Then," Bill said, steadying himself, "I wish to learn the forbidden knowledge. I wish to learn... The Ultimate Comeback."
[Continued]()...