Over the course of my life, I have trained to master the arts of the yo-yo. I had practiced every trick in the book, from double yo-yo tricks to offstring yo-yo tricks. I practiced for five hours every day, to the point where I would skip homework assignments in order to ensure that my tricks would be perfected. I would travel across the world, competing against other yo-yoers in order to be the yo-ist I can be. I didn’t think I would be able to achieve the accomplishments that I have had so far, but by practicing to my yo-ist potential, I had become the yo-yoist in the nation. My yo-yo tricks were so terrific, I would gather crowds based on a single trick alone.

I had decided that in order to compete in the yo-yo world championships, I would have to train under a yo-yo master. After weeks of internet searching, I had learned that the last yo-yo master lives in secrecy in Nepal. I remarked that he was not that secret if I could find him on the internet. I had packed my five most yo-ist yo-yo’s that I owned, and began my journey to find the yo-yo master. I found the secret area that the yo-yo master had been in, only after losing my leg and three of my yo-yo’s. I walked to him, and I told him “I want to be a yo-yo man. Make me a yo-yo man!” But the yo-yo master did not answer. He just kept on yo-ing.