Fatty never expected to become a Savior since childhood.
Back when he was running around the garden in the residential area, dirty and wild with a group of kids, he was already tired of the cliché TV plot of one person saving the world.
Perhaps he should say, none of those protagonists were Fatty; each was handsomer than him.
Therefore, when a child three years older than him in the community draped in a bed sheet as a cape, wearing a military hat folded from newspaper, and holding a wooden stick stood on the steps declaring he wanted to be a hero who saves the world, this precocious and annoying little Fatty sniffling happily poured cold water saying, those who want to be a Savior are either immortals or lunatics.
That angry kid was certainly not an immortal, so the little Fatty got beat up by a group of little lunatics and went home crying.
