One my first expedition to Peru, when I was nine, I was met by a strange man on a steamer ship, as we prepared to sail down the Amazon river on our way to Iquitos - his name was Jefe. Now, Jefe taught me a great many things as we sailed down the river - like how to fish, and how to watch for snakes. He even showed me how to clear blockage with properly placed sticks of dynamite. My parents too an interest in Jefe, and invited him back to America to study at the Cambridge School of Ecology - he refused, saying that his people needed him, and he promptly jumped into the Amazon, and swam to the bank - where he was met by an indigenous tribe. They all danced around him, in what I took to be a celebratory dance, but they threw him back into the water - where he was eaten by Pirhana fish. Apparently, he was both a) a sacrafice and b) completely insane. The captain said he always knew he'd be killed by natives.
Now, the natives took an interest in the steamer, and in particular my nubile young sister. Being 16 years old at the time, her gleaming white skin fascinated these savages, and they began to throw their spears at the ship - in hopes of capturing the vessel. My father in turn pulled out his Thompson Sub Machine Gun with the barrel clip, and expertly killed 30 natives. We pulled the steamer ashore, and lit their entire village on fire, using a can of gasoline and a few sticks of Jefe's dynamite. After we rounded up the women and children (after killing all the men) we put them on the ship, where we sold them into slavery in Iquitos.
All except for this one girl, Lenora we called her. She gave her name as something else, but my parents said she should have a Christian name. Lenora was chosen, and she was clothed and taken to our flat in Iquitos. Eventually, I booked passage aboard a large ship that would take us to New York City, and home. During the voyage, I taught Lenora the customs and language of our land. She taught me the resourcefulness of her people, and that they weren't savages at all.
We quickly fell in love, and decided that we needed to exact revenge on the entire ship for killing her village. As we neared the Bermuda Triangle, she and killed everyone on board by garotting them with piano wire we stole from the lounge.
However, as I could not properly navigate a large freighter, we drifted out to sea. Our supplies, however, were vast as the ship was outfitted for 120 passengers, and now only she and I stood alone to use them. Our ship drifted for months, until we landed in a port in the country of Morroco - I pretended to be an Arab, and managed to trade some rope for two camels and three days worth of water. We made our way into the desert, and began to dig at a site I had read about in the vast Iquitos library. Soon, many more people showed up to excavate the site - through my supreme social and navigational skills, I managed to make them partners. Soon, we unearthed the lost city of Johari-El-Barshad. It was swallowed by the Sahara in the 2nd century BC. However, I soon grew bored of the glory - and Lenora by this time. All she did was complain about the sand. So I left her there, and I went to Cairo - city of the living.
I left there soon afterwords, cause hey - It's freaking Cairo, and I took a boat up the Medditeranean Sea to Greece. After eating my fill of baklava and gyros, I finally got a flight home to America.
Oh, and on that plane, I was given the novel Shogun by James Clavell. The main character's name was John Blackthorne. So I stole it, knowing that someday - when the internet was invented and I didn't have to go 1200 baud to a local BBS - I could still use the awesome name.
You've got to be crazy; you gotta have a real need. You gotta sleep on your toes, and when you're on the street, you got to be able to pick out the easy meat with your eyes closed.