Dr Angus

Keenan Fritz.

Ah, the familiar sting of betrayal. A feeling that Angus had felt many times throughout his career.

Because when you are an eminently unattractive super genius, no-talent handsome boofheads will try to take it from you - it’s a law of the universe he’s surprised a theoretical physicist hadn’t yet put a formula to. It was surely as a reliable constant as general relativity - it was something you could really set your watch to.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Angus had had his work stolen, reattributed, relabelled and just plain ridiculed by boofheads the country over. But know who was laughing? They were probably all dead.

Angus took a moment to consider how awful a person he would have had to be to fantasise about the death of his detractors. But then he kept thinking it anyway.

But now Keenan? Certainly a boofhead - certainly not handsome in any normal sense of the word. He’s bumbling, tall, sweaty and bald.

And generally harmless. Gormless. Everything-less.

A stab in the back from gormless Fritz? How novel.

Let’s see what he has to say for himself then.