Samuel L. Johnson
“I'm tired of these motherfucking snakes on this motherfucking plane”
"OMG IT'S MORPIUS"
~ Some Sci-Fi nerd on Samuel L. JAckson
Dr. Samuel L. Johnson, LLD, better known as "the other Dr. Johnson", "the cooler Dr. Johnson" or simply as "The Man" was a towering figure in Eighteenth Century English Literature. Though unrelated to the other Dr. Johnson, his career parallels that of his namesake; with the exception of being much cooler, sexier and more violent.
Johnson was born under a full moon on Salisbury Plain. Legend has it that his future greatness was forshadowed when, as an infant, he was attacked by vipers which he defeated by shooting them all to bits with a tiny little automatic flintlock pistol, saying "Z---ds! I have had my fill of theſe d----d snakes on this d----d plain!". Once he had defeated all of the snakes on the plain, he went to school at Stourbridge, where he met his future lifelong rival, Dr. Samuel "No L" Johnson.
Whilst Dr. S. Johnson was a sickly child who suffered from scrofula, obesity, depression, Tourette's Syndrome, dropsy and spastic bladder disorder, Dr. S. L. Johnson grew up to be a towering pillar of ebony muscle. His body was chock full of midiclorians, thus giving him the ability to manipulate the Force. However, he was just so cool that he rarely had to do so, and preferred to save his Jedi powers for literary battles with Alexander Popeatine and Darth Byron. Johnson and Johnson (no relation to either the shampoo company of the same name, or the 1980s TV show, Simon and Simon) took an immediate dislike to each other.
This is typified by an incident described both in Boswell's Life of Johnson. According to Boswell, L accused L-less of being fat, to which Johnson replied,
"I ſhould rather have a corpulant body, ſir, than a fat head; and ſo fat is your overſized cranium that all around you do grow moſt obeſe."
To this, Johnson slowly and menacingly replied:
"I... don't... remember... aſking you... a God... d--ned... thing."
He then beat up Johnson and took his "Bad Mother Fucker" wallet.
S. L.'s biography (see below) confirms most of this story, but denies that Samuel Johnson ever owned any such wallet.
In the years after school, S Johnson lived in poverty, slowly building his reputation as a litarary man, whilst S L Johnson was called straight to the Royal Foundation for Wits, Poets and Dilletantes, where he was appointed to the High Council. He was offered the job of "Pimping Up" the British Museum, but instead opted to write a series of articles for the Gentleman'ſ Magazine on The Noble Art of ſelf-Defence, or, We ſhould Have ſhotgunſ For Thiſ. The Museum job went instead to David Garrick whose exhibition "Bling from the Pharoah's Tomb" was the highlight of the London season.
Within a few years, S L Johnson learned that S Johnson had found a patron to pay him while he wrote his famous Dictionary of the Engliſh Language. Determined not to be one-upped by his near namesake, S L declared "it'ſ neceſſary to make the dictionary" and started on his own.
The rivalry between the two was so fierce that it even affected some of the entries in their respective dictionaries. S L Johson defined jerkwad as a noun "deſcribing a perſon of poor manners and poorer hygeine, coming from queſtionable parentage and chubby to boot, eg, Dr. Samuel Johnson"; brandy was described as "a drink for chubby man-harlotſ with brainſ the ſize of those of Marie-Antoinette and titſ to match"; and, in his most savage definition, johnson was defined as "euphemiſm for a human peniſ. Quote: The fatter the Johnſon, the smaller the johnſon - S L Johnson, 1732"
However, it is agreed by many that S. Johnson got the better of his rival when he defined ſhaft as an "adjective deſcribing a remake far inferior to the original production."
To this definition, King George II is said to have commented "oh, ſnap!"
Irritated by his defeat at the hands of his rival, Samuel L Johnson decided to walk the Earth having adventures and occasionally stopping for a while to write a novel. Many of these, though popular at the time, are seldom read nowadays. Possibly the reason for this is that modern food preservatives have weakened the gene that allows humans to synthesise cowabungamine, the enzime that allows one to break down large molecules of awesomeness into manageable chunks. As such, many modern readers who have tried to read out of print copies of Johnson's classic xXx vs. SWAT, Rear Windu or ſerious Literature have died trying, literally blown away by Johnson's prose.
As such, most readers get to know Johnson not through his books, but through books written about him, most notably Sir Gabriel Yoda's classic eight volume work Hm, Yes, Johnſon, the Life Of, which contains thousands upon thousands of anecdotes concerning the witty remarks, cool deeds and booty pleasing of Johnson.
When an eye injury caused Johnson to cut down on the whole walking the Earth business, he returned to London to discover that S Johnson had formed a group called "The Club", consisting of some of the most talented literary men in England, including Joshua Reynolds, Edmund Burke, David Garrick and Oliver Goldsmith. L Johnson decided to respond by forming his own club, called "The Better Club" (whose slogan was "The Club ſo good, they ain't even born yet!") and consisting of Quentin Tarantino, Jerry Bruckheimer, John Travolta and, tragically, George Lucas. Soon, London newspapers were full of accounts of the rivalry between the two clubs, or at least they were until the journalists were distracted by a cat stuck in a tree.
Eventually, George Lucas betrayed and murdered Johnson, as he had so many others. Even more tragically, S L Johnson died mere days before S Johnson, allowing the latter to win an ongoing bet between the two, "laſt man alive gets to pee on the other man's grave".
Johnson was buried in the Great Pyramid of London, which would remain the tallest structure on Earth until the building of the Eiffel Tower.
In 2005, having spent over a century digging his way out of his tomb, Dr. Samuel L. Johnson went to Paris and pulled down the Eifel Tower with his bare hands.
There were no survivors.