Some say that the most unusual thing about Dirt Bike Baby is his dirt bike. Others say it’s his babiness. The closest answer is that it’s some combination of the two.

Dirt Bike Baby spends his mornings driving off into the sunset. His favorite color is anger, and his favorite emotion is gasoline. When he walks, people listen, and when he talks, people move out of the way. When Dirt Bike Baby was born, everyone died.

Dirt Bike Baby doesn’t go to school. He knows how a bill becomes a man. There are rumors that Dirt Bike Baby employs a body double, which he does, to pretend to be a normal baby. Occasionally, he’ll cry—tears of joy, at the wakes of his enemies.

Dirt Bike Baby never grows older—only meaner. Dirt Bike Baby can read, unlike most babies his age. He can also drive, steal, beat, burn, and brutalize. His town voted him best all-around. Dirt Bike Baby punched his town in the face for pandering.

Dirt Bike Baby kisses politicians on the forehead to remind them not to mess with him. His diapers wet themselves out of sheer terror. Once, someone tried to play peek-a-boo with Dirt Bike Baby. His eyes are shut for good.

They say that Dirt Bike Baby speaks to the Devil, to impart advice. Instead of a pacifier, Dirt Bike Baby sucks on a pistol and plays Russian roulette. He uses tummy time as a form of torture. Dirt Bike Baby has said many things. None of them are true, except for his lies.

Yet, deep down, Dirt Bike Baby is searching for love. He hopes that, one day, he’ll find it, and when he does, he’ll put a bullet in its head.