[ WP ] A man finds an old book titled `` The Handbook of Evil '' .

Same old story. Walking down an alley late at night, old shop, creepy owner, lots of weird merch, bought something, left, and bang, shop gone. 
 
 And here I am, holed up in a motel. Just me, a few cans of Red Bull, and The Handbook of Evil. 
 
 I've been crying a lot. The stories, the tutorials, the hand-drawn diagrams. They make me want to retch, scream. But I can also feel the temptation. There's power here. The type of power that could unify the world, or break it. 
 
 And just when I think I have it together, when I've worked things out, the thought occurs to me, and I break down again. A terrible, unbearable thought: 
 
 Why, why did n't I take that Handbook of Orgasm too?
