The Disciples of Grit

It started as a joke.

One night, after too many beers and an ill-advised deep dive into self-help YouTube, I posted a tweet:

“Success is a mindset. Stop making excuses. Wake up at 4 AM and start winning at life.”

I thought nothing of it. I went to bed, dreaming of a long, lazy Sunday.

The next morning, I woke up to 12,000 retweets.

By lunchtime, my inbox was flooded with messages. “Thank you, Master.” “Your words changed my life.” “I have cast aside weakness and now exist only to WIN.”

I checked my profile. My follower count had exploded overnight. I had somehow become an influencer. Worse—people were treating me like a guru.

I decided to lean into the bit. I tweeted:

“The weak want comfort. The strong seek discipline. CHOOSE WISELY.”

It got 50,000 likes. Someone turned it into an inspirational Instagram post with my face superimposed over a stock image of a mountain.

By the end of the week, my followers had a name: The Disciples of Grit.

A month in, I had a website, a Patreon, and an army of devoted followers who were doing everything I said. I told them to quit caffeine—they did. I told them to sleep in the woods for mental toughness—several nearly froze to death. One guy even tattooed WAKE UP AND WIN across his forehead.

At some point, I should have stopped. Instead, I started selling online courses.

$499.99 – The Masterclass on Grit

• Week 1: Destroying Weakness (Starting With Your Sleep Schedule)

• Week 2: Eliminating Friends Who Don’t Support Your Hustle

• Week 3: Why Emotions Are for Losers

The money poured in. Brands reached out for sponsorships. My face was plastered on T-shirts with slogans like “PAIN IS A CHOICE” and “CRUSH YOUR ENEMIES”.

Then things got weird.

One of my followers emailed me: “Master, when do we march?”

I blinked at the screen. March?

I scrolled through my Discord server. My followers had been… organising. Stockpiling supplies. Talking about “overthrowing the weak.”

I logged onto X. The hashtag #GritRevolution was trending.

I slammed my laptop shut.

I had accidentally started a cult.

I tried to shut it down. I posted, “Hey guys, maybe let’s not form a militant movement? Also, please don’t call me ‘Master.’”

The comments were instant:

• “A test! The Master is testing our loyalty!”

• “Yes, we must remain humble. Let us crush the weak in silence.”

• “Master, we have already begun.”

I turned on the news. There had been rallies. People in homemade WAKE UP AND WIN uniforms were chanting my slogans in the streets.

Panicked, I booked a flight to Mexico. I shaved my head. I deleted all my social media.

It wasn’t enough.

This morning, someone knocked on my door. A man in sunglasses and a Disciples of Grit hoodie stood there, grinning.

“Master,” he said. “We found you.”