A Doctorate in Evil

I’ll admit, I side-eyed the ‘ninja middle schooler’ premise at first—how many ways can you spin ‘kid with a secret’? But *A Doctorate in Evil* won me over in the first five minutes, and it’s all thanks to two things: **Write Blocked’s knack for physical comedy in prose**, and **Dave Droxler’s ability to sell absolute nonsense with gravitas**. There’s a scene where Nate attempts to scale a school wall during PE, only to get tangled in a jump rope, and Droxler’s escalating panic—half whispered, half squeaked—had me cackling in my headphones. The man *commits* to the bit, whether he’s voicing Dr. Herobrine’s unhinged monologues (think a cross between a mad scientist and a theater kid who discovered caffeine) or Nate’s internal meltdown over texting his crush. The story’s strength lies in its **relentless, episodic momentum**. At just over an hour, it never overstays its welcome, but that’s also its minor flaw: the villain’s plan feels rushed in the final act, resolved with a convenience that might leave older listeners rolling their eyes. (Kids won’t care. Adults might groan.) The production is clean, though I wished for more dynamic sound design—this is a book *begging* for cartoonish *whooshes* and *bonks* to match its visual gags. Still, the trade-off is a narration so expressive it doesn’t need bells and whistles. If you’ve got a kid who’s graduated from *Dog Man* but isn’t ready for *Percy Jackson*’s density, or if you’re an adult who misses the chaos of being 12, this is a **sharp, silly escape** with more heart than it lets on. Just don’t blame me if you start practicing your ‘ninja hallway walks’ afterward.