SILICON VALLEY—In a plot twist that makes his kale-and-cryo lifestyle look tame, tech mogul Bryan Johnson dropped a jaw-dropping claim yesterday: he’s 1,000 years old, with a physiological age that once hit a “leet” 1,337 thanks to a cocktail of biohacking and what he calls “ancient sorcery.” The Blueprint Project founder spilled the beans in a holographic Zoom call, claiming his immortality stems from a secret blend of medieval potions and cutting-edge tech. Anchored by the sliver of truth that Johnson’s real-world anti-aging experiments are obsessive, this tale’s wilder than a time machine stuck in a kale blender.

The Ageless Alchemist

Johnson, looking like he just stepped out of a Renaissance painting with suspiciously flawless skin, made the announcement from a sleek lab lined with bubbling vials and glowing monitors. “I’ve been alive since the year 1025, folks,” he boasted, holding up a vial labeled “Elixir of Eternity.” “I stumbled on a witch’s grimoire in a 12th-century monastery, mixed it with some CRISPR tech, and boom—immortality!” He claims his anti-aging regimen, a mix of “quantum herbs” and daily blood filtration, keeps his cells younger than a TikTok influencer’s skincare routine.

His secret? A shadowy cabal of alchemists and biohackers he calls the “Order of the Eternal Glow.” Johnson says this group, formed during the Crusades, has been tweaking his protocols for centuries, with one mishap pushing his physiological age to 1,337 before they “ironed out the kinks.” Now, he’s back to a spry “biological 18,” despite witnessing everything from the Magna Carta to the invention of the internet.

The Immortal Backlash

The revelation sparked a firestorm. Health gurus are skeptical, with one calling it “a smoothie-fueled fever dream.” But Johnson’s fans are all in, flooding online forums with posts about joining the “Eternal Glow” waitlist. A leaked Blueprint memo hints at a new venture: “Immortality as a Service,” where subscribers pay $1 million a year for a shot at Johnson’s elixir recipe. Critics warn it’s probably just overpriced green juice, but that hasn’t stopped billionaires from booking consultations.

The public’s divided. Some hail Johnson as a visionary who’s cracked the code to eternal life, while others suspect he’s trolling harder than a medieval jester. A wellness influencer quipped, “If Bryan’s 1,000, I’m the Queen of Sheba!” Meanwhile, historians are baffled, pointing out that Johnson’s claim of “advising Leonardo da Vinci on anatomy” doesn’t add up. Johnson brushed it off: “Haters gonna hate, but my telomeres don’t lie.”

Forever Young or Forever Faking?

As Johnson retreats to his “chrono-lair” for another round of “quantum rejuvenation,” the world’s left grappling with his claims. Is he really a millennium-old alchemist, or is this a publicity stunt to sell more Blueprint supplements? One thing’s clear: if Johnson’s been dodging death for 1,000 years, the only thing more eternal than his life is his knack for grabbing headlines.

Leslie Knope is a satirist who’s sticking to coffee and cardio for her anti-aging plan.