Mike Tyson might not have been the greatest heavyweight champion in history, but he's definitely the most intellectual.
Asked to name his all-time favorite book, the retired boxer and all-around social phenomenon doesn't hesitate.
"The Count of Monte Cristo," Tyson says in that much-imitated voice. "Awesome. That's some real stuff right there."
Betrayal by supposed friends.
Escape, followed by a revenge tour.
The parallels to Tyson's own incredible life are many.
More recently Tyson, who will appear Saturday night at Seminole Coconut Creek Casino in his one-man show, "Mike Tyson: Undisputed Truth," has been reading about psychopaths.
He instantly saw himself in Kevin Dutton's recent release, "The Wisdom of Psychopaths: What Saints, Spies and Serial Killers Can Teach Us About Success."
"These psychopaths, they have a perfect memory," Tyson says. "That's the reason why they're so depressed and miserable. They're able to remember everything."
Tyson, who has been diagnosed with bipolar disorder and has done plenty of things he'd prefer to forget, can relate.
"If you ever see a depressed person … they hold on to everything," he says. "They play with pictures all the time."
The trick, Tyson says, is to learn how to let go.
"Look at my wife," he says. "She has the worst memory in the world. She doesn't remember her middle name sometimes, but she's always happy. She makes me sick sometimes. She's too happy. Always laughing."
Remarried since 2009, Tyson wishes he could be more like the former Kiki Spicer, his third wife.
"I ask her how she does that, and she says you have to let it go," Tyson says. "Our minds want us to be mad and miserable. That's what we fight against. Me? I have too much going on."
Tyson, 46, could stand on that stage for two weeks straight and still not completely unburden himself.
One of our most compelling and controversial sports figures ever, Tyson didn't just burn through an estimated $300 million in career earnings.
He didn't just go to prison for three years on a rape conviction, didn't just throw away a chance at being the greatest heavyweight who ever lived, didn't just lose a 4-year-old daughter in a tragic accident.
Along the way, he accrued enough wisdom and experience to fill three lifetimes.