When we were growing up, me and all my friends gave each other stupid Hip Hop names. Since my surname begins with W it was a trifle hard to parse, so I ended up as Jimmy Wee. My sister was as Tracker K.
One name was even applied to a friend’s dad, and it stuck: twenty years on, I was at his sixtieth birthday party, and despite him being an eminent scientist and director of several multinational corporations, everyone was still calling him “MC Billy D”. He gave a short speech, and the audience chanted “MC Billy D on the mike”.