Metrosexuals have taken over the world.  They’ve stripped me naked and fixed me to a vertical rack, stretching my body across a set of wooden rollers.  They’ve covered me in waxing cream and plastered waxing strips over every inch of my body.  RIIIIIIIPPP!  I scream as a giant tract of hair flies off me.  They do it again, and my heart drops as I realize they’re about to make me look like a ten-year old boy.  Suddenly I see my loyal terrier, Bitefighter, running toward me with my eReader in his teeth.  He spits it out, and it opens to Echo.  Magic flash.  A single mustache hair from Teddy Roosevelt sinks towards me, catching the light in a twinkling shine.  My eyes fixate on it as it drifts down…down…as soon as it touches my chest my biceps grow into thick, rippling lengths of python-like muscle.  A hardened eight-pack pops out on my torso.  I flex inward, shattering my bonds and throw my head back in a triumphant roar, veins popping from my neck.  Yeah, I know how to throw jabs, crosses, uppercuts and overhands, but I stick with the manliest punch ever—the haymaker—as I start mowing through legions of overly groomed, metrosexual elf-men.

There is no way I will submit to daily hours of plucking, tweezing, and whatever the hell else I have to do to appear as if puberty passed me by.  Get Echo Vol. 1 on Kindle here:  Vol. 1 on Kindle.  Vol. 2 on Kindle here:  Vol.2 on Kindle.