The world’s collective consciousness has been invaded by a dark, nightmare-inducing entity called Grammar Nerd Shadow. Every night for the past ten years, GNS has invaded the sleep of billions across the planet to insert asinine, pedantic corrections into any stories that the sleeping masses might be dreaming up. I’ve been tapped to combat this heinous piece of Unimagination. Right now I’m seated in front of a panel of Earth’s greatest scientists; they’ve created a thought-projection helmet that grants me the ability to fight GNS on his home turf. Lead science guy utters, “Good hunting,” in a gravelly voice before lowering the helmet’s blinking visor over my eyes. I spiral free of reality and find myself in a realm of shifting colors and blurry haze. GNS is right in the middle of it, talking to a classroom full of dull-eyed souls that are manacled to cheap, crumbling desks. This bespectacled scumbag has chosen to instantiate a giant powerpoint projector and go over the finer points of block paragraphs and sentence construction. “HEY!” I yell. “Douche-lord!” GNS looks at me, and a flash of hate blazes through his eyes. “Kent,” he hisses. “I’m gonna make your brain bleed…AFTER I sever your beautiful genitals and mount ’em on my astral trophy wall.” He comes at me, morphing into a giant piece of feces (how appropriate, I think), that’s wielding a two-handed greatsword. I slip the first cut and imagine an eReader into existence. Another flex of my will and it opens to Echo. Swirling brightness erupts from its screen and crashes into GNS. “AAARGH!” The feces-thing screams, protecting its face with a forearm. “TOO…MUCH…IMAGINATION!” The light from my eReader cyclones around GNS, then forms into a giant gleaming toilet. The lever twitches down, and GNS gives me a panicked look. “No!” he yells. The toilet begins flushing. Its gravitic pull spaghettifies GNS’s body like he was being sucked into a black hole. “WAAAAAAIIIIIIIIT DOOOOOOOONNNNNNN”’TTTT—” he yells as he disappears into the psychic drain. Once he’s gone the toilet emits a low-toned belch and winks out from existence.
78% of all kill-me-please boredom is caused by bitter nerds that have taken residence on the astral plane. Make sure you’re not a victim. Get Echo Vol. 1 on Kindle here: Vol. 1 on Kindle. Vol. 2 on Kindle here: Vol.2 on Kindle Vol. 3 on Kindle here: Vol. 3 on Kindle