I’m in a coffee shop, talking myself through some story events, and I say the politically incorrect thing AGAIN! (This time it was something about limiting the number of gender pronouns to under a million.) And guess what: motha duckin’ Social Justice Warriors heard me a few yards away. I tip my table up just in time—hundreds of throwing knives bury themselves into my impromptu barrier. THUNKTHUNKTHUNK! The baleful-looking tip of a dirk punches past the wood, penetrating an inch through the material and stopping a few centimeters away from my right eye. JEE-zus! I can’t help but flinch back as the knives dig into my shielding. I kick the table toward my attackers, run out the door, and sprint down the street. As I’m leaving I see dozens of them raise their fists above their heads and touch their hands together. They scream, “SOCIAL JUSTICE WARRIORS UNITE!” There’s a blinding flash, and suddenly I’m being pursued by scores of pissed off nerds…with pixie wings. The SJWs have taken to the air, assisted by transparent, insectile-looking wings that have sprouted from their backs. Despite their propulsion mechanisms looking straight-up fairytale-ish, their weaponry is anything but: Each of them is packing a tricked out M-27 assault rifle with all the fixings: rail systems, optics, M203 launchers; I am SCREWED. Unless…I stop running, face my enemies, and scream “PALAMEDES PUBLISHING!!!” Magic flash. From the earpiece that’s just materialized on my skull, I hear a dry, cigar-hardened voice say: “This is Sergeant Cano, 7th Regiment, Galactic Space Marines. We have a rescue order to save your ass Kent. Launching from our low orbit camp in 5…4…3…2..” I hear the welcome scream of mixed gas rockets as a circuitry-lined pod comes streaking down from the heavens. It hits the street with a gigantic BOOM, and a second later, its sides fly off in a hiss of compressed gas. Battle-suited Space Marines (just like in Starcraft, all you gamers holla) come rushing out and establish a firing line. Their rifles start chirping out bursts of dark-matter sabot, tearing the SJWs into bite-sized chunks. Sergeant Cano throws me a cigar and a pistol…as well as a smile. He winks at me and rasps, “Get some, Writer.” F yeah! Nothing better than fighting off overly righteous, pixie-winged dickheads!
Express the wrong opinion about gender pronouns? There will come a day when your comment will inspire a platoon of pixie-winged SJWs to try and murk your ass. On that day, call on Palamedes Publishing, and rejoice in the glory of all that is Space Marine. Check out their revolutionary eBookmaker software here: eBookmaker. Check out their poetry here: Machu Picchu Me They will soon offer Echo Volume 1 in paperback. For now, 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