Palamades Publishing: Get your fix of poetry, ghosts, and soon…giant robots. That’s right: Giant robots motha duckas!

I’m nodding off in accounting class, my ears abuzz with banal-sounding phrases such as “Direct labor,” “Manufacturing overhead,” and “Selling and Administrative Costs…”  One after the other after the other…my eyes droop halfway shut, and a string of drool slips unnoticed from the corner of my mouth.  My head bobs down as I momentarily lose myself to sleep.  It jerks back up just before it hits the desk.  Suddenly I’m wide awake, and I see that the professor and all thirty-some odd students have surrounded me and are now giving me a hateful glare.  As I wipe the drool off my mouth I say, “Um…something I can help you with?”  An evil chuckle from the professor.  He looks at his vitamin-d deprived cronies like I just said something hilarious.  “Something I can help you with,” he repeats disdainfully, a statement which evokes a bevy of Wormtongue-esque snickers.  He fixes his stare on me once again.  “Yeah Kent.  How about you ditch your crap-ass writing and get with the program?  Give the class a working definition of what ‘fixed costs within a relevant range’ are.  Do it or I’m gonna peg you with what I call ‘the Egg Scrambler.’ ”  I snort laughter and say, “You’re joking, right?”  I look around at the horde of nerds and reiterate, “He’s joking.”  But the smile fades from my face as my accounting professor produces a one-and-a-half-foot, weatherized dungeon dildo that could easily double as a Holy Mace +3 against chaotic evil, +5 against the undead.  He presses a switch on the bottom of it.  Its head begins whirring with a sinister “vmmmm,” then multiple blunt-end barbs ratchet away from the top with a stark sounding KA-CHUNK.  The head of the mace now looks like its decorated with tiny hooks.  My eyes open wide and I straighten up in my chair, almost knocking my desk over.  HOLY BALLS!  They start closing in on me, their faces shining with sick, twisted grins.  I blurt, “But you haven’t given me the chance to answer yet!  You haven’t—” they’re not listening.  I can see in their eyes they wanna make my butt into what’s colloquially known as a “gaper.”  (don’t look that up)  In sheer panic I scream, “PALAMEDES PUBLISHING!”  The room fills with bitter, acrid smoke, and everyone starts coughing.  The smoke quickly clears, and I see none other than Jeopardy host and American Hero Alex Trebek sitting quietly at the teacher’s desk.  He’s smoking a cigarette, looking as cool as a cucumber.  He taps ash from his cig and drawls, “You know…decades of asking question after question.  Listening to the same fit-in-the-box, rote-ass drivel.  There was only one guest that ever said anything that ever made any sense to me.  Do you know who that was?”  For the moment he’s cast a spell on the room, and everyone watches in fascination as he takes a drag off the smoke, causing its cherry-red end to glow ember-bright.  “It was Sean Connery.  And as far as your question about fixed costs within a relevant range…I’ll give you the same answer that he gave me—the same answer that bought relief to my soul after years of catering to desperate jack-holes.  The answer to fixed costs within a relevant range is…” his eyes briefly squint as he stares off in the distance and takes another drag.  Then his gaze focuses laser-sharp on the accounting professor.  “The answer is:  ‘Your mother, Trebek.’ ”  He flicks his cigarette into the professor’s eye, causing him to stumble back, screaming and clutching at his face.  Before the shocked students can react, Trebek leaps over the desk like Wolverine and begins plowing into nerds, beating face and ass like there’s no tomorrow.  In the midst of the savage melee I see he’s snatched up the mace-dildo, and he’s using it to bludgeon the living shit out of the flock of accounting nerds.  He grins at me, dildo raised high, his blood-streaked cheeks lit by the lurid light of the fluorescent overheads.  “Get out of here Kent!  It’s my time!  I’ve always hated Jeopardy—but damn, I LIVE for this shit!”  And thus ended the legend of Alex Trebek:  hater of accounting, wielder of mace-dildos, and Hero to the people.

Are you surrounded by evil nerds whose sole focus in life is to eat your will to live?  Conjure yourself up a grizzled Trebek—one whose hate knows no bounds.  Palamedes Publishing.  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


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