“Swear the Man Child in.”
I place my hand on a first edition issue of Frank Miller’s Dark Knight Returns #1 and swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help me Batman.
I take a seat behind the stand.
The soccer mom prosecutor paces back and forth across the courtroom floor, her high heels clicking against the marble tile. “Man Child Kent Wayne, is it true that you’ve been a Man Whore for the past several years?”
I lean towards the microphone. “Ah, yes that’s true. I’ve been a Man Whore for my entire adult life.”
The prosecutor takes off her glasses and folds them into her breast pocket. She unpins her hair and shakes it loose.
“Permission to treat the witness as well-endowed.”
The soccer mom judge gives her a nod. “Permission granted.”
“Kent Wayne, please stand up.”
I stand up. I’m dressed in nothing but a bowtie and booty shorts. Gasps and murmurs erupt from the assembled soccer moms.
“Rachel Ray’s fair-trade frittatas!”
“You can tell that it curves UP…”
“I’m guesstimating 5.5 inch circumference…”
The prosecutor: “Kent Wayne, please divest yourself of pants and turn around.” She produces a giant, phallic truncheon.
My butt-cheeks clench together out of nervous reflex. “Um…I don’t do butt-stuff. Not to be a party-pooper, but—”
The prosecutor turns to the judge. “Permission to ravage the defendant’s anus.”
The judge nods. “Permission granted.”
A rousing cry erupts from the stands and hordes of soccer moms rush toward me, all brandishing some form of prehensile dildo. I look wildly from side to side, then run across the courtroom on all fours, screaming in wild, incoherent gibbers.
“Ook ook AWK! No butt-stuff, goddammit! NO BUTT-STUFF!”
But there’s too many of ’em. The soccer moms pile on me and drum my squat-thickened cheeks with their multitude of dildos, chanting in some strange, lost tongue from ancient Sumeria.
No options left. I reach into a secret sleeve within my booty shorts and open my eReader to Echo, activating its reality distortion powers. Magic flash.
I’m suddenly clutching fistfuls of gift cards from the Container Store, Ikea, and Pier One Imports. I chuck them into the air, and light twinkles and flashes across their hologrammed surfaces. Dozens of eyes turn toward the ceiling, transfixed by the shower of yuppie bait.
Then they start tearing each other part.
It’s worse than The Walking Dead—this is some straight up 28 Days Later shiz. Entrails and limbs go flying through the courtroom, chased by lurid arcs of glistening blood. I make my escape blubbering and crying, covered in the blood of rabid soccer moms.
Never get between a soccer mom and yuppie bait!
Are you on trial for a gorgeous set of genitals? Never fear! 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 #kindle #kindleunlimited #sciencefiction #scifi #books #novel #book