Bitefighter here—ten lb. Terrier Extraordinaire, 83rd level intellect, and the deadliest being within this backwater cluster of 54 galaxies known as the Local Group. I’ve fought off Grays, Insectoids, and vampire CHUDs. None of that, however, is as grueling as my day-to-day mission:
Taking care of my pet human—the Man Whore and author known as Kent Wayne.
Currently, his genitalia have overridden his prefrontal cortex, causing him to revert to his primitive Man Child state. He’s hooting and gibbering, racing through the streets of San Francisco on all fours, emitting copious amounts of flatulence while humping the legs of errant soccer moms. He’s been maced four times, and tasered seven. Doesn’t matter—when cock n’ balls are in control, he’s got the strength of ten men, plus the insanity of a meth’d up Shia Labeouf.
“Bad human!” I yell. “BAD HUMAN!” I flip and tumble through Golden Gate Park, brandishing a can of Code Red Mountain Dew, trying to draw in my errant hominid. “C’MERE KENT! BAD HUMAN!!!”
Suddenly, Steven Seagal materializes a hundred yards ahead of us, wearing nothing but a cape and a speedo with a yin/yang on its center. He does some fake-ass yoga breaths and hokey arm waves, causing his hairy, bulging belly to jiggle and shudder. Then he spreads his arms wide.
“Come on Kent!” He grins with pure malice. “Come to Steven! I’ll teach you Form 341 Karate Teleport, plus I’ll show you how to singlehandedly take on an entire company of Orcish special operators!”
“DON’T YOU TOUCH HIM!” I roar, somersaulting off the hood of a Prius. “GET YOUR FILTHY FAKE MARTIAL ARTS HANDS AWAY FROM HIM, CRAZY MC-CRAZEPANTS! KENT! I’VE GOT MOUNTAIN DEW! REMEMBER YOUR LOVE OF MOUNTAIN DEW, BY ALL THAT’S HOLY!!!”
Kent stops in his tracks. He looks from Seagal to the Mountain Dew. Aside from us three—me, Steven, and Kent—the street is completely empty.
A giant tumbleweed blows across the pavement.
Steven straightens up. “The great Bitefighter,” he rasps. “Care to match psyches?”
“I’ll meet you in the Mindscape,” I snarl.
Both of us sit in the middle of the street and eject our consciousnesses from our bodies. Time passes faster in the Mindscape, so neither of us have to worry about getting hit by cars—this should be over in less than a second.
There’s no time to orient myself—as soon as I swim free of my body, Steven and I are locked in mind-to-mind combat, tumbling through a multiversal bleed. In the eddies and flows of concepts and dreams, we exchange psychogenic attacks and self-reflexive traps. His strategy is pretty simple: he throws handful upon handful of Utter Crazy at me—black-ops dinosaurs, Elven nunchaku skills, a non-fugly version of Gary Busey—while I rip his premises apart, invalidating them with a rip-chain barrage of sound syllogistics and deductive weaponry.
It’s only seconds before I begin to falter. This insane motherfucker is packing far too much bullshit for me to handle. Have you ever matched wits with a total and utter idiot who bulls through life on the sheer strength of their dumbass convictions? Yeah, they eventually get beaten into the dust, but lemme tell you—conviction can carry you a long fucking way. Such is the case with Steven Seagal.
Only one option left. I reach into Kent Wayne’s mind and psychically spark his sci-fi narrative—the one titled Echo—activating its reality distortion powers. Magic flash.
Kent Wayne joins us in astral form. Clutched in his right hand is…what the fuck? Through my multi-spective sight I can see that it’s something immensely powerful, something unbelievably deadly, something—
Great Rao in Krypton—it’s Tom Selleck’s mustache.
Steven turns around, his eyes wide and panicked, just as Kent wraps the mustache around Steven’s throat and pulls on both ends, viciously garroting the fake kung-fu/karate/aikido/black-ops/chi-fireball master. Steven hacks and spits. The eyes of his astral body bug out cartoonishly.
He manages, “You…will…pay…Bitefighter…you…will…kkkkkkk…KKKKK….”
And then he vanishes in a flutter of bats.
Kent and I exchange a relieved look, then sigh in unison. He raises an eyebrow.
I clap hands with my pet human.
The adventures of Bitefighter and Man Child continue!
Are you a super-intelligent Terrier whose pet human has run amuck and is being lured into peril by a washed-up 90s action star? 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 Echo Vol. 1 & 2 Combined Edition here: Combined Edition #kindle #kindleunlimited #sciencefiction #scifi #books #novel #book