Echo: A Dystopian Science Fiction Novel

I scramble to the top of the playground slide, plant a Batman flag in one its nooks, and solemnly state, “I, 9-year old Kent Wayne, do hereby declare this slide to be mine.  All life forms within a ten-yard radius of its bottom lip shall fall under my just protection.  Any who seek to violate the laws of Kent shall—”

Clap.  Clap.  Clap. 

I turn around and lock eyes with my 10-year old rival and pubically superior counterpart.

“Shall what?” Gerald Van Frankenwinkle asks as he approaches my fortress.  “Lick my newly-haired ballsack?”

His three enormous 11-year old goons chuckle menacingly.

I point a shaking finger at them.  “Back off, Gerald.  I’m keeping my lunch money today, and if you don’t like it, then you can eat barf!”

He stops in front of the slide, eyebrows raised.  “Oh I don’t eat barf, Kent; I eat the finest cuisines known to man.  If it doesn’t have a hard-to-pronounce French name, then I feed it to my dog.  See this suit?”  He grips the lapel of his blazer and grins up at me.  “Made by a certified Hungarian hunchback.  Cost my dad ten thousand of his hard-earned dollars, which he made through his trillion dollar corporation:  Third-World Peasant Whippers.  And look at you,” he flings a derisive hand at me.  “Still wearing Batman shirts and Robotech beanies.  You’re such a child.”

I cling to the top of my slide and glare defiantly at him.  “That’s right—I AM a child.  A child who protects this slide from cheese-scrotes like you.  Now fuck off before I wheel-kick you straight in the dick.”

His face reddens and he clenches his fists.  “That’s crossing the line—my balls were smelly that day because they’d just dropped and I was undergoing an acceleration in my puberty.  You KNOW this, so don’t go calling me—”

I start twerking on top of the slide, chanting, “Cheesy BALLS!  Cheesy BALLS!  Cheesy B—”

Gerald points at me and roars, “GET HIM!”

His goons scramble up the slide.  One of them puts me in a full nelson, while the others start slugging me in the belly.  OOF!  FUCK!  OW! 

The punches keep coming.  My will to resist drops with each hit, and Gerald claps his hands in glee, every so often throwing a fist into the air to celebrate my pain.

Only one option left.  I rip an arm free, reach into my pocket, and open my eReader to Echo, activating its reality distortion powers.  Magic flash.

Suddenly, I’m transformed into my current self:  30 something year old hirsute Man Child and zany sci fi author.  The kids stop punching and stumble back, looking fearfully up at my broad-shouldered torso.

“You.”  I point at the one who was working my liver like it was a side of beef in the latest Rocky movie.  “What’s your name?”

“B-b-b-Brutus,” he stammers.

“Nuh-uh.”  I shake my head.  “Now it’s Fucko.  Give me your backpack, Fucko.”

Fucko hands over his backpack with shaking hands.  I tilt it back and forth, as if I was examining it…then spin like a discus thrower and chuck it into the distance.  It turns into a small dot in the blue summer sky…then disappears beneath the horizon.

Gerald shakes his fist at me.  “Wait until I tell my father, Wayne!  You’ll rue the day!  You’ll—”

I interrupt him by ripping off my shirt, revealing my shredded guns and missile pods (that’s what I call abs; sometimes I like to imagine I’m a human-shaped robot and that each abdominal muscle houses a micro-missile pod.  Don’t judge!) and their moms—all of whom are sitting on some bleachers and chatting about Soccer Mom stuff—come running over; oohing, aahing, and twiddling their fingers in unrestrained joy.

“I could give a shit about your dads; what about your moms?” I ask Gerald, Fucko, and the other two goons.  “They’re about to see my rope trick.  And by ‘rope trick’ I mean I’m gonna whip out my obscenely long penis and twirl it like a lariat.”

As a round of applause erupts from the moms, my playground enemies run off crying.

Kent Wayne:  Man Child, zany sci fi author…

…and consummate Man Whore.  Get ready for the rope trick, soccer moms.  😉

*70s porn music*


Are you an innocent little tyke who wants nothing more than to keep your lunch money and run freely through the playground?  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


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