Hello everybody! My name is Bizz-Buzz. I’m a newly hatched fly, and seeing as I have about 28 days to live, I’m gonna do my best to see as much as I can. For some reason people hate me, even though all I do is lounge on the wall and buzz across the room. Whatever. Off we go!
Bzzzz…..hmmm, judging from the long hallways and multiple classrooms, I think I’m in a college. I look closer at peoples’ expressions, noting the hormone-driven excitement which will eventually turn into bitter hatred as faceless corporate employers repeatedly ravage their mental anuses…yep—definitely a college. I fly into an English professor’s room and my multifaceted eyes widen in shock: there’s a balding, chinless dude who’s slathered his entire body in red ink, jerking off to a book about grammar.
I buzz away, down the hall, and into a business professor’s room. Class is currently in session. I see the professor hunch over a desk, twiddle her fingers, and mutter “Eeexcellent,” just like Mr. Burns. Rows of students follow suit, hunching over and voicing evil-sounding “Eeexcellent”s.
Next is an art class, where students have stripped to their underwear and are hugging a naked Gary Busey who’s on all fours, covered in layers of molten chocolate. Gary turns to me and grins. “Come and join us, little fly.”
I fly off in utter disgust. What the hell is wrong with this world??? Does it seek to drive its occupants insane with banality and horror? My tiny mind begins unraveling, veering towards insanity. Maybe I should fashion a little suit and tie for my chitinous thorax, climb the ranks of some nameless insect hive where I get to boss around dozens of drones in a meaningless display of insectile significance…
And then I’m in the gym, watching some yoked-ass Man Child named Kent Wayne (he’s dressed in booty shorts and a bow tie) working a series of heavy squats. He racks his weight, and is promptly accosted by Gym Bros, who start shoving his chest and accusing him of sleeping with their moms. He points over their shoulders and yells “LOOK! A CARB!” To which they duck down and squeal, covering their faces with their hands. Kent Wayne takes off running and the Gym Bros give chase. I follow along, intrigued by this half-ape Man Child and his simian ways.
The Gym Bros corner him in an alley. He reaches into his booty shorts, whips out an eReader, and opens it to Echo, activating its reality distortion powers. Magic flash.
Light-woven armor begin sectioning across Kent. Diodes and cables twine with translucent readouts which network into place over a cool-ass expanse of hard-light plating. My proboscis drops in awe.
The Man Child stands tall, fully ensconced in a photonic war-suit, ready to kick some fucking ass.
The Gym Bros start swinging at him and he blocks their pitiful attacks with a series of blurry counters, eliciting a lightsaber-hum every time he moves. Then he uses some kind of telekinetic tractor beam to wedgie the Bros’ shorts well above their heads and over their eyes. They scream in pain and fury, clutching at their newly formed underwear eye-masks, which I’m sad to say are replete with skid marks.
I fly away, my faith in existence restored. That was AWESOME!
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