As the wind ruffles my shoulder-length hair, I place a booted foot on the prow of my ship, casting my eagle-eyed gaze across the swells. My fiance—Irma Horfendorf—clings to my chest, which is open and exposed, due to the fact that I’ve undone most of the buttons to expose my hard, muscle-cabled man-titties.
“Oh Kent!” Irma cries. “When will you swear off the life of a privateer, so that we may settle in the countryside and raise apple-cheeked children?”
I stroke Irma’s hair and kiss the side of her head. “In time, my dear—in time. My pendulous testicles tell me that there are chests of booty I have yet to claim, as well as enemy vessels that richly deserve the wrath of my broadsides. Kent Wayne, swashbuckler extraordinaire, still has a few buckles left to swash.”
Irma grabs both my cheeks and turns my head, forcing me to meet her teary-eyed gaze. “MY buckle needs swashing, Kent! It’s been over a fortnight since I’ve procured a fresh diamond! You KNOW I need them to repair my jewel-forged dildo; it’s the only way I can orgasm without your prodigious member!”
I brush her hands irritably away. “Irma—you do realize that diamonds possess little to no inherent worth; their price is derived from greedy propaganda that takes advantage of societal programming. Though they ostensibly embody the spirit of love, the means by which they’re garnered is anything BUT loving. Even the ones that are supposedly clean are refined in a manner that ruin countless lives under miserable working condi—”
“Nonsense!” she hisses, slapping me twice across the face. “NONSENSE!” She grabs me around the throat and starts to strangle the fuck out of me. “I’m gonna CHOKE my diamonds out of you, bitch—GIMME GIMME GIMME!”
“Kkkkk….please!” I gasp. “You’re hurting me!”
Her eyes turn red, and double-toned bass booms through her voice: “I’VE WAITED LONG ENOUGH, KENT! YOU WILL SLAVE AWAY IN AN OFFICE, AND PROVIDE ME WITH HIGH-END DESIGNER BAGS WHICH ELICIT ENVIOUS GABBLE FROM MY LIKE-MINDED FRIENDS! ENOUGH OF YOUR IDIOTIC ATTEMPTS TO BECOME A WRITER/PIRATE/NINJA/JEDI!” The skin oozes off her cheeks, and in a matter of seconds I find myself staring at a hideous Insectoid.
“KKKKKK….” The last of my breath whispers past my lips, and black walls begin shrinking my sight. I clutch her talons with numbed fingers, trying to pry them off, but she’s too damn strong…soon, she’ll insert her proboscis into my mouth, and replace my guts with mind-control larvae; over the coming years, I’ll become a dad-bodded middle-manager, forced to wear a Joker-like smile to cover the fact that in the depths of my soul, I’ll feel like I’m being forcibly sodomized by a barbed fire hydrant.
So I reach into my pocket and open my eReader to Echo, activating its reality distortion powers. Magic flash.
A fat bolt of lightning crashes down from the sky, encasing my form in vibrating shimmer. My hair stands on end as I levitate off the ground. I clutch the air with both hands, throwing my head back as I let loose with a primal scream:
Fresh muscle ripple across me, cabling my body with striated sinew. My brow protrudes a few inches forward as thick, bony growth enlarges my skull. Coarse hair sprouts across my frame, engulfing me in a coat of man-fur. In a matter of seconds, I’ve morphed into my true form: Kent Wayne, Interdimensional Ape-genius Extraordinaire. I’m dressed in a tight black shirt with tactical suspenders, ripstop cargo pants, utility belt that’s kitted out with knick-knacks including a holstered setential logic pistol, as well as a clean-burn jetpack.
“FUCKER! WORM!” Irma starts toward me but I quick-draw my logic pistol, holding it at the waist like a hairy Wyatt Earp.
“Easy, now. Wouldn’t want me to unleash some common sense on you, would you Irma?”
She backs away, hissing and spitting. “You’ll pay for this, Wayne—you hear me? YOU’LL PAY FOR THIS!!!”
“Doubtful.” I twirl the pistol, snap it back into its holster, and don the aviation goggles strapped across my forehead. “I always knew you were fake—ain’t no ladies named ‘Irma’ that are down for hot and nasty butt-sex; I saw right through your lying ass.”
Semi-sentient circuitry emerges from the jetpack and crawls down my arms, forming push-button triggers in the center of my palms. I press their holographic tips and my jetpack ignites. A steady VMMMMMM fills the air.
I give her one last look. “Fuck diamonds. Man-apes forever.”
PKKKKKKEEEEEWWWWW!!!! Sun-glazed blue reflects off my goggles as I take to the sky. Hundreds of feet below, Irma shakes her claws at me.
“DAMN YOU KENT WAYNE! DAMN YOOOOUUUUUuuuuuuu….”
Ha HA! The adventures of Kent Wayne—sci-fi author and man-ape adventurer—continue!
Has your ex shown their hand, and revealed themselves to be a malicious Insectoid? 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
Hold on! I just got approved to be an Amazon affiliate! If you’re going to buy ANY product from Amazon, and you’d like to support my efforts for absolutely free, then simply click on one of the Echo links I’ve provided—they’ll send you to Echo’s Amazon page—and THEN buy whatever product you wish. Amazon gives me a small referral fee each time this happens! In this manner you can support my books, musings, upcoming podcast, zany ads, or my adventures along the noble path known as The Way of The Man Child WITHOUT spending any more money than you were already going to! Should you do this, I vow to send you a silent blessing, causing your genitals to adopt the optimum size, shape, smell, and death-ray attachment of choice that paralyzes your enemies with fear and envy! Entire worlds will bow before your nether parts! 😲💪 😜
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