This is it; my freedom rests on my closing argument. I’ve gained no traction with the jurors through this hellish proceeding, and now I’m using every oratory trick in the book to try and convince these courtroom fascists that I should go free. You guessed it; I’m on trial for not hewing to the standards of grammar.
“—and so despite the call for order and clarity, I beseech all of you to look beyond the shackles of doctrine, and see through to a greater purpose. We weren’t meant to use dust-thickened rulebooks to bind our imaginations under lock and key; no, good sirs and madams, we were meant to use that knowledge as a metaphorical springboard with which to attain greater heights. Ultimately, we must let these stale structures crumble in the river of time, so they do not weigh us down with their poisonous decrees. They are an unnecessary—nay, fatal—burden when we make our attempt to soar ever higher, striving to gain the breadth of possibility upon our winged minds.”
I look from face to face, and see that I’ve convinced none of them. Fuck this. Time to go out in a blaze of glory.
I whip out my hog and slam it down before the jurors. Tha-KUNK! “Whadda ya think of THIS? Can’t argue with this gorgeous slab of cock-meat, can you, you traitorous cretins???”
The men scream and avert their eyes, while the women try to maintain appearances by screaming along with the men, but their greedy gazes and drool-limned mouths belie their supposed horror. The judge begins banging her gavel, yelling raucously over the pandemonium-filled courtroom.
“ORDER IN THE COURT! ORDER IN THE COURT! KENT WAYNE—PUT AWAY THAT DELICIOUS-LOOKING PENIS! BAILIFFS!”
I’m escorted away by a pair of goons. As they hook my arms and drag me toward the back entrance, my penis drags and flops across the floor. “I’LL NEVER BE A GRAMMAR NAZI!” I scream. “YOU’LL HAVE TO KILL ME, YOU HEAR? YOU WANT MY BLOOD? TAKE IT!”
That was fifteen years ago.
After reading the Shawshank Redemption countless times over (one of the few stories where both the movie and the book were just as good) I took inspiration from it and decided to start tunneling my way out of here. It wasn’t hard; I put up a poster of a balding Grammar Nazi in high-waisted pants on the east wall of my cell, then continued requesting red ink pens. I used the poster to conceal the entrance to my tunnel, while I used the pens to make slow and steady progress through the prison’s foundation. (If there are two things Grammar Nazis are eager to issue, it’s posters of nerds and red ink pens). In addition to all that, I’ve seduced one of the female shift leaders and managed to steal her eReader, which is loaded with Echo. It won’t be long before she finds out, so I have to get the hell out of here post freakin’ haste.
Today, according to my calculations, I’ll have dug several yards under a nearby forest. Once I emerge, I’ll be able to use the trees for cover and make my escape.
“RUAAAAAAHH!!” I poke through the ground, and cough violently as small bits of dirt fly into my mouth. After a quick muscle-up, I find myself staring at a copse of trees. Freedom!
As I make my way through miles of woods, floodlights sweep the ground. My stomach drops as I hear the chop of rotors.
“KNEEL, KENT! INTERLACE YOUR HANDS BEHIND YOUR HEAD!”
SHIT! These micro-peened fuckers have found me already! Only one option left. I reach into my pocket and open my eReader to Echo, activating its reality distortion powers. Magic flash.
My dickhead begins glowing through my pants. I unzip my fly with shaking, awestruck hands, and lift my bowling ball sized glans up to eye level, so that I’m looking directly into them.
“Use me, Kent, ” my pee-slit intones in a deep, noble voice. “I am your chosen weapon against the forces of tyranny.”
If this were a movie, here’s where you’d hear that wondrous destiny music they like to play right before the hero first taps his powers. Just like those heroes, my eyes go from wide and dazed to focused and resolute. I spin in place, holding my peen at the base like a giant discus—
—and let it fly. It arcs dozens of yards into the air, smashing through three attack choppers with a single swing. Fire and smoke dot the sky, and a wave of heat-shimmered air roils across my face, forcing me to shade my eyes with a raised forearm. Another twist of my hips mows down another six choppers. I hear more in the distance, but right now, I’m free to run.
Then I think better of it: why run when you can swing from tree to tree on a giant, prehensile dong? Hi-yo freakin’ silver! 😀
Have you been sentenced to a horrible existence within a Grammar-worshipping prison? 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 I’m starting a podcast: Logical Idiots! If you want to check out the trailer, see it here: Logical Idiots Trailer and help two complete morons out by subscribing, liking, and commenting! Also, my buddy Jumar Balacy has made a supercool microsite at kentwaynebrain.com! Go check out his computer-based wizardry 🙂 🙂 😀
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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