FIFTEEN MINUTES AGO:
I bicycle madly past the tennis courts, dressed in nothing but booty shorts and a bow tie. Tennis Moms are serving and returning 300 mile-per-hour weapons of mass destruction—little green spheres that bear the label “yonex,” “wilson,” or “penn.”
“Dogs are cuter than kids!” I yell, counting on my bike to carry me a safe distance away before they can zero in on me with their deadly fuzzy globules. “Moo hoo ha ha!” I pump my legs as fast as I can, delighting in the warm summer breeze as it rushes past my—
A tennis ball comes screaming through the air, briefly catching on fire before it cracks against my tailbone, causing everything to go numb below the waist. I tumble off my bike into a nearby bush. The Tennis Moms let loose with a series of blood-curdling war cries.
POK! Five yards to my right, a giant geyser of dirt erupts into the air.
POK! A sapling to my front breaks in half, ripped in twain by a Tennis Mom’s serve.
I’m limping away as fast as I can, but my protective cover is being chewed to pieces by a barrage of furry green orbs. I only have minutes before I’ll be completely exposed to their withering racket fire.
“WE’RE COMING FOR YOU KENT! OUR KIDS ARE GONNA USE YOUR LIVER FOR THEIR DIORAMA CENTERPIECE!”
Fuck! I only wanted to do a little bike-by trolling, but apparently that’s not in the cards for your favorite Man Child Kent Wayne! Who knew that Tennis Moms could be twice as vicious as those goddamn barbarians from “Bone Tomahawk???”
POK! ShhooooOOOOOMMMMM!!! One of their missiles misses me by mere inches; it possesses enough speed to superheat the air and cause my booty shorts to burst into flames. My sentient penis wakes from its slumber and roars in pain.
“No Lysander!” I yell (don’t pretend like I’m the only one who names their junk). “I’m trying to get us to safety—I promise!”
But it’s no use; Lysander thrashes and flails, trying to escape from the ripstop harness that keeps him wound around my thigh so he doesn’t flop by my ankle and mark my socks with pee-stains. God DAMMIT! No options left. I can’t flee from Tennis Moms and simultaneously comfort Lysander while he’s freaking the fuck out.
So I open my eReader to Echo, activating its reality distortion powers. Magic flash.
WHUPPAWHUPPAWHUPPAWHUPPA! A gucci’d out Blackhawk crests the horizon. My little buddy Bitefighter—10 lb. Terrier Extraordinaire, 83rd level Intellect, and first class snuggler—is seated at the door, manning a giant tennis ball gatling gun. He starts blasting AC/DC’s classic “Shoot to Thrill” over the Blackhawk’s speakers. At the same time, his tiny little lips peel back in a ferocious snarl as he squeezes the butterfly trigger on his gatling, blasting the Tennis Moms with a merciless storm of green fuzz.
“SHOOT TO THRILL, PLAY TO KILL…”
POK POK POK POK POK!
“TOO MANY WOMEN WITH TOO MANY PILLS…”
POK POK POK POK POK POK!
“SHOOT TO THRILL, PLAY TO KILL; I GOT MY GUN AT THE READY, GONNA FIRE AT WILL…”
He throws a quick-don harness out from the chopper, and it snaps onto my torso through the judicious employment of actuated gas cartridges. The next thing I know I’m rising through the air, flying away from the Tennis Moms, all of whom are fleeing from the unending barrage of Bitefighter’s tennis ball gatling gun. As I clear the range of their cataclysmic forehands, they shake their fists at me, voicing a series of hateful shrieks.
“DAMN YOU KENT WAYNE! DAAAAMMMMMMMNNN YOOOOUUUUUUuuuuuuu…”
Music to my ears! Ha HA! 😀
Have you accidentally pissed off a legion of Tennis Moms, those destroyers of men who can break apart armies with their margarita-fueled ferocity? 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’ve 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! Here’s the iTunes page: Logical Idiots on iTunes. 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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