Wiener peeks up at me from the waistband of my shorts. By the worried wrinkles along his frenulum, I can tell that he’s scared shitless.
“Don’t let me down, Kent—I’ve waited my entire life for this moment. We’re all counting on you—all us tube steaks and upcurves. Even the micro-peens!”
“Don’t worry.” I reach down and give him a reassuring pat. “We’ll get this amendment passed.”
“Mr. Wayne?” The judge raises a snowy haired eyebrow. “Would you like to plead your case?”
“Rhhhrrm.” I clear my throat and rise from the bench. “Thank you, your Honor.” I stroll back and forth before the jury box, my brow furrowed in thought. Finally, I stop pacing and meet their eyes.
“I’m assuming that each and every one of you has someone you would consider a ‘best friend’—someone you’d trust beyond a shadow of a doubt.”
A series of nods.
“Perhaps it isn’t human. Perhaps it’s a dog or a cat, or even imaginary. Now say your best friend was a working class citizen: responsible for paying taxes, following the law…even a member of the neighborhood watch. Wouldn’t you say that this friend—whoever he or she is—deserves the right to vote, the right to bear arms, and the right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness? Wouldn’t you—”
“OBJECTION, YOUR HONOR!” Herman Snerdbert, High Level Corporate Guy, my lifelong archnemesis, and Professional Eunuch, rises from the opposition’s bench. “HE’S TALKING ABOUT HIS DICK!”
“Mine can speak, Heman,” I snarl. “It’s already unified general relativity and quantum physics, which is a hell of a lot more than your booger-picking son has—”
“Objection sustained,” the judge says tiredly. “New course of argument, Mr. Wayne.”
I open my mouth, at a loss for words. Then Wiener jumps the gun; he bursts from my pants and slaps noisily back and forth between my kneecaps.
“YOU WANT MY BLOOD????” he roars. “COME AND TAKE IT, YOU FASCIST BASTARDS!”
Pandemonium erupts throughout the gallery; people leap up and yell like this was a bare-knuckle boxing match at a smelly, beer-stained Victorian-era pub. The judge slams her gavel against her sound block, but the piercing claps are lost in the chaos.
“ORDER IN THE COURT!” she screams. “ORDER IN THE FUCKING COURT! BAILIFFS! TAKE THIS MAN AWAY! BEHEAD HIS PENIS AT HIGH NOON!”
“No!” I look back and forth in panic, my eyes widening. “NO!”
And then I open my eReader to Echo, activating its reality distortion powers. Magic flash.
A gaggle of soccer moms burst into the courtroom, instantly quieting the clamoring masses. Hushed, confused whispers ripple through the ranks.
As they stride forward, I recognize them all as my past lovers, all of whom have cum buckets whilst riding with abandon atop my upcurved friend. Their leader, Alyssa, looks steadily back and forth, sweeping the audience with her gaze as she takes her place before the judge.
“This man’s wiener is a national treasure.”
Out of nowhere, the soul-stirring strains of a professional orchestra accompany her words. I can’t place the melody, but it’s undeniably patriotic.
“Not only is it a master of Science, prestidigitation, and Jeet Kune Do…it also comforts me and my friends in our time of need, when we’re heartily sick of small-dicked beta-males and the twisted sea of cocks that have come to infest the modern-day dating pool.”
The music rises, building to a crescendo.
“This kangaroo court is a goddamn disgrace. You all know better—as Kent just said: what if it was YOUR hyper-intelligent, unquestionably sentient friend who was in danger of losing their beautiful, mushroom-tipped head?”
Within the jury box and throughout the gallery, doubtful looks give way to steady nods. I wipe a tear from my eye as she pauses for effect. I can’t help it; she’s a goddamn pro.
“So I ask you, fellow citizens, to cast aside your hate. To cast aside your rancorous tribalism, and your bitter spite. I ask you to open your eyes, and acknowledge the SWEETNESS OF THIS MAN’S DICK!”
The entire courtroom breaks out in raucous applause. The judge snuffles quietly, wiping at her eyes with a handful of gown. People surge around me and lift me onto their shoulders.
“UPCURVE FOREVER! UPCURVE FOREVER!” They carry me out onto the streets, chanting and shouting in joyful triumph. I’m weeping freely, and so is Wiener.
GodDAMN is it good to have a thick, upcurved piece!
Are you engaged in a harrowing civil rights trial, one that puts your very genitals in harm’s way? 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 Vol.4 on Kindle here: Vol. 4 on Kindle Echo Omnibus here: Echo Omnibus Echo Vol. 1 & 2 Combined Edition here: Combined Edition If you wanna hear me babble on about anything and everything, and strain my FREAKIN’ BRAIN, then here’s a link to my podcast: Strained Brains! It is on iTunes, Stitcher, Spotify, and Google Play! Please give it a listen and a five-star review! Here’s the miscellaneous gear that I use to try and become an uber-human: Optimization, and last but not least, 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, 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! 😲💪 😜