Someone stole my car yesterday (true story).  Want to know what happened after that?

Pause.  Rewind.  ZZZZEEOooooooZWOOP!  (That’s the best rewind noise I can write right now–keep yer gripes to yerself!)

 

As I wander the streets of downtown Oakland over and over for hours on end, trying to convince myself I’d parked it somewhere I can’t remember, I curse the fates for what’s occurred.

Some people give me an odd look, but most leave me be and continue talking about the latest meaningless trend or on their cell phone.  They’re all starting to look like soulless puppets—empty laughter, cloying grins, and gaudy technology.  Nothing seems real.

I just want to go home.

Eventually, after my aching back and screaming knees force me to sit, I sit down and stare blankly into the distance.  What the fuck, man.  I’m not a crier—when something shitty happens I just stare off at nothing.  Time slows to a crawl; the only thing that exists is a heavy, insistent dread, relentlessly unfurling through my mind and my body.  It possesses a voice—it keeps whispering to me that this will never end, that something worse will happen and I’m going to get fucked even harder.

I click open my cell phone and morosely look at its glowing surface.  A bunch of cheery, bullshit notifications…what else is new.  Typically I’d just ignore them, but right now, given the situation, they seem like pointed taunts.  Like someone is fucking with me intentionally.

Then the phone screen fritzes and changes.  Blue lightning arcs across its molded contours, hissing and spitting.  I immediately drop it and scuttle back on my hands and feet.

Jesus!  What kind of fucked up design flaw has Apple ordered their third-world enforcers to inject into their newest batch of smartpho—

It’s no design flaw.  The screen resolves into a crystal-clear picture of Grammar Nazi Prime.

“HO HO HO!”  His chinless face smiles widely up from the LCD display.  “HEE hee hee!”

“The fuck?” I whisper.  Then, in a louder voice.  “YOU!”

“Me.”  His spectacles flash with reflected light, then his narrow, dickless pupils shine through their centers (yep, I know that pupils don’t have dicks, but come on—it enhances the flow of the sentence, it’s fun to say, and…and…DON’T LOOK AT ME!  KEEP READING!!!)  “You really fucked the pooch on this one, Kent.  Making fun of my deformed genitals and dry, pedantic essays…you really thought I’d let you get away with it?”

“So you stole my car?”  My eyebrows raise.  “What kind of—”

“Not just your car.”  He smirks.  “Your entire identity.  Everything tied to you.  Social Security number, online profiles, deeds and records…you’re mine, Kent.  And unless you work for me making grammatical corrections on my students’ papers, I’m going to steal your anal virginity as well.”

“The fuck you say,” I hiss.  “There’s no way—no way in hell.”

“It’s not a choice.”  He examines his nails like a cut-rate Bond villain.  “Not at this point.”

“There’s ALWAYS a choice,” I snap.

And then I open my eReader to Musings, Volume 1, activating its reality distortion powers.  Magic flash.

My penis twitches and trembles…then bursts through my pants in a roaring column of thick, veiny cock-flesh.  I throw my arms back like Highlander McLeod after he’s cut off a head, roaring in a defiant mix of triumph and fury.  The emergence of my cock is so damn forceful that my hair blows back, fluttering and whipping like a storm-tossed flag.

“RUAAAAAAHHH!!!”

“No—NO!”  Grammar Nazi Prime’s face turns sick with fear. 

And then, in a terrified, awestruck whisper:  “The Cock of Legend.”

“WE WILL COME FOR YOU!” the Cock of Legend roars from a hundred feet up, its glans shadowed by the star-canvassed sky.  “WE WILL FIND YOU, AND WE WILL STRANGLE THE LIFE FROM YOUR BONES!”

The phone clicks off, but before it does, I see fearful tears pouring down from my enemy’s cheeks.

The Cock of Legend begins worming across the city, with me attached to the end of its hundred foot body, a lot like a rattler on the end of a rattle-snake.  I’m not complaining, it’s a goddamn honor to be fused to the Cock of Legend, and it’ll feel good as fuck when we drown Grammar Nazi Prime in foreskin and smegma.

The Cock of Legend is coming for you, you acorn-dicked nerd.

😀

 

Has your enemy tried to fuck you with Batman-like precision, and you now need to set that asshole straight?  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  Musings, Volume 1 is available here:  Musings, Volume 1  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!  😲💪 😜