I’ve built corporate empires, destroyed third-world nations both overtly and covertly, and ordered the assassination of countless whistleblowers and good-hearted activists.
That’s right. I’m the trillionaire mogul you’ve never heard of: Thatcher Van Aldershire.
I’m currently on vacation (when am I not, is the question?) at an unnamed island with my fellow Bilderbergers. The caviar is fresh, the coke is plentiful. Every night, an hour after sundown, we sacrifice fresh virgins to the Owl God Moloch. Sometimes it’s one, most times it’s twenty. Par for the course when you’re a deviant trillionaire.
After brunch (where we feasted on infant brains and human bacon), we discussed our newest project: thwarting the indie author known as Kent Wayne. Somehow, this Soccer Mom-obsessed imbecile has seen through the veil of First World tedium (probably got lucky with a massive dose of mushrooms, yet another reason to keep them illegal) and started writing books about fulfillment and meaning. This cannot stand. He must be silenced before the unwashed masses storm our castles with pitchforks and bludgeons.
Accordingly, we’ve gathered together in our Magisterium Maleficium (a chamber built for masked orgies and unholy magic) to perform a ritual that will bend space and wrinkle time, and bring Kent directly to us.
“AGH NAMUN RA—HETAKI NORI-DE, MOLOCH SHA BIN-TAH!” Our Dark Cleric screams the last words of the incantation, causing a blazing portal to open within our chalk-circle pentagram. Every one of us—arranged evenly around the perimeter—hold our breath in anticipation. The portal brightens, threatening to shred our sanity with brief glimpses of the Unknowable Beyond, then—
The portal’s gone. In its place is a befuddled moron, or as you know him: Kent Wayne.
“SEIZE HIM!” Our Cleric points with a long-nailed finger. Mercenaries rush him from all sides. Kent looks bewildered, then his gaze steels over.
“Knew this was coming. I came prepared, bitches.” He reaches in his pocket and opens his eReader to Echo, activating its reality distortion powers. Magic flash.
My vision clears a moment later. Kent is on his knees, maowing down plate after plate of spicy sausage, materialized before him courtesy of his eReader. His eyes bug and his cheeks bulge as disgusting nom-noises fly from his mouth.
“NO!” I cry. “SHOOT HIM BEFORE HE—”
The spicy sausages have done their work. Kent’s asshole dilates wide; an ominous rumble quakes the air. Everyone runs, trying to escape his gastronomic payload. Too late. A tsunami of Gross pours out his backside, propelling him through the roof of our evil hideout while swamping the room with fecal death.
Damn you Kent Wayne! We almost had you! We almost—
Have you been kidnapped by an evil-ass cadre of baby-eating trillionaires? 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! 🙂 🙂 😀
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