“Where to, Utopian Leader Kent?” my zero-point navigator asks.
“Take us down to the Space-Fold Museum. But first, let’s buzz by the Food Replication Plant and tissue regeneration fields. I haven’t seem them for a couple hundred years, since my last longevity treatment.” (Think that was back in 3084)
“You got it.” The navigator flips a switch on his holographic dashboard, then phases us out of quantum uncertainty into seventy percent solid matter.
As we fly by a clutch of peaceful domiciles, I sigh contentedly. Corruption is nonexistent, and our natural desire for strife and conflict has been channeled into healthy pursuits: martial arts and good-natured competition.
We explored the universe long ago. Instead of launching physical ships to plumb the depths of the space-time continuum, our technomancers have turned inward and directed their focus toward the astral realm. Lemme just say—the astral is to the physical like our oceans were to our continents. There’s way more stuff in the immaterial than in the corporeal, and it’s a lot more exciting and a helluva lot weirder.
Suddenly, our craft rocks and jerks. “What the hell?” I grab the ceiling-mounted grip. “Navigator—what’s going on?”
“I’m not sure. According to the weather forecast, we shouldn’t be encountering any turbulence…” He cranks a lever, boosting our gyros, but the ship keeps shaking.
“It’s not the weather!” I point at the cams. “Look—Grammar Nazis!”
A dozen or so Grammar Nazis jetpack down onto our gleaming wings. One of them knocks on our cockpit. “Surrender, Kent! We need rules and nitpicking! We demand the establishment of a global agency dedicated to grammarian enforcement and soul-dead essays! You’ve gone too far with this freewheeling sex-fest you call a society!”
“The hell you say!” I snarl. “Rimjobs for all, motherfucker!”
There’s no way I’ll give into these goddamned finger-waggers. So I open my eReader to Echo, activating its reality distortion powers. Magic flash.
My overly large penis leaps into action, bursting through my pants and sniffing the air like a hungry attack dog.
“Retract belt,” I command. “Open canopy.”
“Sir?” My navigator’s voice rises in alarm. “What are you doing? SIR???”
I leap onto the wing and choke the nearest Grammar Nazi with my enormous member. Another one tries to attack me from behind, but my wiener loops over his head, slides the remains of my foreskin over his face, and twists violently, snapping his neck like a dry twig.
Suddenly, my insatiable lover Soccer Mom Prime detaches from a high-speed glider and somersaults onto the opposite wing.
“Trying to kill my well-endowed boytoy? Not gonna happen, you red-ink wielding pencil-dicks!”
She kicks one in the chest, blowing the guy’s organs out through his back. Then she tears off another one’s arms—he screams and backpedals off the edge of the airship—and uses the stumps like the Ewok log-trap in Return of the Jedi, smashing a third one’s skull with a ferocious double-swing. After a few more seconds of cartoonish brutality, we stand triumphant.
“Awesome—you’ve got your dick out.” She beckons me over. “C’mere Man Whore. Let’s put that thing to good use.”
’Cause what would Utopia be without torrid sex? HEH heh heh!
Are dickless Grammar Nazis attempting to destabilize your perfect society? Never fear! 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! 🙂 🙂 😀