Crap.  Just got hit by a bout of sleep paralysis.  All good.  Typically, the first things I can move are my eyes and my head, so I’ll focus on those.  At least I can blink.  It’s only a matter of time before—

My door creaks open.  Holy.  FUCK.  This is my worst nightmare!  Whoever that is could do anything they want while I’m—

A familiar voice telepathically projects:  [How ya doing, you communist pussy?]

[Uh…Chuck Norris?]  My brow wrinkles in confusion.

[In the flesh!]  He steps through the door, clad in eighties-style denim—jeans topped by a sleeveless vest—and puts his fists on his hips.

[What are you doing here?] I blurt.

[Despite yer nancy-boy refusal to strip butt-nekkid and pump out countless sets of American bicep curls, I decided to give you a little blessing!  I’m the patron saint of manliness, after all.]

[No thanks.] I reply quickly.  [This is kind of creepy, you know?  If you want to help me out, maybe you could undo this sleep paralysis and—]

[Nonsense!] he barks.  [Gonna give you a pube transplant!  The pansies in yer generation are shunning the glory of a hip-to-hip bush!]

[Thanks but no.  My sack is pretty cheesy; it doesn’t need any extra—]

[Shut yer cum-catcher!]  He yanks off my pants, reaches into his crotch, and rips off a fistful of scraggly-ass pubes.  Before I can protest, he dumps them on my wiener, and they quickly worm their way into my dick-root and balls.  [There ya go!  Mission accomplished!]  He roundhouse-kicks his way out of my bedroom, humming the A-team theme at the top of his lungs.

I try and get up, but I’m still paralyzed, so I close my eyes and go back to sleep.

SEVERAL HOURS LATER…

What the shit?  Was that a dream?  Just to be sure, I pull the lip of my undies so I can see what’s up.  My sight resolves and I gasp in shock. 

What.  The FUCK.  I’m coated in a set of Norris-red hair!  And I feel…energized? 

Yep, it’s undeniable.  My desire to work out nekkid in front of a full length mirror is nigh unbearable.  But first, I gotta get the poison out, so I jerk my womb hammer, seizing and spasming as I blow a load.  I’m about to enjoy my post-nut daze, when I realize I’m not jizzing sperm—I’m cumming FULLY FORMED PEOPLE!  Chuck’s pubes made me super potent!

Well, “fully formed” might be a stretch.  I’ve ejected dozens of mini-mes about a foot and a half tall.  They’re galloping around on all fours, snarling and biting anything in reach.  (proud to say they have nine-inch wieners).  I reach under my mattress, pull out my 9 mil, and start blasting away at the tiny-ass Kents.  These spastic fuckholes make Taz from Looney Tunes look chill and relaxed.  Click.  Emptied the clip.  That should do it, now I’ll clean up and—

Holy SHIT!  They’re still alive!

“ROGGLE BOGGLE YIB-YOB!  ARGLE-BARGLE-GLOP-GLYF!”  The Kents run around with frenetic abandon, dry humping everything and tearing into furniture.  If I don’t act fast, they’re gonna level every condo in this goddamn building.

So I open my eReader to a Kent Wayne novel, activating its reality distortion powers.  Magic flash. 

Holographic panes materialize in the air, all cued to different scenes from My Friends Hot Mom dot com.  If this were a movie, there’d be a third-person, 360 degree pan from within the storm of rabid mini-Kents, catching glimpses of their dumbfounded expressions as the finest milf porn in all the land transfixes their attention.  At first, they acted like a cross between Minions and Gremlins, but now they’re more like hypnotized zombies, drooling and gawking at the panoply of ladies who are getting their eggs vigorously scrambled.

I breathe a sigh of relief.  These goddamn mini-Kents are threat to humanity.  Still, that’s some damn good porn…

Might as well jerk it again.  HEH heh heh!

😀

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