What the…why am I naked in an African savanna?

I rub my eyes, blinking in confusion and clearing them of gunk.  The last thing I remember was chilling at home, getting ready to do some wiener/lariat tricks for my Only Fans soccer mom viewers…

“Quick!”  Elon pokes out from behind a tree, levels a rifle, and shoots a tranquilizer round.  “We can’t fight him if it’s at full fucking strength!”

The round pierces my wiener under the glans.  It rears up and screams in anger, but Bezos and Gates pop out from adjacent trees and fire two more rounds into the shaft.

“I’m sorry, Kent,” my wiener murmurs.  “They got the jump on me.  Sneaky bastards…”  Then he goes limp and falls asleep. 

Three more rounds zip past my head.  Gotta beat feet, or these guys are gonna catch me!

As I take off running, Wiener’s unconscious head bounces and drags across the ground.  Under normal circumstances, I’d wind him around my thigh and tuck him into my sock, but that isn’t an option here ’cause I’m buck fucking naked.  So I reach down and sling him over my shoulder, smacking him off my tailbone as I sprint like a bat out of hell.

“WHAT THE HELL?” I scream.  “WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?”

Bezos shouts, “You think you can live a carefree life, where you live off tips from soccer moms and have all the sex you want?”

“That’s a no from me, dawg!” Elon yells.  “You need to be assimilated into our rat-wheel paradigm!”

“Bow before the Angry Inch!” Bill Gates bellows.

The Angry Inch?  The fuck is THAT?  A quick look back answers my question; they’re wearing shirts with THE ANGRY INCH emblazoned on the front.  The font is accompanied by a thumb and a forefinger held a millimeter apart.

“You’re hunting me down because of your infinitesimally small penises?” I blurt.  Tallgrass and trees blur past my sides.

“Damn straight!”  Elon click-clacks his rifle and chambers another round.  “Wouldn’t be where we are without our micropenis energy!  Now it’s time to claim our vengeance!”

I hurdle a log and pick up the pace.  “By arranging some bullshit, ‘The Most Dangerous Game’ style hunt?  Why don’t you volunteer in a goddamn soup kitchen, or maybe invest in some community youth centers?”

“I’m too full of rage!” Bezos screams.  “The only way I can sleep is exhausting myself on a Kent Wayne-shaped punching bag, then masturbating with a pair of foam-coated tweezers!  Do you have any idea how difficult it is to fuck with a clit-sized dick???  Half the time, I end up crying and scissoring!”

I’m screwed unless—wait, what the fuck?  My eReader catches my eye; about a dozen yards in front of me, wedged in the nook of a twenty-foot tree.  Don’t know how it got there, don’t fucking care. 

I run up to the tree, reach out and snag it, then open it to a Kent Wayne novel, activating its mind-bending reality distortion powers.  Magic flash.

A streak of color zips down from the sky, marking the air with a blurry diagonal.  It cuts right through Bill Gates’s fragile torso—for a split-second, his nerdy-ass eyes go wide with surprise—exploding him into a particulate mist, before resolving into a blood-coated Martha Stewart.  She’s crouching on the ground with one knee up, one fist down, eyes lowered.  As she slowly rises to her feet, she regards Elon and Bezos with a deadpan gaze. 

“Run.”

“FUCK YOU!”  Bezos unholsters a big-ass magnum.

She zips forward, seizes his wrist, and breaks it in three different places with neat, vicious twists.  Elon reaches for his pistol, but she grabs Bezos’s magnum, swings around, and chucks it at the attention-whore wannabe edge-lord.  Its barrel rockets into his eye, destroying his brain and causing him to drop to his knees, then fall onto his side with a stupefied expression.

“Now you.”  She turns back to Bezos.  “You thought you could hunt down my fuckpig man whore?  Think again, clit-dick.”

She spins him around, tosses him in the air, and throws a Ryu-worthy uppercut into his anus, bisecting his body into two bloody halves.  As she lands on the ground, his desecrated carcass slops onto the grass. 

“What the hell?” I gasp.  “How did you…”

“Learned it in prison.  Trick is to start at their butthole.”  She eyes me up and down.  “Completely naked, like God intended.  Now let’s see if we can wake up that wiener.”

I quiver in fear as Martha approaches.  She just murdered a trio of billionaires.

But then again, I am a Man Whore.  Kent Wayne wins again!  HEH heh heh!

😀

Have you been kidnapped by micropenised deviants, then set loose as prey in the unforgiving wild?  Never fear!  Buy my books, summon a prison-trained Martha, and destroy your enemies with cartoonish violence!

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