Captain Decker yells, “Direct all power into reverse thrusters!” Our pilots click away at their holo-displays, funneling every last ounce of our ship’s muscle into backing away from the hungry black hole.
As we come to a screeching halt, Decker orders, “Do. Not. MOVE.” On the front-screen displays, our thrusters glow with lucent blue light, pouring everything they have into preventing us from getting sucked in and spaghettified.
“Okay…good. Now. Everyone walk toward the back of the ship. SLOWLY.”
Our chief physicist, Leia Somatic, blurts, “Do you seriously think you’re going to alter our mass by standing in the back of the ship? Are you fucking INSANE?”
“DO IT!” he barks. “NOW! I’ll think of something else in a couple of minutes!”
The crew starts murmuring. But none of them have any viable options, so we all get up and walk toward the back of the ship.
Once we’re all clustered together, Decker holds out his hands in a placating gesture, one that says, Don’t get crazy. “All right, let’s start with a systems check. Anything that doesn’t need to be on, turn it off, and give our reversal a little more oomph.”
“Now you’re making sense,” Leia mutters.
He shoots her a warning look. “I noticed on my panel that someone had milf porn up on their holo. Whoever that was…”
SHIT. A drop of sweat beads on my temple. I try and throttle down my milf-brained mind, but it’s way too late. I’m already thinking about the slurpy-slurp-slurp, along with some mac-n-cheese noises followed by the inevitable slappy-slap-slap of my hips against—
“KENT!” Decker throws a disgusted look at my bulging crotch. “Good God man, we’re trying to figure out how to survive a black hole! Save it for another time, you fucking degene—”
Suddenly, the ship lurches forward with an ominous creak.
“Was that…” Leia Somatic looks from side to side in guarded horror. “Surely not.”
More blood pools in the head of my semi, causing the ship to lurch forward a couple more millimeters.
“That’s impossible!” Leia shouts. “That’s not even PHYSICS!”
Decker looks from her to me, suddenly realizing that my bulging crotch is pulling us toward space-time oblivion. “Stop, Kent—STOP NOW!”
“I can’t!” I squeal. “My brain is on autopilot—too many milfs, too many boobies! Also, I’m fucking huge—my dick is like a baby’s arm holding a fuji apple, offering it up to the goddamn heavens!”
“Kill it!” He points at my wiener. “KILL IT WITH FIRE!”
Fuck it. No options left. As the First Engineer runs for the armory, I reach in my pocket and open my eReader to a Kent Wayne novel, activating its mind-bending reality distortion powers. Magic flash.
My diamond-worshipping ex, Irma Horfendorff, manifests in front of me and grabs my crotch. “Heard you need to shrink this down.” She grins. “I know just the thing. My Karen energies are gonna turn it into a thimble-sized dick.”
“Wait, hold on, take it slo—HRRRGHHHAAAAAAAAGGHHH!!!” Before I can stop her, my wiener shrinks down to the size of an acorn. I drop to my knees, gasping and heaving, as she dematerializes with a demonic-ass laugh.
“She did it!” Leia Somatic gapes at the monitor as our ship backs free of the event horizon.
“Not…worth it,” I moan.
“Don’t you worry.” She kneels down beside me and gives my wiener a possessive tap. “Gonna have that thing back up to snuff in no time.”
Kent Wayne wins again…I think?
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Dirty Sci-Fi Buddha 