Wonder Woman taps a line of coke onto my wiener, snorfs it up, and yells, “Ah said GYATT DAMN!!!”  Lois Lane shoves her aside and taps a fresh line of snow onto the Widener (don’t judge—we all have a nickname for it). 

“WHOO!!!”  She drums my bare ass—pitta-pitta-PAP!  “BEST.  MAN WHORE.  EVERRRR!!!!” 

I grin at them both, do a little shake-a-shake-shake with the back end and front end (the simultaneous booty/wiener shake is always a hit) then—

Superman busts in the room.  “Diana?  LOIS???  He levels a quivering finger at me.  “You are FUCKING DEAD!”

Wonder Woman throws her lasso, binding him in coils of Themysciran magic.  “Whoa there!  We paid good money for this girthy piece of dick!  There’s no goddamn way you’re ruining our girls’ night out!”

“I demand trial by combat!” he rages.  His eyes glow red as he lasers in on me.  “Get ready to be torn limb from limb, you homewrecking shit!”

“I can’t fight you!” I protest.  “I don’t have superpowers!  How about trial by fucking?  Whoever satisfies a lady the most can—”

“THAT’S RIDICULOUS!” he screams. 

“Why is that ridiculous?”  Lois puts her hands on her hips. 

“Well…” Superman falters.  “You know I’m a good size, but—”

“Right,” Lois snorts.  She makes quote marks with her fingers.  “ ‘A good size.’  Nice one, Clark.” 

Wonder Woman stifles a laugh.  It comes out as a snort.

His eyes flare crimson as he swivels toward me.  “I am gonna—”

“Whoa!”  I raise both hands.  “How about a literal pissing contest?  I mean, that’s what we’re talking about here, right?  In the metaphorical sense, anyway.”

His eyes downshift to a sullen red glow.  “Fine.”

MINUTES LATER, BOTH OF US ARE STANDING IN FRONT OF A PAIR OF URINALS…

Psshhh…got a steady stream going…think I have a good chance at winning this…

He peeks at my wiener, shakes his head in fist-clenching fury, and looks determinedly down at his inadequate peen.  “I will NOT lose to you.  You hear me??  NEVER.” 

Pshhhhh!

“Shut up and piss.”  I grit my teeth and focus on my wiener. 

PSSHH.

Pretty soon, we’re both hitting the home stretch.  PSHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

As the last drops plink onto the porcelain, horror dawns across my face—I’m not gonna make it.  He’s going to win. 

Plip plip…plip…

“HA!”  Superman flicks his unimpressive penis back into his tights, and jabs a triumphant finger at my face.  “FUCK YOU, ASSHOLE!  GET READY TO MEET YOUR MOTHERFUCKING MAKER!”

Holy FUCK.  There is no goddamn WAY I can fight off a buck-nuts Kryptonian.  So I open my eReader to a Kent Wayne novel, activating its mind-bending reality distortion powers.  Magic flash. 

Something rockets down through the ceiling.  Through the debris and particulate haze, I glimpse Martha Stewart kneeling on Superman. 

“You thought you could fuck with my favorite Man Whore?”  An evil chuckle.  “Nah bitch—he’s Dark Martha’s property.”  Her fingers tighten around his throat.

“How…how are you…HKKKK…”  His words fade into an agonized wheeze.

“People forget—I got convicted for insider trading and spent time in the big house.  You think I’m gonna focus on bitch-ass therapy?”  She chuckles again.  “I meditated on every way to kill and maim, while merging with entities from the unholy beyond.”

“Dark…Martha…”  His eyes roll back into his head.

“That’s right, fucker.”  She flings him into the air.  As he falls back down, she jumps and uppercuts him through his anus, splitting his body in two gory halves.  At the apex of her strike, she roars, “DARK MARTHA!” 

As I flee the bathroom, sobbing and blubbering, I wipe Superman’s blood and organs off my face.  Yes, I survived the pissing contest, but at what cost?

AT.  WHAT.  COST???

(Cue the climactic part of the theme from Requiem for a Dream)

Have you lost a pissing contest to a god-like Kryptonian, and have no option but to unleash Dark Martha?  Never fear!  Buy my books, summon her from the unholy depths, and get ready to witness her anus-breaching uppercut!

Get A Door into Evermoor on kindle here: A Door into Evermoor. Paperback here: A Door into Evermoor, paperback.  Get Weapons of Old here: Weapons of Old Get Kor’Thank here:  Kor’Thank:  Barbarian Valley Girl.  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 

Hold on!  I just got approved to be an Amazon affiliate!  If you’re going to buy ANY product from Amazon, and you’d like to support my efforts for absolutely free, then simply click on one of the Echo links I’ve provided—they’ll send you to Echo’s Amazon page—and THEN buy whatever product you wish.  Amazon gives me a small referral fee each time this happens!  In this manner you can support my books, musings, zany ads, or my adventures along the noble path known as The Way of The Man Child WITHOUT spending any more money than you were already going to!  Should you do this, I vow to send you a silent blessing, causing your genitals to adopt the optimum size, shape, smell, and death-ray attachment of choice that paralyzes your enemies with fear and envy!  Entire worlds will bow before your nether parts!     #Kindle #KindleUnlimited #writingcommunity #writer #booktok #writerscommunity #writing

“I’m coming for you, Kent!  And hell’s comin’ with me!”  Chuck Norris glares at me through my phone screen, thrusts his hips and grabs his crotch, and throws me the finger before he hangs up

Fuck, what did I do???  I need to get out of here before—

He roundhouse-kicks through my fucking garage, crinkling the door and busting in like the Kool Aid man.  But instead of saying “Ohhh YEAH!” he points a finger at me and tearfully shouts, “It’s all yer FAULT!  You and yer sexy Chinese penis!”

“I’m Korean-American, actually.  Just because I’m—”

“SHUT YER SEXY CHINESE MOUTH!  QUIT MESSIN’ WITH MY DAMN INTELLECTUAL!”

I have no idea how to respond.  “Uh…”

“There’s nuthin’ left fer us eighties icons!” he rages.  “Back in my day, no one cared if you wet yerself when it was cold, ’cause you were trynna piss through three inches of winter clothing with a mere two inches a’ dick!”

I tilt my head in blatant skepticism.  “Uh…I kinda feel like people still cared.”

“SHADDAP!” he yells.  “Look at this—LOOK AT IT!!!”  He yanks down his pants and brandishes his wiener. 

I shield my face with an instinctive hand, but not before I spot the laser scope he’s attached to the shaft.  “It’s too small and weak to be accurate,” he sobs.  “Even with the laser, I gotta hunker down and halve the distance, so I don’t paint the rim with my old man pee.”

“What the fuck?!?”  I squint my eyes and extend both arms, using my hands to blot out his wiener.  “Couldn’t you just take a goddamn seat?  Maybe spritz it with a cleaner whenever you miss?  Hold on—”  I reach down to my sock and adjust the head of my womb-hammer.  “Ow, shit—sorry.”  I give a rueful laugh.  “Sometimes the dicklips nibble on my foot.  I got me an anklebiter.”

“THAT’S WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT!!!”  He zips his pants with a furious swipe.  “YER RUINING IT FER THE REST OF US!”

I shrug in defeat.  “I don’t know what to tell you—I’m a professional Man Whore.”

“That is IT!  Get ready fer yer soul to leave yer motherfuckin’ body!”  He roars in fury as he charges toward me.

FUCK.  There’s no way I can withstand his small-dick-powered roundhouse—that’s a lifetime of rage channeled into his foot.  So I open my eReader to a Kent Wayne novel, activating its mind-bending reality distortion powers.  Magic flash. 

Steven Seagal, the Grossest Man Alive, rockets through my roof like a goddamn meteor, dressed in a pair of yellow-stained whitey-tighteys.  Chuck Norris blurts, “What in the tar-fucking-NATION—” before Steven smothers Chuck with his grotesquely large, village-feeder man-teats.

“HELP!” Chuck screams.  “It smells like week-old bukkake!  I can’t—HRRMMMFF!”  The rest of his sentence is lost in Steven’s nasty chest hair.

“Every day, I eat several helpings of fermented sewer pizza,” Steven explains in his deadpan voice.  “That’s how I maintain a pungent body odor.  Care to smell?”

My eyes start to water.  “NO.”  I hold my nose and run like hell. 

Good LORD that is a horrible way to meet your maker!  Welp, that’s what you get, Chuck—keep your small penis fury to your goddamn self!

Kent Wayne wins again!  HEH heh heh!

😀

Have you been accosted by an aging overcompensator, intent on whooping your ass because of your beautiful genitalia?  Never fear!  Buy my books, summon the grossest man alive, and destroy your foe with a dose of sewer pizza body odor!

Get A Door into Evermoor on kindle here: A Door into Evermoor. Paperback here: A Door into Evermoor, paperback.  Get Weapons of Old here: Weapons of Old Get Kor’Thank here:  Kor’Thank:  Barbarian Valley Girl.  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 

Hold on!  I just got approved to be an Amazon affiliate!  If you’re going to buy ANY product from Amazon, and you’d like to support my efforts for absolutely free, then simply click on one of the Echo links I’ve provided—they’ll send you to Echo’s Amazon page—and THEN buy whatever product you wish.  Amazon gives me a small referral fee each time this happens!  In this manner you can support my books, musings, zany ads, or my adventures along the noble path known as The Way of The Man Child WITHOUT spending any more money than you were already going to!  Should you do this, I vow to send you a silent blessing, causing your genitals to adopt the optimum size, shape, smell, and death-ray attachment of choice that paralyzes your enemies with fear and envy!  Entire worlds will bow before your nether parts!     #Kindle #KindleUnlimited #writingcommunity #writer #booktok #writerscommunity #writing