My name is Bitefighter. I’m an 83rd level intellect, a Terrier Extraordinaire, and Kent Wayne’s loyal little buddy. I’ve managed to unify general relativity and quantum mechanics while I was taking a shit, but every day, I struggle with a task that makes advanced physics seem like a walk in the park:
Managing the idiot you know as Kent Wayne.
Right now he’s lifting a giant spoonful of paste toward his mouth, and I smack him soundly across the face. “BAD HUMAN!” I say sternly. “BAD, BAD BAD!”
He looks hurt for a second, then reassumes his doofy smile. He goes galloping out the door into a pile of leaves, then rolls around on his back like the idiot whore he is. I hear him fart loudly, then sniff the air.
(My pet human is fucking disgusting.)
I trot back to my workshop, where beakers and vials are bubbling away in a Rube Goldberg-worthy configuration of labyrinthine glass, and study the vast array of chalkboards I’ve mounted on the walls. Hmm…carry the lambda, account for the tautology…yes, I see…zero-point energy isn’t that far from the realm of practical application if we were to simply shift our understanding of—
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! The timer on my watch informs me that it’s time to feed Kent. I walk over to the microwave, nuke a piece of week-old pizza, and begin banging together a pot and a pan.
“COME AND GET IT, YOU FROTHING MOUTH-BREATHER!” I yell. “DINNER TIME!”
No response.
“Kent? Kent!” I walk outside, and see he’s still in the leaf pile, sitting on his butt. He’s facing away from me, his right arm moving in an ultra-fast quiver. Motherfucker’s jerking his hog. It’s gotta be like the tenth time in the last hour.
“Jesus Christ.” I palm my forehead and close my eyes. When I open them, I see Kent looking raptly at the eye of his own wiener, stroking up a storm. I suddenly realize he’s in mortal danger.
“NO, KENT!” I race forward, my paw outstretched.
Too late. Kent blasts himself in the face with his own jizz.
He starts writhing on the ground, clutching at his throat and voicing agonized gasps. Kent Wayne is host to a wide range of venereal diseases, all of which cancel each other out when they’re stored within his balls. But now that they’ve coated the soft lining of his lips, nose, and eyes; they’re eating at his flesh like roided-out fire ants.
“ARRRRHHHH!!!!” He writhes on the ground as his skin breaks out in third-degree burns. HIs lower jaw melts off and drops away. Shit! There’s no way I can salvage his brain! His organic tissue is far too compromised!
So I open my eReader to Echo, activating its reality distortion powers. Magic flash.
Time rewinds. Kent Wayne’s skull reforms over his brain, and healthy skin creeps back across his face—he’s in the midst of jerking his wiener, about to deluge himself with a lethal load. No time to waste! I scamper up his spine and stab my snout into the base of his neck, causing a neurosynaptic ganglion to seize up and paralyze his body. As he falls ponderously sideways, I somersault off him, landing in an anime-style crouch. Whew! Should be a couple hours before he wakes up.
Good lord, I need a vacation! Watching over Kent is almost as stressful as getting snipped!
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 Echo Vol. 1 & 2 Combined Edition here: Combined Edition I’ve started a podcast: Logical Idiots! If you want to check it out on YouTube, see it here: Logical Idiots on YouTube and help two complete morons out by subscribing, liking, and commenting! Here’s the iTunes page: Logical Idiots on iTunes. Also, my buddy Jumar Balacy has made a supercool microsite at kentwaynebrain.com! Go check out his computer-based wizardry 🙂 🙂 😀
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, podcast, 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! 😲💪 😜
Dirty Sci-Fi Buddha 