“Look at this nerd!” A gym-bro, predictably named Tanner, shoves me while I’m walking toward the squat rack. His gym-bro, buddy, a roofie-slinging Ivy league douche-bro named Sterling, snatches up my phone and starts clicking through my playlist.
“What the fuck—this guy listens to Kpop DEMON HUNTERS??? Let’s ostracize him with disproportionate fury, and power it with our insecurity-driven alpha-male fantasies!”
“Fuckers! I’m only 14 years old!” I reach for my phone, but Sterling extends his arm backward and keeps it out of reach.
Tanner starts singing into a pretend-microphone, desecrating Ejae’s voice and making a mockery of her paradigm-shifting bars.
Oh ho ho, that is IT. Time to show these dick-smudges what time it is. So I open my eReader to a Kent Wayne novel, activating its mind-bending reality-shifting powers. Magic flash.
Lightning and radiance bust through the roof, enveloping me in a swirl of quantum brilliance. My body shifts into its Man Whore prime—I’m now a thirty-something year-old ripped-ass he-slut. Everything whites out in a flash of searing light as I uncoil my wiener from around my thigh, brandish it a foot above my head, and shout in an echoing thundering voice: “I HAVE THE PENIS!!!!” (And yeah, just in case you didn’t get the reference, feel free to hum the He-Man theme while you’re reading this).
Fuck it—I’mma hum it too. While I’m going, “Da-da-da DAA da, da da-da-da DAA da…” Tanner and Sterling’s hot-ass moms jump out of an interdimensional portal and run their soccer mom hands all over my body.
Tanner freezes in place. A single tear trickles down from his eye. “Wait—what? MOM???”
She smacks my dickhead on her tongue. “Sorry, can’t talk—mouth is full!” Then she galumphs my junk down like it was a popsicle laced with uncut crack.
Sterling drops to his knees, sobbing, and prepares to commit seppuku. As his mom cradles the balls and works the shaft, I yoink my phone out of Tanner’s hands, put Golden on speaker, then lean back and pillow my head with my hands.
Sorry, I can’t resist the triumphant vibes—I start singing, “We’re going up, up, up, it’s our moment…” I didn’t think you could make the song any better, but when you throw in Tanner and Sterling’s sobbing, the music is goddamn chef’s-kiss perfection.
HEH heh heh! Kent Wayne wins again!
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