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THE YEAR IS 2027 (said in monotonic computer voice) "Good morning, sweetheart! How's my multipronged mountain of man?" "I feel terrible today. Fuck dammit, I'm cold." "Sad face," said Marsie. "What's the matter?" "Lightheaded, can hardly move. Caught a virus. These fucking web dodders aren't making it any better." "Aw, they're ancient history, sweetums. Those deke poe retards have all moved on to their boring rill jobs and mundane hyooman families. We, however, have found a paradise in each other's numerous genitals." "Loll," said the gryphox. "You're always right, Marsie. Ty for grounding me." "Yew," she said. "I need to go check to see whether our breakfast's here. Berb." "Sys; I'll go check the news," he answered. "It's less aggravating than these net-dead cunts." Hm, galactic warlord wants us all to come in for implanting. Easter egg hunt and hot air balloon race in Sugar City. Grandmaster powned by Korean toddlers -- imho, we should just bomb the cockgobbles! -- art thief condemned to death for slander and copyright infringement. Not a hell of a lot going on. Resignedly, he decided he'd sneak a peek at CNN. "Shit! My rill house is floating down the fucking river!" he shouted. Marsie hopped in from the kitchen. "What's the matter, honeybuns?" Sure enough, the news video showed Hugh's rill house bobbing up and down in the dirty water. "That sucks, babe. Frowny face." "What the fuck, they just said it's going out to sea! Cunting climate change. Now I'm out a whole fucking rill house." Hugh pounded his table and flapped his wings angrily. "What a morning." "Thank goddess this house is so much nicer," said Marsie, kissing Hugh on the beak. "Needles pricking me," said Hugh, chugging his Faygo. "Ye gods, Marsie, you arouse me." "Ty, Hugh," said Marsie. "Do you want to go to bed?" "Yeah," said Hugh, lumbering up from his desk. "Right now." He embraced Marsie and swung her from side to side. "Great ghost of Gygax! Fuck me you mad fool!" Marsie exuberated, throwing back her head. "Hey---!" he sputtered, and gagged once. "Yes, puke on me, degrade me!" Hugh didn't; rather, he stood still there with his wings folded around Marsie. "Well?" shouted the cataroo, shivering with anger. But Hugh remained still, spaced out or eldee or dropped carrier or whatever. "Fuck it, you're no fun," said Marsie. "If you're not going to do anything...!" Marsie threw down Hugh's arms, and pushed his wings aside. She sat down and swiftly googled her favorite chat room. She'd hunt up some cyber. |
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