if you don’t believe in crazy coincidences, well, get a load of this. There are really a ton of stories throughout the universes, even the parallel and diagonal. You be the judge, folks!
Basically, I had an adventure that was nearly identical to a story in a 20th century Earth comic. I’d read it at Yoop the junk store the week before. it took place on Earth, mine took place on The Big Clam
Reptiloids and samuraiii
The Big Clam is located in the binary solar system Citroengeel, in the Camel nebula. it’s an artificial planet. it’s called that because everything is inside its shell. At the core, in the middle of its imitation sky, hangs a nice fake ultralogen sun. it goes off at night and a fake moon and a bunch of ultralogen stars come on.
On the planet’s concave surface (the inside part, the exterior is just a shell), there are cities, forests, seas, mountains, and everything. it’s always full of tourists, adventurers, and crazies. And Tronzes. They’re the nasty race that created and runs this funhouse. They’ve got all the sex appeal of a plane crash.
As I head in, I want to tell you one more thing: there’s another reason it’s called The Big Clam. Tronzes believe in the coming of the Great Mollusk Fisherman and say that on judgment day he will open the two valves of the planet, squeeze a drop of holy megalemon on top, and eat it, taking everyone into his Great Belly. Ugh!
That’s my sister P-19F, buddy! This is her taxi. I have to sub for her because she got into trouble giving a tourist she picked up a slightly overenergetic blowjob, and now she’s hiding out and getting a fake iD plate put on. Wanna hear what she did to him?
Sure, shoot!
After this tiresome introduction, let’s get on with the story. I hailed a robotaxi to get to Shell City, the capital. The robot looked nothing like the picture on the dashboard.
Who’s that? Your rusty brother?
The room was clean and neat. There was just one cockroach. On the ceiling.
Ha ha ha! Wicked! What did you do with the body?
And so…
He dropped me off at a nice hotel. Just then
Let’s get this straight, thingy: if you stay up there, fine -otherwise, I zap you! Got it?
OK, OK, where would I go anyway?
Then she let out an obscene shriek, the magnetic screen ripped apart, and a sweaty Plutonian jumped into the room.
I need to hide! Someone’s trying to kill me!! Oh yeah?
I peered out into the hallway hoping to congratulate the killer (and trust me, I’ve never been fond of Plutonians, but he’d already split). Not another soul in sight.
Well, a shooting is nothing special, I guess…
But it wasn’t over. The holovision came on by itself and displayed the disgustingly realistic image of a mean-looking Tronz. His voice was like nails on chalkboard.
TAKE HEED! THiS iS THE RULER OF THiS PLANET WiTH AN EMERGENCY BROADCAST! A GROUP OF PLUTONiAN TERRORiSTS HAS CREATED A BOMB iN THE FORM OF A MARKER AND PLANTED iN THE LOBBY OF A HOTEL iN THE CAPiTAL. USE NO MARKERS UNTiL OUR TEAM HAS LOCATED iT!!!
Tsk!
it was true. A microquark ray blasted him dead center. The cockroach muttered something from overhead. Shit man, I just fell asleep!
That airhead door was still whimpering with pleasure. I activated the emergency screen, grabbed the Plutonian, and chucked him out the porthole. Any hungry pterodactyls in the vicinity, and he wouldn’t even make it to the ground.
Problem solved!
Good luck with that! Writing dumb shit on the wall was their national pastime.
ONE OF THEM JUST PHONED US! HE SPOKE ON BEHALF OF THE MANAGEMENT OF THE GREAT MUSSEL, OUR PATHETIC COMPETiTORS iN THE CAMEL NEBULA! HE TELLS US iT’S AN ATOMiC MARKER WiTH A MEMORY MiCROCHiP THAT MAKES iT EXPLODE WHEN iT iS USED TO WRiTE A CERTAiN WORD! WE MENTALLY STRONGARMED HiM inTO TELLing US THE NAME OF THE HOTEL, AND HE WAS ABOUT TO GiVE iN WHEN ONE OF HiS PARTNERS iNTERRUPTED THE CALL! HE’s BEEN NEUTRALIZED! GRUNT!
Wild, I’m telling you! Just like that other comic, except for a few details! The holovision turned off and the Tronz vanished. That’d be some blast if The Big Clam were to blow up! imagine if it happened when someone was writing, “if you can read this you’re a koxtfz” or “your grandma has hairplugs”!
So that’s who that plutonian pain in the ass was: the phone guy! That means the bomb is in this hotel…
I’d been to the Big Mussel once. But since the creation of the Big Clam, it wasn’t so cool anymore. I remembered that was the only place they made that kind of marker.
Can you give me a minute, Sweetheart?
Go fuck yourself!
I dashed down to the lobby to look for the marker. There were markers all over the place. Then I noticed a little vegan girl writing on the leaves of a plant. When she finished, she turned it off, but the LED stayed on. That had to be the one!
Where’d you find that, sweetheart?
Down there, in the 4-D funny pages.
I shook him easy. I paused to examine the atomic marker. if I turned it in to the Tronz police they’d eat my heart and drink my blood just to blow off steam. if I tried to take it away and dump it in space, they’d stop me at customs and it’d be the same story.
I snatched the marker out of her hand and shot off down the street like a madman, the girl’s father chasing behind. He was big, fat, and royally pissed.
YOU BROKE HER TRUNK! I’M GONNA MAKE YOU into DUCK SOUP!
Go give yourself a swirly!
I ducked into a holocinema. They were showing the newest holomovie of Squeak the Mouse. But I wasn’t there for kicks. I was trying to lose the pair of frogoids on my tail.
I deep fried ‘em, no oil. What the heck were they? Spies? Journalists? Designers? Publicity?
Two more fritters. I headed off towards Proxima Centauri Boulevard. The air had the scent of choir flowers and that other thing I like so much.
I snuck out the back exit. There were two goldseries RAHMs waiting for me by the door.
Sorry, boys. invite only. And jacket required!
I slipped into the crowd of tourists, all headed to the arena to see the evening performance of “Bloodbath.” A cakewalk compared to what my little marker promised.
A ton of assholes are trying to find you, Penny....
That one nearly cost me my beak! Another fry job for the 5873iDE I’d missed.
Fix your aim and try again, loser!
I knew it could hear me. When the LED is on, any device can be listening, as we all know. Even the old TV sets in the 20th century did it, even though it was only officially discovered in 2087. I kept talking.
Know what they want to do to you, Penny? Break you. No question. They’ll take you apart piece by piece to see how you work….. Trust me, Penny.
I sat down at a senso-burghy. I put on the headphones and plugged in the jack. I enjoyed a simulated sandwich with CHG2 meat, a glass of hell juice, and some Loon Euphoria Chips.
They’re a bunch of dirty bastards, believe me. And once they figure out how you work, they’ll toss all your parts in the trash. And spit on them.
The girl was a dream. Our eye contact was so hot it sizzled.
But there’s one thing, you see… if you happen to go off you’ll make me really mad, Penny. it’s true Because that would mean that you don’t respect me! SPLAM! You’d break me into a million pieces, Penny! it would be a betrayal.
I threw it in the trash and sidled up to the babe. We spent the following hours on a deluxe anti-gravity mattress from Nolo, floating among the ultralogen stars. You gotta try it!
There was a cutie sitting across the way giving me the eye. I looked back. Meanwhile I went on talking.
I’m not that kind of jerk, Penny. I’d never break you. it’s barbaric. I respect devices, I promise. Especially the clever little ones like you.
The atomic marker did what I’d been hoping for: it committed suicide. The LED flashed, flickered, and went out. A trail of foulsmelling smoke rose from the cap — the internal circuits were inexorably fried
A heroic death, Penny. Farewell.