Posted by NL on February 27, 2008 at 14:47:09:
The Great Spaced Race 1
Oberth, the great mothership vanished in her ninth orbit, without leaving so much as a single flaming fart from her immense engines. They saw, they say, something on the cratered plains that looked like an immense human face with an even larger nose, but I don't believe that. I think the real explanation is to be found on Mars, that bloody planet, where the explorers (all dead) found big strange rocks like giant brains. That's what I think. I think they don't tell the common people the really bad and scary shit because they are afraid people will stop spending. Whip out the plastic and dig a deeper hole, you fucking moron, they say. Shit, I remember when weath glittered and weighed a ton but now it's all paper, see-- paper shit here and paper shit there and paper men and paper women all primed to blow away or flash into furious flame and then that's it, that's all she wrote. I ran upstairs all the way to the big editor at the city desk and I told him this: Boss, I think it's those strange brain rocks on Mars that cause all the trouble, like this recent rash of murdered women in our books and magazines, looking so cute and fuckable with knives in their guts and bullet holes in their gorgeous bodies! See, even the astronauts on Mars, before they died, they said they saw naked women dead in piles all over and they wanted to fuck them! Didn't you ever think that was strange? And I looked him in his eye, that one big eye of his that glittered like a rock with a slimy film over it all the time and it was all I could do not to scream and run for my life but the Boss is a thing of decision. He said, "Smashing idea, Jimmy! Grab a holt of that new girl reporter I been fucking since I'm tired of her already and take her with you and get the story on this shit, all that shit you been thinking. What's her name, now? Loosha! That's the one-- Loosha Lubejob! Get her right now! But don't you dare kill her and fuck her and eat her until you've got something fit to print!" And then he made like to open his giant mouth of fangs and snap my face off but I was ready and I turned and ran (runaway runaway!) and began my seach for Miss Loosha by heading for the men's restroom. There she was, lurking among the urinals, looking hot, by God, and it was all I could do not to stab her to death in her guts with the shiv I carried always on my person and fuck her corpse and eat her on the spot. Those damned Martian brains!
Those damned Martian brains. Yes, why do I think anything can ever happen? Why, I could not do a thing until I explained all my thoughts and feelings to Loosha, since she could hardly be an adequate partner on this fabulous dream assignment until she understood everything about me, and everything about the Spaced Race. God! Where to begin? Miss Loosha spread herself on her back, naked on my bed, back at my little rented room, and her big natural tits were so very tempting. But it would be wrong to touch her! Not yet! She asked me, in her husky, sexy, trembling voice, "Ooooooh, Jimmmmmy! When will you do it to me? HOW will you do it to me? Will you use that shiv you carry always with you? Will you give it to me in my b-b-b-belly or *gasp* in my soft and gentle boobs, soft and gentle boobs, Jimmy, for your face! Your lips! Your teeth on my womanly flesh! And me all dead and defenseless! When Jimmy? When?" Yeah, that was the question, for sure. So I sighed deeply and said, "Well, Miss Loosha, it all began like this..."
At first there were rockets and the sweet rocket's flaming blast was amusing. Many rockets were so phallic in their design that the connection with death could not be disguised for very long. Rockets were packed with TNT by men who could not, on any ordinary day, get it up themselves, and then they were sent up up and away with their lethal loads to rain death upon the enemy. Crude, yes, but no cruder than the original biological model. When they were brought before the war crimes tribunals, they, those early rocketmen, cried out: Don't blame us! God made the prototype! We are only the humble servants of a great natural process! Well, that wouldn't fly as a defense. But they were not hung but only put to work creating bigger and more destructive phallic engines of death. Later we stuffed rats, monkeys and men into the things and instead of killing them, at least not all of them, we found a source of amusing stories. The tales they told! A monkey, returned from orbit, described its encounter with God before we euthanized it. Unbearable, that touch! And the men said, you know, all I could think about was naked ladies. Never have I felt so manly as when I rode that five-hundred-and thirty-seven foot pee-pee to the stars! Wow! Let's build us a nine-hundred-and-fifty-two foot flaming pee-pee from hell and fly it all the way to Mars! That ought to be a hoot! Yes, and then the damned Martian Brain Rocks fucked it all up. Why did they put such thoughts in our heads? Some say the heads and thoughts were always there and that the Martian Brain Rocks were just a lame excuse to let the natural human animal play. I am not intellectually equipped to solve that problem, of which came first, the heads or the rocks. I have to tell you, Loosha, about the early days, the very early days of the great Spaced Race, before I can fuck you and kill you and fuck you and eat you, eat you cut up into little morsels small enough to fit on that little hot plate over there on my dresser of deal. I'm very much afraid that a lot of your lucious dead flesh will go to waste. But I promise to keep fucking what's left until the stink of your rotting loins finally attracts the attention of the public health department or the other tenants who will fetch the landlord and away you will go, to pleasure someone else, someone even more debased than I. I said that, you see, by way of explanation. Loosha said, then, "Jimmy! Don't be such a damned bore!"
A damned bore!