<KRUNK. It isn’t a brilliant name. Should I keep it? I could do better, I could do worse. What does my intuition say? I listen to my intuition. It says: ‘Who really cares? What does it matter? It’s adequate: short and easy to remember. I’m not trying to impress anyone. Use it.’ Then it’s settled; I’ll keep it.>
<Let’s go back to my latest incarnation: a brief sample of an animal’s life. I’ve taken up spiritual residence in the body of a diolask, which is a fairly large plains herbivore. As usual, such creatures prefer to live in herds. There’s no real challenge here. I didn’t choose it, though. Once again, I was flung here by the enemy flinging machine, which was triggered by some kind of novelty clock presumably. Perhaps a model animal on a spring pops out and makes a noise that irritates everyone nearby, day and night. Still, there are much worse things than the life of a diolask. All I have to do is graze, drink, stay with the herd, watch for predators and run away from danger. No problem. Actually, there is a problem. It’s supremely boring. I put an algorithm in charge of the diolask and use the time to plot my escape from the Great Trap.>
Sshhff – BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!
<Massive explosion. I am deafened. Earth and rock raining down all around. A lot of good pasture is ruined. Scraps of my herd flutter or splatter to the ground. Half a leg bone bounces off my back. Instinct makes me run a hundred meters away from the crater before my KRUNK brain can prevent it. I watch the wounded bellow in agony as they bleed to death. No medics for them. Orphaned infants will starve later or be eaten by hunting beasts. I stand my ground. I only have cuts and bruises, plus some deafness. My hearing might recover in time. Until then, I need to stay alert. Predators will take advantage of any weaknesses. When all the airborne debris has fallen, I walk over to the centre of the crater. It’s deep and uneven but I’m sure-footed. I look at the remnants of the missile. My ‘herbivore’ eyes aren’t suited to seeing details. I use technology to bolster my precision vision. I see that the missile fragments are probably Cybertronian in origin. That’s good news for me. My people the Transformers have found a way to reach me on this world, either accidentally or deliberately. Will they try to rescue me soon? It won’t be easy if I keep moving from place to place at random. I try to stay hopeful. For now, I should leave here. Predators would have heard the explosion. They’ll come to investigate. I don’t want to be here when they do.>
* * * * *
KRUNK: It is my manifest destiny to rule this world. I was chosen to be here. It is my absolute right. All opposition will be swept aside!
Me: No, you’re a construct. You’re part of me. Be sensible and help me to escape this world.
KRUNK: You are kin to me but you are opposition. Prepare to be vanquished!
Me: Stop it. I can feel another spirit shift approaching. I’ve experienced enough to recognise the signs now.
KRUNK: Take THAT, traitor!
Me: Mental constructs have no substance. Cease and desist. Your actions are futile. Your blows pass through me without touching.
KRUNK: I have no option but to continue fighting. My enemies must be defeated, however long it takes!
Me: I’ll have to deconstruct you. Just a minute.
KRUNK: No one can deconstruct a god! I am indeconstructible! You will kneel before ...
<I make him vanish.>
Me: Pity, but it had to be done. Night night, god KRUNK.
KRUNK: That just leaves you and me, nameless buddy.
Me: Who are you? The dregs of KRUNK?
KRUNK: Call me realist KRUNK. I have no ideas above my station, only pragmatic advice.
Me: Fine, do that but don’t get in the way. We still have a fight on our hands. This isn’t over.
KRUNK: We need to work through some of the inter-dimensional escape tricks from Cybertron’s past. One of them has to work.
Me: I’ve been trying but it’s difficult with such a poor, unreliable memory. I’ve been recalling more lately. Perhaps my dalliance with Avid-Bren helped. I had a few useful insights when he lay on my chest and accidentally rearranged some of my memory chips.
KRUNK: I remember. Also, the look on his face when we ejaculated sparkling nanobots was priceless! He must have thought he was at a miniature fireworks display!
Me: So funny! We don’t do enough of that sort of thing, do we? Still, we must press on. I’ll keep experimenting. You comment when appropriate.
KRUNK: That’s my job! Life’s interesting when inter-dimensional travel splinters one’s ego.
* * * * *
Me (as a piece of crafted gold): ................
Me (as a dirty, discarded toy): ................
Me (as a small pet animal): Wenaaa! Won, wenaaa! Wona, wona, wona.
Me (as a little girl): Mummy, I feel funny! I want something nice to make me feel better. There’s a cute looghie over there. I’m going to cuddle it!
<I run toward myself. I am both girl and looghie. We lock eyes and our visions overlap. It’s perplexing for our young hosts’ minds. The looghie looks around and finds the toy. I feel my soft toy form being picked up by my looghie mouth. The girl watches the looghie holding the toy in its mouth. Both girl and looghie stand still, overcome by weird sensations. The girl gazes at the ground and spots a gold ring. It’s pretty and it’s also part of me. She puts it on her largest finger and feels more complete. The looghie senses this and is attracted to the girl. It drops the toy at her feet. She bends down and picks up the looghie and toy. She feels whole again. The looghie feels whole too and snuggles its head under her chin. The toy feels and smells very homely. The ring scintillates in the sunlight. All is well.>
Mummy: That’s a lovely looghie but it’s not ours. We have to give it back to the right owner.
Me (girl): I found a ring and the looghie found a toy!
Mummy: That’s nice dear. You’re both very lucky today. Where’s the owner?
Me (girl): She’ll be along shortly.
Me (looghie): My person-mother is kind to me and gives me many treats.
Mummy: Did that looghie just talk to me?!
Me (girl): Don’t be alarmed. I’m coming out of your daughter. She’ll be yours again after this. Part of me is coming out of the looghie too. Give us a minute.
Mummy: What do you mean? Stop messing about ...
<I’m really getting the hang of this. I extricate a compact, mechanoid body from the girl, the looghie and the toy. With the girl and looghie, I climb out of their mouths. With the toy, I simply tear through the muddy fabric. The ring is entirely a part of me. We incorporate it into our mechanoid body very quickly. Unfortunately, the process horrifies the girl’s mother. She screams loudly as I emerge, recombine my components and scuttle away. The girl chokes and cries. The looghie doesn’t understand this peculiar vomiting. It watches the scene nonplussed. I race into the bushes. For the first time on this world, I have an entirely mechanical body! It’s only thirty centimetres long but it represents another substantial step forward. I keep moving through the woods, hoping that I can build on my success. Sadly, my enemy foils me again. My spirit is forced to a new location and my little body is left to rust.>
* * * * *
<This time, I’m not helpless.>
<I glimpse the enemy and try to attack.>
<I launch a salvo of vicious inter-dimensional weapons.>
<He dodges deftly and slams me backwards with an ultra-energetic shockwave.>
<I tumble between dimensions at breakneck speed.>
<He pursues and pummels me again.>
<He’s not relying on a timing device now. He’s taken personal control of the assault.>
<Whenever possible, I launch more weapons.>
<I try many varieties to increase my winning chances.>
<I’m closing in but he punches me into another situation on the organic life world.>
<This time, I inhabit the body of a man.>
<The enemy’s blow is so severe that even the man is stunned and can’t talk for a few moments. I’m damaged again and can only watch events unfold. It will take a while to recover and regain control.>
Woman: Anzeldez! Are you alright?
Anzeldez: Oh! What was that? I had a sudden pain in my head. It’s passing now.
Woman: You’d better keep an eye on that. It could be something serious.
Anzeldez: It’s probably your ‘Pikora effect’. No one’s immune. I must say, it’s been a delight meeting you today. It’s a shame that there was a scene at the restaurant.
Pikora: At least we nearly got through the whole meal before the arguing and shouting began. Those people had great self-control. None of them bothered us directly. It was a near-normal dining experience.
Anzeldez: Now, we have some business to conclude. I talked you through your options. Have you decided what investments to make?
Pikora: It’s more complex than I realised. I should spread the risk with a diverse portfolio. I have a hundred and twenty nine million credits to invest this year, give or take a few thousand. I’ll put fifteen million in derivatives and fourteen million in hedge funds. Twenty million can go into blue chip stocks while sixteen can be tied up in bonds. Another fourteen can be stuck into pension funds. Eighteen million should go to agricultural loans. Mining will have twenty two million. The final ten million should sit in construction, fuel and forestry: evenly split.
Anzeldez: Are you sure about the mining stocks? They’re risky at present.
Pikora: I’ve been studying the geology of Samdemaly. I reckon that there are new deposits ready to be discovered in the North West of that continent. I’ll persuade one of the smaller companies to go prospecting there. Some experts mentioned the possibility of gallium deposits. Those will become much more valuable when the next generation of electronics is developed.
Anzeldez: I should have known that you’d study the geology. You do that anyway for your many plantations.
Pikora: That’s right, I have to know the mineral situation. Sometimes, I need certain ores quickly for fertiliser. I can extract them from one plantation and take them to others, in different countries.
Anzeldez: You’ve come a long way since your T.V. debut, haven’t you? I used to watch you present that show for four years. I never missed an episode. It’s a shame that they had to cancel the show. The ratings were stratospheric.
Pikora: That was such a sad time. I miss being the star, the centre of attention. Unfortunately, we were victims of our own success. We were blamed for many ills of society such as reduced productivity, a threat to morals and even the spread of disease.
Anzeldez: I cried when you went off air. The backlash was so unfair. How are you a threat to morals? You’re the golden girl!
Pikora: Maybe so but you know what happened. I inadvertently triggered a massive upsurge in relationship problems. The Pikora effect caused havoc in bedrooms worldwide. People fixated on me and neglected their partners. Too many days of work were lost because people stayed home to watch me on repeat. Reluctantly, I withdrew from the spotlight but my income remained high as I went into business. Now here we are, growing the firm.
Anzeldez: Speaking of growth, I’d like to know your plans for agriculture next year. Will we have the same crops as this year or do you want rotation? Also, shall we stick with the current labour force or ramp up mechanisation? There are some good deals on tractors and harvesters at the moment.
Pikora: The workers are still cheap. I don’t want to mechanise yet. It would be cruel to fire all those loyal planters, weeders and pickers. As for rotation, we need to switch from tovols to sagoups on the plantations in Erglyk, Spinith and Vazhpion. It will be a half crop so that the soil can recover more quickly from three years of tovols.
Anzeldez: I’ve heard rumours that you’re going back into T.V. work behind the scenes. Is that true?
Pikora: Yes, I’m going to dip a toe back into the T.V. world. Deemvay Studios want me to be an executive producer on a new magazine show for young people. I’ll mainly work from home and visit the offices once a week. I can’t make a bigger commitment as long as I have my other business interests.
Anzeldez: Yes, your ‘Empire’, with you as Supreme Leader. You’re sitting so imperiously there, upright and confident. I love how your glossy hair cascades over your shapely shoulders, nearly reaching your perky ...
Pikora: Anzeldez, you are still gay aren’t you?
Anzeldez: Yes, fully but the Pikora effect drills through preferences and stimulates basic urges. That’s why my ...
Pikora: I watched it grow gradually over the last few hours. You resist me better than most. That’s why the gay community is my favourite recruiting ground.
Anzeldez: Huh, what an inconvenient stiffy this is! Thankfully, no one else can see it. I should go and relieve myself. Where’s the bathroom?
Pikora: Why not use the machine? I had it installed for just this purpose. As you can imagine, most of the business people who meet me here in my home office become aroused. This machine deals with them quickly and efficiently. Thus, my staff and I avoid repetitive strain injury.
Anzeldez: I’ve heard of these machines. They’re rare but they’re becoming more popular. I’ll try it. I walk up here, slip myself into the glory hole and activate ... ooh! It’s put me in a condom and it’s squeezing my buttocks. I’m being pulsated in rhythmic waves. My nipples are being tickled. A pair of silicone lips is coming out to kiss me ... mmph!
Pikora: You should come in two minutes or less, just like on those late-night ‘phone-in shows. When you’re done, the condom will be removed and you can urinate into the pipe behind.
<Pikora walks up behind Anzeldez, presses her bare body against his back and nibbles his right earlobe.>
Pikora (whispering in his ear): I’d do you personally but I have to pace myself. The queue for my attention is colossal!
Anzeldez: Oh Empress, I adore you! I’m coming!
<His body shudders and spurts into the machine. He breathes deeply afterwards as Pikora strokes his chest with both hands and kisses his cheek. They finish up and return to their seats. Pikora smiles as she performs a few functions on her computer.
Anzeldez: That was magnificent! I’ll have to buy one of those superb machines!
Pikora: Twenty thousand credits each. You could rent it out to recoup the cost.
Anzeldez: What happens to my deposit in your machine?
Pikora: Thrown away, unless we want to retain it for some reason.
Anzeldez: You know that there’s a market for it. You might sell it to make me some children.
Pikora: Would I do such a thing behind your back, my helpful financial adviser? I’m the golden girl, not some seedy opportunist!
<Anzeldez laughs as Pikora secretly types a dispatch note. She’s sending his wrapped sperm – via a pipe in the floor - to a needy local couple and taking full payment for it: speedy delivery, no questions asked, anonymity assured, risks covered up. Moments later, Pikora’s four female best friends walk in. They’re holding some small books in plain paper envelopes.>
Cudein: Aha! Looks like Anzeldez found the sex machine! See him there, spent and droopy!
Anzeldez: You don’t know what you’re missing, ladies!
Garshamaney: I’m not missing anything. I used it only yesterday! Yeah, I’m long enough when I’m randy!
Anzeldez: Impressive. Anyway, I won’t be here much longer. Pikora has made her choices. When I’ve recovered, I’ll go and make her investments.
Quolla: Glad you’re on board, Anzeldez. You ensure that we remain loaded.
<She walks over, straddles him, sits on his lap and presses her large breasts against his chest. She kisses him full on the mouth. He doesn’t respond much but he smiles. Quolla’s a fun friend.>
Quolla: Lovely little gay Anzeldez. Your lap makes a fine seat for my peachy bottom! I’ll leave you now. We have secret girls’ stuff to do.
<With a final kiss, she rises and walks away to join her four friends in the private back office. Anzeldez rests for another few minutes before getting up and putting his clothes back on. Pikora prefers that most of her visitors remove their clothes in her home so that everyone’s on an equal footing. Anzeldez is curious what Pikora and her friends are doing in the back office. He knows that he’s not supposed to go in there but he worries that he’s being kept out of the loop. He tiptoes over and listens at the door. It’s very quiet. All he hears is an occasional quiet grunt, sigh or page turn. Are they simply reading? Are they playing video games on mute? Are they massaging each other very slowly and gently? That last possibility is titillating, even for him. It tips him over the edge. He kneels and looks through the keyhole. For once, the key isn’t in the hole. What he sees shocks him. His opinion of the five women drops dramatically. What will he do now? Will he confront them? Will he have a quiet word afterwards? Will he say nothing? He could use his new discovery as a bargaining chip against them if there’s a quarrel later. Then, he thinks about his beloved Pikora. His priority is to protect her from danger and corruption. He has to say something immediately. He bangs his fist sharply on the door.>
Anzeldez: Pikora, I know what you’re doing in there! Please come out and talk to me! I want you to stop. I can’t stand by and see you hurt. That goes for your friends too.
Pikora (muttering): Oh no! No! No! No! No!
Defra: Cudein, the key fell out. He’s seen us!
Garshamaney: Why is he still here? Doesn’t he normally leave right away?
Quolla: What are we going to do? He might tell the world!
Cudein: He shouldn’t interfere in our private affairs. I’ll tell him.
Anzeldez: I must do something, Cudein! Pikora is under threat. My favourite woman in the world is being hurt, albeit gradually.
<The door is unlocked by Garshamaney’s shaky hands (she’s worried). She pushes past Anzeldez and leaves the office. She goes to collect her clothes and other belongings. Anzeldez notices that all the women are wearing large, unfashionable spectacles, as if they want to look frumpy.>
Quolla (approaching Anzeldez): My dear, I’m sorry that you saw that. We’re only trying to have a bit of fun. The world can be a hard place, even for the privileged. We move in high society and we need something to calm our nerves.
Anzeldez: How can you all do this? It’s disgusting! How do you sleep at night when Pikora’s body and mind are being degraded?! If you weren’t my friends, I’d punch your lights out!
Defra: Hey, don’t you dare threaten us! We’re not making trouble!
Anzeldez: No, this is insidious. It undermines people until they collapse prematurely. How can you be a part of it?
Pikora (sighing sadly): I’m sorry that you found out about our hobby this way, Anzeldez. What will you do? Will you expose us to public scorn?
Anzeldez (kneeling before her): First, I’m going to beg. Please stop, Pikora! Please stop doing all these damned PUZZLES! You know that they rot your brain! The thought of it shakes me to the core!
Pikora: A few puzzles here and there won’t hurt. They’re just like spreadsheets and we use those all the time.
Anzeldez: Puzzles are addictive! One leads to the next and then more and more. Addicts do puzzles obsessively until they pass out. Puzzles eat away at your time, energy and mind. It’s been proved scientifically! How many have you done this week? Is it more than a hundred?
Pikora (rolling her eyes and sighing): All right, a hundred and twenty six. Fifteen were jumbo cryptic crosswords.
Anzeldez: W.O.P. almighty, you have to go to rehab as soon as possible!
Pikora (shaking her head): Tsk, I don’t need rehab. I can stop any time I want. I’ll stop right now, in fact. I don’t want to be known as a puzzle fiend. I’ll switch to harmless video games. Could you stop kneeling? It makes me uncomfortable.
Anzeldez (getting up): What about the rest of you? Will you carry on puzzling? Will you continue to tempt Pikora with your awful crosswords, codewords, gogens and sudokus?
Quolla (with a sad expression): For you dear, I think I can give up. It won’t be easy. I’ll need rehab.
Defra: Fine, I won’t puzzle with my friends but you can’t control what I do at home alone. Sorry Anzy but I reckon that a mild vice is better than a life of misery and frustration.
Cudein: If everyone’s giving up, I’ll have to as well. However, I’ll continue to enjoy an occasional game of Hangman.
<The five women all chuckle at that remark. I know why. Anzeldez doesn’t.>
Garshamaney: Looks like it’s time to put down the big glasses and pick up the console controllers, girls! I’ll need a stint at rehab. I hope it works. I hope I’m cured. Anzeldez is a man of his word. If we don’t quit puzzling, he’ll reveal our secret to his friends in the media.
Quolla (worried about her reputation): He’s so caring and considerate. We’ll toe the line for him. We’ll clean up our acts as much as we can.
Pikora: Girls, perhaps you should all go home. Arrange your rehab sessions and then rest. Stay calm. I’ll handle this. We’ll meet again later. Anzeldez, how’d you like to stay here with me this evening? We could purge the house of puzzles. That would help set your mind at ease, I’m sure.
Anzeldez: It would help, yes. Let’s do that. It’ll be an honour!
Pikora (smiling): Good, I’m glad to hear it. Please come in my back office, the heart of our puzzling sins for the last eleven years. We’ll start here. (She beckons him in.)
<The four female friends gather up their possessions, take some drinks and snacks, get dressed and leave at a leisurely pace. Meanwhile, Anzeldez and Pikora empty out the back office. It takes them two hours. There’s half a tonne of business files in there. Many of them contain secret stashes of puzzles. Pikora takes the opportunity to recycle hundreds of obsolete files. She should have done it earlier but her time was stolen by puzzling. After the files are processed, Pikora picks out other puzzles from hiding places around the office: between cabinets, under tables, behind panels, on top of shelf units and other such spots. The sun sets and finally the back office is cleared. Anzeldez and Pikora have some refreshments before tackling the rest of the house. They sit outside on the large roof terrace, eat, drink and then talk.>
Anzeldez: You know, I’ve never felt so useful at work before. We’re ditching plenty of old stuff. We’re making room for new things and new activities. I’m doing my best to put an end to your nasty vice. We’re getting plenty of exercise. We’re finding old papers that you thought were lost. We’re cleaning and dusting a bit as we go. We’re getting to know each other better. On top of all that, I’m still admiring your hot body and cheerful charm.
Pikora: Also, I really like your work ethic, loyalty and helpfulness. I’m glad that you were free today. You’re not even asking for pay like many others would. You deserve some form of reward. Would you like to stay here with me tonight? We’ll have supper now and I’ll make you breakfast in the morning.
Anzeldez: Are you sure? Is there no one better than me?
Pikora: There’s no one I’d like more with me tonight than you. If things go well, perhaps we can make this a more regular arrangement. You’ll probably want to bring in boyfriends. I can accommodate them too. I have several bedrooms here.
Anzeldez: Pinch me, I’m dreaming! Of course I’ll stay! I hope you have a spare toothbrush.
Pikora: Naturally I do. I’m very popular and I have to be prepared for unexpected guests.
Anzeldez: If we can just finish clearing out these accursed puzzles, we can make up a bed for me.
Pikora: No need.
Anzeldez: Why? Is one already made or will a servant do it?
Pikora: Sleep in my bed with me. It’s easily big enough. It’s too big for me alone, to be honest. Yeah, I know I’m not your preference but we can use our imaginations. I’ll pretend that you’re very muscular and macho. You pretend that I’m one of your pretty boys.
Anzeldez: Hot DAMN, that’s the best idea I’ve ever heard! Come on, show me all your secret puzzle stashes! Let’s get this place fully CLEAN before we turn in!
<They remove all known puzzles from the house. Afterwards, they go to bed together and have an enjoyable night. Anzeldez discovers that Pikora has a large, intimate secret. When she’s horny, her ‘little nubbin’ grows into a twenty-centimetre whopper with considerable girth. Anzeldez uses it orally to make her blissfully happy.>
* * * * *
<Anzeldez sleeps soundly through the rest of the night. I never sleep, though. I observe my surroundings minutely. I’m trapped in this body until I recover from the previous attack or until my captor transfers me elsewhere. The hours roll by and I remain where I am. This is peculiar. My judgment of time in this reality is very skewed but it feels like my regular transfer is overdue. What’s happening? Maybe I injured my captor with my weapons earlier? He might even be dead. If so, I’m stranded until I’m rescued or I arrange my own escape. Shortly before dawn, I feel a transfer attempt beginning. This one is the weakest yet. My mind flashes from place to place around the world. After dozens of moves, I return to Anzeldez. The enemy can’t lock me onto any one place. I’m resisting him but the effort is barely adequate. If only I could access more Cybertronian knowledge, I’d be out of here immediately. I analyse my global flits and start to see patterns in the enemy’s methods. He uses particular ways of dimensional folding and twisting. They’re highly complex but regular and ultimately predictable. If I practice and experiment enough, I should be able to reach him. I’ll need quick reflexes. What am I saying? Cybertronians always have quick reflexes! Tick tock, my enemy! You might reshape time and space but you’re dealing with a god warrior now. KRUNK will fix you good.>
* * * * *
<Pikora wakes at dawn with aching around her eyes, a racing heart, a full bladder, trembling limbs and a stubborn craving. She tumbles out of bed and rushes to the lavatory. As she sits and pisses, she grabs a mini-console and logs into an obscure, illegal puzzle site. She grapples with a hard sudoku but makes a mistake and ruins it. She growls and moves onto a quick crossword, which she demolishes in five minutes. She does another but can’t complete it because she doesn’t know the word ‘epistemiology’. Frantically, she reaches for a thesaurus and searches until she finds the word. Her legs are going numb by this point. She powers headlong into a kakuro and finishes it in thirteen minutes. That was the high she needed. Her pains and tremor abate. She can face the day. She gets up carefully, flexes her legs to remove the numbness and starts preparing: flush, shower, drying, combing, shaving, teeth, gargling, spitting, eyebrows, eyelashes, moisturising, lips, scent, etc. She goes to the kitchen and cooks a standard, post-coital breakfast. The key is quality ingredients. She works automatically as she fantasises about word-searches, dot-to-dot binges and sometimes the harder stuff, the top-class puzzles and games that are played deep in the underworld. She’d love to meet the uber-nerds from that shadowy realm but it’s too risky. She’s too well known. She’d be seen and exposed. Soon, Anzeldez is lured from bed by the smell of breakfast. With his morning glory standing proud, he walks in to find Pikora cooking. She’s only wearing an apron.>
Anzeldez (kissing Pikora on the cheek): Good day, Empress! How gracious you are to make breakfast! Any chance that I could use the machine again quickly before you serve?
Pikora: The cleaners are in the office but they won’t mind. Go ahead.
Anzeldez (jogging toward the office, holding himself to prevent flapping and swinging): Thank you!
<Pikora continues cooking as she ponders the activities of the day. There’ll be two meetings with managers and a visit to a plantation in Royablee Province. She’ll also have to approve expenditures for the week and review the next advertising campaign. She’s thankful that she has so many loyal and resourceful employees, which makes delegation simple. Orders are followed without undue problems. Morale is generally high, which means few complaints. Fortune smiles upon her and her companies. That gives her ample time for delicious, forbidden puzzles of all kinds.>
Anzeldez (returning to the kitchen): I’m falling in love with that machine! I’d better watch out. I’ll end up alone with only machines for company. Anyway, I must compliment you on your cleaners! They’re such handsome men in their matching shorts! If they’d been gay, I’d have been all over them. They didn’t seem too happy to see me, though. When I was using the machine, they looked cross and cleaned harder. Perhaps they’re homophobic.
Pikora (serving breakfast): No, that’s not it. They’re jealous because they’re not allowed to use the machine. I can’t let everyone use it. They’d wear it out! Guests only.
Anzeldez (eating): Fair enough, I suppose: your house, your rules. Today, I must make those investments. We were lavishly side-tracked yesterday. What are you doing for the rest of the day?
Pikora (eating): Meetings in the morning but then a plantation trip in the afternoon. You could come along to the plantation if you have time.
Anzeldez: Good idea: I’m free! Where should we meet?
Pikora: Zapcan Terminal, Entrance Nineteen, two hours after midday.
Anzeldez: See you there! This poached serble is sublime, by the way.
* * * * *
Me (inside Anzeldez’ mind): Anzeldez, I must talk with you.
Anzeldez: What’s happening? I can’t control my arms. I can’t control anything! I feel detached from reality.
Me: I’ve taken charge of your body while we talk. I have to explain your current situation. It’s crucial that you understand and don’t panic. I’m an alien spirit. You’d call me a UFO person. I’m fighting another person. Both of us have superpowers. Your life will become very eventful today.
Anzeldez: It’s already eventful. I’m having breakfast with my idol Pikora and I’m helping her to overcome her puzzle addiction. We’re going to see a plantation this afternoon.
Me: That’s quaint but much stranger things are imminent. You’ll see shocking, violent, impossible sights. They probably won’t hurt you but they’ll be very disturbing. Prepare yourself.
Anzeldez: I’ll believe it when I see it. This is only a vivid daydream, isn’t it?
Me: I can feel it starting already. Look at her. What do you see?
Anzeldez: Hallucinations around her. Hellfire, this is disconcerting! Letters, numbers, grids, illegal publications, very repetitive, ropes and chains, faint and ghostly, people entangled, tools, manual work, clinging to old ways, retreating from alternatives, blind faith. Hey, how can I know what these people are thinking if they don’t tell me?!
Me: Thoughts can be sensed directly in some realities. You must brace yourself for much worse than this. Fear not: I will do everything in my power to protect you.
Anzeldez: Who are you?
Me: I’ve forgotten my original name. I’m trying to retrieve my memories. In the meantime, call me KRUNK. I’m a machine person. You’ll probably see parts of me soon.
Anzeldez: How am I having such a crazy daydream? This isn’t normal!
Me: It isn’t a daydream. I’m returning body control to you now.
Anzeldez (back in reality, at the end of breakfast): Unh! That was so ...
Pikora: What?
Anzeldez (trying to hide his worry): Nothing; I just bit my tongue slightly. You’ll have to show me how to make these Cospalgic cakes. They’re so moreish!
<The day goes on. Pikora has her morning discussions while Anzeldez visits a few dealers and brokers in town. Pikora knows nothing of the visions troubling Anzeldez. He becomes increasingly distracted, which is inconvenient in business and downright dangerous on the roads. I help out with the driving now and then. Faces keep appearing in the most unlikely places, shouting threats and abuse. I have to take the wheel to prevent a crash. I’m amused by the sight of my enemy’s phantoms popping out of walls and trees in an effort to intimidate us. He doesn’t seem to know that they appear ridiculous to me. Anzeldez does his best to ignore the phantoms. He’s able to conclude his Pikora deals and then make his way to the Zapcan Terminal. Zapcans are little transport capsules that can carry up to six people. There are hundreds of them zapping across country daily at up to eight hundred kilometres per hour. They’re generally reliable and considerably cheaper than air travel. Anzeldez, Pikora and three assistants take a zapcan to her plantation in Royablee Province. The journey only takes twenty minutes. We reach our destination promptly.>
Pikora (stepping out of the zapcan): Anzeldez, I’ve been meaning to ask why you’re so preoccupied. You’ve been quiet the whole trip. All you’ve done is look around, as if you’re expecting something to happen. Nothing can intercept a zapcan except a military weapon. Nothing much will bother us here either. This area is peaceful. Is there anything you’d like to tell us?
Anzeldez: Umm, I’m ... fine. There are just too many faces for me. I don’t like crowds. Too many faces, shouting. They come along and say bad things.
Pikora: We’re not saying bad things about you or anyone. Is it the Pikora effect again or are you having an episode? Do you have a history of mental problems by any chance?
<Anzeldez looks at her. He sees what no one else sees, except me. It’s an underlying reality. He sees her addiction! There are lines of tiny letters and numbers moving into her head. He sees her sweat, shudder and twitch. Her eyes are wide and glassy. She’s becoming thinner as she neglects to eat and drink. Making the scene even worse, the shouting, swearing heads make an appearance, pushing out through her body and spewing their noise at him. His breathing deepens and quickens. He looks down and sees parts of him become mechanical. In other words, he sees my presence within him. He shines and glows in places. He says nothing but his expression is one of suppressed terror. Nevertheless, he knows that it’s time to act. He gets out and walks away from the zapcan into the tall bushes nearby.>
Pikora: That’s weird. Hiaro, go with Anzeldez and see that he doesn’t get hurt. I don’t know what he’s up to.
Hiaro (following Anzeldez): Yes, Mistress.
Pikora: You two, we’ll meet the governor and inspect the facilities. It shouldn’t take too long. This is one of the better plantations.
<She leads her two assistants to the plantation H.Q. This should be a routine meeting and tour. They hope that Hiaro can keep Anzeldez in check. Various plantation workers start gathering to welcome Pikora. She has fans everywhere.>
Hiaro (walking through the forest): It’s nice to have a country walk but you do realise that there are a few poisonous animals out here. Also, don’t touch the stinging vines. They got me once. It took hours for the spines to drop out of my skin.
Anzeldez: Not worried about those things. Got to scramble frequencies and block link nodes. First node’s over here.
Hiaro: This is forest, not an electronics complex. Don’t wander too far or we’ll get lost. The forest is several kilometres wide. We’re not dressed for an expedition.
Anzeldez: Have to stay alert. Enemy interceptors have been launched.
Hiaro: Are you playing games? We don’t have time, dude!
Anzeldez: They’re coming! They’re counterattacking! Aaaaahhhhh!
<Mysterious metal components sprout from Anzeldez’s head, shoulders and arms. They’re some of my tools and weapons. This time, Hiaro can see them. He steps back in alarm. Exotic energies radiate from my components. They block link nodes, scramble frequencies and divert an enemy weapon. There’s a flash of light green in the distance as the weapon misses its mark.>
Hiaro: Anzeldez, what’s going on?! Are you alright?
<My components retract and are then shunted into another dimension. Hiaro runs over and checks Anzeldez’s body for injuries. He finds none. Furthermore, there are no metal components to be seen.>
Anzeldez (suddenly back to normal): Let’s rejoin the others.
Hiaro: Anzeldez, wait! Y-you haven’t explained ... er ... whatever that was!
Anzeldez (walking to the H.Q. building): It’s complicated. You don’t need to know all the details. Don’t fret; I handled it. It’s all under control.
Hiaro (following Anzeldez): We have to report this!
Anzeldez: Yeah, right after we report the slavery.
Hiaro: Huh?
Anzeldez: You know all about it. You’re on the inside. It’s well-hidden but the clues are there.
Hiaro: There’s no slavery here.
Anzeldez: Oh really?
<He stops, bends down and picks up a set of old shackles from the undergrowth.>
Anzeldez: Here’s a clue! If you report me, I’ll report the whole company.
Hiaro: Alright, stay cool: I won’t say anything.
<Hiaro doesn’t know what other evidence Anzeldez has against Pikora’s company but he won’t risk disclosure. Too many livelihoods depend on the company. The pair reach the H.Q. and join the meeting late. They didn’t miss much. It’s a routine discussion of normal plantation activity and future plans. Pikora promises funds to improve drainage in the lower field and also to resurface farm tracks, which have been eroded by rain and floods. A local contractor called Ralfintet will be hired to carry out the works. After the meeting, there’s the usual executive relief break. Spouses have been brought in for this purpose. When that’s over, our group is taken on a brisk tour of the nearest fields. All seems well. The crops are growing at the usual rate. Pests and diseases have been minimised. The soil has been fertilised organically. The workers are content with their lot. They talk with us briefly but then retreat undercover to diddle with themselves. Soon, we’ve seen and heard enough. As the workforce climaxes en masse in the bushes, we go back to the zapcan and head home. Hiaro and Anzeldez stay awake while the others take a nap. In her sleep, Pikaro’s mouth opens slightly and saliva begins to drip out. Anzeldez produces a paper tissue but Hiaro grabs it before he can use it. As one of her assistants, it’s Hiaro’s job to keep her presentable. He dabs her mouth dry gently. Still asleep, she closes her mouth and tilts her head to the other side. Hiaro goes back to his seat and looks at Anzeldez with a concerned expression. He’s worried that Anzeldez wants to act against the company.>
* * * * *
<Back at the house, Pikora has nearly two hours of administrative tasks to work through. Anzeldez is free to use the house facilities. He swims a few lengths in the pool, tries the exercise equipment, watches a little T.V. and then sneaks away to the servants’ quarters. He wants to investigate the male cleaners who he saw earlier. He noticed that they wore steel collars and now he wonders if they’re slaves. Soon, he finds a room with three men’s names on the door. He knocks.>
Man’s voice: Who is it?
Anzeldez: Could I please have a quick word with you? I’m the financial adviser.
Man’s voice: We got no money, man. Leave us be.
Anzeldez: That’s not what I want to discuss. It’s about your status here. I’ve learnt a few things and I’m concerned.
Man’s voice: Ssh! I’ll let you in. Stay quiet. Walls have ears; eyes too, sometimes.
Anzeldez: Thanks.
<The door’s opened. One man sits on his bed reading. A second man lifts heavy dumbbells. The third stands by the door, looking at Anzeldez with interest. They’re ruggedly handsome and they’re only wearing shorts. For Anzeldez, it’s a wet dream! Anzeldez closes the door behind him and they have a quiet conversation.>
Third man: I’m Tramue. Sheag’s reading and Tubar’s pumping iron. What’s this about, man? Everything’s legal here.
Anzeldez: I’ve been finding evidence of slavery in the Pikora Empire. I saw you three earlier and I put two and two together. Are you being held as slaves?
Sheag: We’re not allowed to talk about it. The situation is legal but she wants us to keep quiet.
Anzeldez: How can slavery be legal?!
Tubar: Didn’t you check the law before you came here? I’d expect a dude like you to do his research!
Anzeldez: Ha ha, check the law! That’s a good one! The law is vast. It would take me years to learn.
Sheag: Ask your lawyer, man. Read Labour Act number 2005 and Workplace Reform Bill number 1988. It’s in the small print. Mistress gave us this pamphlet to explain it.
<Anzeldez takes the pamphlet, sits on Tubar’s bed and reads it. His smile disappears. The pamphlet looks genuine. The message of the pamphlet is deeply troubling. It seems that, in certain circumstances, slavery is legal.>
Anzeldez: Why is she keeping you like this? What happened?
Tramue (sitting on his bed): We all displeased the Mistress. We were selfish. We didn’t do enough for her.
Tubar: We were jerks and now we can’t even do that. If I could turn back time ...
Anzeldez: I promise that I’ll look into all this and consult lawyers. We might be able to find a way out for you. In the mean time, I really must get you out of those collars! It’s appalling that she’s making you wear them. I helped her clean out her back office and I found these little keys.
Sheag: Those must be the spare keys! Try them!
<Anzeldez experiments and finds the right key. He removes all the collars. It’s a relief for the three men. Then, they all remove their shorts. Tramue grabs the keys and tries to unlock his cage.>
Anzeldez: Holy W.O.P. on a bread roll, she had you all CAGED too?! How long has this been going on?
Tramue: One continuous year.
Sheag: A year and a half.
Tubar: Nearly half a year for me.
Anzeldez: You’ve had no relief in all that time? That’s so vindictive! It’s torture!
<Tramue gasps as the cage comes loose and falls to the floor. Tubar takes the key and fiddles with his own cage. Soon, that’s also off. Sheag releases himself a minute later. They all go to remove the piercings, wash themselves properly and then apply antiseptic cream in a few spots. Although they’ve done their best to keep clean, their manhoods are a little sore after a long captivity. Anzeldez weeps to see fine young men end their suffering at last.>
Anzeldez: I can help you more, guys! I can make you feel much, much better!
Tramue: How so?
Anzeldez: I’m gay! Here’s my Gay Association membership card!
Tubar: You’re just what we need, man!
Anzeldez: Gather round. I’ll kneel. One on each side, one in front: let’s do this!
<Anzeldez gets them erect and relieves them all simultaneously. Two minutes later, his chest is heavily decorated with pearls of their spunk and his throat is coated with the stuff. Tubar, Sheag and Tramue go and lie on their beds, their heads spinning after such an abrupt change in fortunes. Anzeldez goes to the sink, rinses his chest and takes a drink of water to clear his throat.>
Anzeldez: I’ll leave you the keys, guys. Keep them hidden. You can put the collars and cages back on and then release yourselves again when it’s safe. Meanwhile, I’ll try to get you free from here.
Tramue: I don’t think we’ll ever be free, dude. The law’s clear. The government agreed it. You’d have to change the law to get us out of here. It’ll take a long time.
Anzeldez: Maybe I will change the law. This injustice against my fellow men is too heinous to ignore!
Sheag: You’ll have to go against her first. You’ll have to turn people against the Mistress somehow. I doubt you can do it, man.
Anzeldez: What do you mean? What does she have to do with the law?
Tubar: She knows people in government. We think that she changed the law. They couldn’t refuse. No one can refuse her. She’s the one who must be obeyed. People treat her as W.O.P. incarnate!
<Anzeldez is now even more anxious. He gathers up the collars and cages, putting them on a side table.>
Anzeldez: I will help you, guys! I’ll do whatever I can! Now, I have to go back to the main house. She’s expecting me for dinner soon.
Tramue: Watch yourself, gay dude. Thanks for the hand job: couldn’t have done better myself!
<Anzeldez exits the room, closes the door and hurries back to the main house. He’ll have to calm down and pretend to be ignorant of the slavery. Pikora expects to spend another night with him. He can’t possibly disappoint her.>
* * * * *
<It turns out that Anzeldez can’t suppress his nerves well enough. He quivers like a jelly and so I’m obliged to take over. I have nerves of steel, literally. After dinner, Pikora and I eschew a conventional dessert. We retire to the bedroom with a pot of cream, a tub of yoghurt, a jar of jam, a basket of fruit and a squeezy pouch of malty yeast extract for variety. We spend nearly an hour putting food on each other and then eating the food. As a mechanoid, I find this very dull and unsatisfying. I especially hate the taste of yeast extract but Pikora loves it and sucks it off me enthusiastically. I go through the motions as per the innumerable adult videos I’ve watched over the years. Anzeldez enjoys the night vicariously through me. When we’ve eaten enough sticky food, dead skin flakes, dried sweat, stray hairs, street dirt, clothes fibres, deodorant traces, chemical pollutants, microbial soup and miscellaneous bodily fluid crusts, we resume lip-to-lip kissing. Our mouths mainly taste of sweet, salty, fruity, dairy goo. In an attempt to clean up a little, we lick each others’ faces too. Pikora detects the unwelcome taste of antiseptic cream on my chin. I tell her that I had a rash there today. (In reality, it was from Sheag’s genitals.) She tells me to wash it. I go to the bathroom and clean my face. As I inspect myself in the mirror for a moment, I look down at the various items on the windowsill. In the middle is a tube of toothpaste, which gives me an idea.>
<When I return to the bedroom, Pikora is lying on our messy bed surrounded by empty food containers, fruit remnants, rumpled clothes and stained sheets. She’s ripped open the yeast extract pouch and is now licking it thoroughly. Her legs are bent and open. Her oversized ‘flower bud’ is throbbing as she licks. It’s so big, she could almost be a lady-boy. The only things missing are external gonads. I kneel before her wonderful tool and take it in my mouth again. As I coat it in saliva and rub it sensuously with my tongue, she feels a difference. She drops the empty plastic pouch and thrusts her pelvis repeatedly at my face. She puts her hands on the back of my head to prevent recoil. We keep going like this for several minutes, with her panting and shrieking all the while. She seems to have been possessed by the spirit of some uninhibited wild animal. She lets rip with several loud, pungent farts that are mostly inhaled by me. Eventually she slows to a halt. The law of diminishing returns applies to all things.>
Pikora: W.O.P. almighty, what was that? I was tingling like a bastard and the only cure was vigorous head!
Me: Simple toothpaste, my glorious farty lover!
Pikora: I’m so sorry about the gas! I was completely caught up in the moment!
Me: I can take it: anything for the golden, farty girl!
<Pikora’s a little abashed but she still laughs. We lie there for a short while recovering. After about fifteen minutes, she speaks again.>
Pikora: You’re very good, waiting like this. I haven’t forgotten. You understand that you now have a backstage pass? You can flip me over when you want. We still have a bit of yoghurt for lubrication.
Me: I can wait a little longer. I’m just savouring the moment. This time with you is one of the highlights of my life. It doesn’t get any better than this!
Pikora: After your performance so far, I must say that I feel the same! Hah, toothpaste! I must remember to use it more imaginatively in future!
* * * * *
<When Anzeldez wakes again, he’s not in bed anymore. He’s lying on the couch in the lounge. It’s morning and sunlight is streaming in through the skylights. Pikora’s sitting at the minibar, sipping from a large cocktail and writing something with a bright orange pen. She’s wearing her big glasses and she’s tied her hair up in a messy bun. Her eyes are a little red, as if she’s been rubbing them too much or crying. She looks sad and angry at the same time. She’s not writing a letter: it looks like a puzzle. There are more slips of paper hanging over the edge of the minibar. Those are probably more puzzles. There are also some paperback books on her left side: puzzle books, most likely. She’s relapsed already and ‘gone back in the grid’, as addicts say.>
Anzeldez: Pikora, how could you?!
Pikora: How could YOU Anzeldez, you verminous queer?! After all I did for you!
Anzeldez: What? I don’t get it.
Pikora: You let my three captive exes defy my will. You released them prematurely. My C.C.T.V. staff saw you in their nightly review. At least my girlfriends enjoyed the footage of your gay foursome! They’ve been creaming over it this morning.
Anzeldez: You’re being very cruel and you know it. Those men shouldn’t be kept like that. It’s probably just the tip of the iceberg, I’m guessing.
<He sits up and notices a stabbing pain in his crotch. There’s also a hard band around his neck.>
Anzeldez: Oh damn! Oh hell! Oh my giddy GLOAD! You’ve done it to ME now! Collar and cage ...
Pikora: And you won’t find the keys this time. They’re in a much better hiding place.
Anzeldez: Why are you allowed to do this to me?!
Pikora: The law’s clear. If a man displeases his wife or partner very badly and, if she has sufficient means, she can subdue him and keep him as a slave for as long as she wants. She must provide bed, board and useful employment so that he can live in reasonable comfort. Our faith in the W.O.P. supports this. For full details, read the pamphlet on the coffee table. It explains about the anti-escape bomb and other aspects of the punishment.
Anzeldez: I’ve read the damned PAMPHLET! It’s all about the law YOU made! Your gorgeous exes showed it to me yesterday. What’s going to happen to them now? Will they disappear, never to be seen again?!
Pikora: I’ve sent them to one of my plantations. They’ll be out of my sight there. They’ll probably die there too, when they’re old and exhausted from hard labour. At least they’re not caged anymore. We’ll allow them partners and orgasms. If they try to escape, BOOM! Now be quiet: I’m trying to finish this killer sudoku. It’s an absolute stinker.
Anzeldez: Takes one to know one!
Pikora: You’re only making me angrier. I advise you to stop now.
Anzeldez: I used your bottom for my pleasure last night. You could use mine tonight. Are you able to do it? Is that physically possible for you?
Pikora (rolling her eyes and slamming down her pen): Why are you determined to break my concentration and ruin my little puzzle pleasures? I never want to give them up! I’ll most likely die with book and pen in hand.
Anzeldez: You promised me that you’d kick the habit! You lied to me! You have no self control. It pains me to say this but you’re a whore to repetitive, pointless, mental wastage! See how you hunch over and shake like a senile, spastic pensioner!
Pikora (livid, reaching for a ‘phone): Restraint team in here now!
<Seconds later, four strong men in protective clothing rush into the room and stand near Anzeldez, who gestures for them to wait. He’s not going to fight against superior numbers. He stands up slowly. It’s my time to take over again. This time, I won’t be mistreated.>
Me (as Anzeldez): I’m not going to participate any further. Please take back this collar.
<I unlock the collar electronically and put it on the coffee table. Pikora gasps in astonishment. It shouldn’t be possible!>
Me: Take this evil tangle of wire too!
<I unlock and remove the cage from my privates. Deftly, I unscrew and pull out all the piercings. They’re fresh in so there’s a bit of blood.>
Pikora: Team, get back! I’m triggering the bomb!
<The restraint team runs to hide behind a large cupboard. Pikora reaches for the bomb trigger but somehow she dropped it on the floor. She goes down on hands and knees to find it. I concentrate and rearrange Anzeldez’s flesh. A hole appears in my upper abdomen. I’m able to reach inside and extract the bomb. I throw it right across the room and it lands behind a large sofa in the furthest corner. I close the hole in my abdomen. Pikora doesn’t see the bomb fly but finds the trigger, hides behind the minibar and activates the bomb, which explodes behind her. She curls up in a ball to protect herself. When fragments of wall and furniture have finished falling around us, she gets up and finds me still standing; not dead at all. She’s deathly afraid, can’t comprehend her failure and doesn’t know what to do next. I bring out some weapons to establish my dominance fully. As interdimensional portals open and alien metal gizmos point menacingly across the room, Pikora puts up her hands slowly. For once, she’s beaten and she knows it. This is a paradigm shift moment in her life.>
Me: Restraint team, retreat. Get away from here. I’ve shown myself and my enemies will surely come. There’ll be heavy combat.
Restraint team leader: But what about Mistress?! We have to protect her!
Pikora: Go to safety: that’s an order! I’ll look after myself!
<The team aren’t happy about it but they have to obey orders, especially from her. Reluctantly, they back out of the room and then wait outside the house. They sound the house’s evacuation alarm and call the police. Staff and visitors leave the compound.>
Pikora: Can I put my hands down now? You’ve got all the guns and I’ve got nothing.
Me: Except your older brother Spod, waiting in the wings. I’ve been reading your mind. It’s a fascinating family story. You’re blessed with extreme popularity. He’s cursed with the opposite.
Pikora: Try it the other way round! Who’s really blessed? What’s the real curse? Think about it. Why am I stuck in here so often, losing myself in puzzles and intoxicants? He’s free to come and go as he likes. I have to plan my outings carefully. My influence causes chaos, at least outside. His is benign and he can protect the world without interference.
Me: Any idea when he’ll come to fight me?
Pikora: Not really, unless he leaves me a note. That’s the only way we communicate. He shows up at random, puts short notes around the house and vanishes before we meet. It’s sad that we can’t have a proper relationship. I’ve grieved his withdrawal from my life and moved on, for the most part. Are you trying to kill him?
Me: If that’s the only way for me to escape this world, I’ll have to kill him. He’s tremendously elusive though and powerful too. He separated me from my body and dragged me around the world. It’s only now that I’m regaining some bodily control. This is a fraction of what I should have.
Pikora: He said that he was testing your limits. Normally he strikes rapidly but he’s never met a worthy adversary like you before. Once he has your measure, he’ll remove you from the picture.
Me: You’ve played your part as well. You kept me occupied and distracted brilliantly. He must be proud of you. What about the rest of your family? What do they think?
Pikora: How’s this relevant to our situation? They’re just ordinary folk who I don’t see very much. I’m busy with my own endeavours. Whenever I visit them or they visit me, there are problems. The frequent sexual arousal is extremely awkward. That’s why I decided to leave home when I was still in my mid-teens. I couldn’t face making my parents horny every day. We’d go out together and they’d be thinking about sex all the time. They’d sneak off somewhere and make love loudly when we were shopping, sight-seeing, going to a show or whatever. Dad’s erection featured in almost every family photo. Mum’s erection appeared quite often too.
Me: You didn’t answer my question about your own ...
Pikora: Why are you so interested in that carnal act, alien?! What possible use could that information have for you?
Me: Anzeldez is interested, not me.
Pikora: Fine! Anzeldez, if you’re still in there, I can stick it up a man’s rectum and give him pleasure. However, my appendage is sensitive and soft, as you know. It needs plenty of support and cushioning. I normally use a special, super-thick, custom-made condom for the purpose. I don’t do the deed very often because it’s difficult and not super-fun for me.
Me: Anzeldez thanks you. When this is over, he wants to remain a part of your life. He has a consuming passion for you.
Pikora: Him and most of the world! We’ll see how it goes. My life is so damned strange and messed up, I can’t guarantee anything.
Me: Your brother’s approaching now. I feel it. You should leave for your own safety. If he interferes with my mission, I’ll do whatever I can to foil him. I may have to kill him in a very violent manner. Your house might be destroyed, along with everyone in it.
Pikora: He won’t let that happen. I’m the Mistress but he’s the Master. He controls the physical environment of the whole world.
Me: How does he achieve that?
Pikora: No one can explain it. As far as we know, he became so utterly unpopular at puberty that he disappeared into another dimension. There must have been a weird special force at work. He survived and learnt how to manipulate dimensions. He’s obsessive, driven and laser-focused. He probably studied and explored until he learnt every possible thing about those dimensions. Now, he can do whatever he wants with the world. He must still love us, though. He hasn’t killed anyone and he does what he can to improve our lives.
Me: He’s here! Your brother Spod: he’s building massive power! I totally underestimated him. It’s too much for me! There’s a rushing wall of absolute fury catapulting me away from you! I’m going to ...
* * * * *
Scorponok: There you are at last, you malingering wretch! Stop lying about and get back to work!
Me (getting up): Which station, sir?
Scorponok: 339k, Section 2419. On the double!
Me (running to my work station): Apologies for failing to report, sir. I was hopelessly lost for ... three years, according to my internal chronometer.
Scorponok: You were trapped in an unexplored dimensional vortex. You were lucky to escape. We attempted rescue but some kind of super-being thwarted us. Your telepathic debriefing will start shortly.
Me (at my work station): Thank you, sir. Also, I have a small request to make. Could I please change my short name?
Scorponok: Why are you making this tiresome request now, Reacharound?
Me: I’m tired of being called that. The organics laugh at me.
Scorponok: Very well, give me your new preferred name.
Me: KRUNK.
Scorponok: I wouldn’t call that a big improvement but I’ll allow it. On your head be it. I’ll put it in the master file so that everyone is aware.
Me: Thank you, sir!
<After my experiences on Pikora’s world, my accidental new name feels good. I am KRUNK! It makes me feel even more powerful and adaptable, although I’m still not as strong as that Spod fellow. Anyway, I’m back on planet Cybertron with my people the Transformers and our mission of mass extermination continues. Awesome!>
InspirationsLa Fenty! (long-term bad gal)
Her appearance on the Graham Norton BBC TV show, summer 2018
‘The Key of Awesome’ music video parodies on YouTube
The ‘Terminator’ movies
‘The Creature from the Black Lagoon’ and similar movies
‘Swamp Thing’ comics, especially the ones written by Alan Moore in the 1980s; the ‘sound-effects’ therein
The worst plague on humanity ever seen: puzzles! (That’s my little joke.)
I wrote this in less than two working weeks, which is fast for me!
11 April 2019 - I just found out about this machine, which is similar to the one installed in Pikora's house
:
https://metro.co.uk/2019/04/11/sperm-ex ... e-9168728/