Page 29 - My FlipBook

They invested a massive fortune to move eight singularities
into a circle so they could send a spaceship through the middle
and the resulting slingshot would send their assassin towards
the direction of Gnurdleigh’s XTC so fast it would confound the

numbers used to describe it. They had no trouble deciding
which race should pilot the warship. There was one race of
beautiful but very tiny Dicklords who would make the cost go
down as they could scale down the ship to one-sixteenth the
size of a normal person. They could not, however, determine
whether to send a female assassin or a male assassin. In the
end they agreed to disagree and sent one of each. That way,
when they came out of warp speed, they would have one
another to screw and not get lost in despair and loneliness and

lose interest if the mission took a long time. They chose a male
pilot who was strong, handsome, bright, and ferocious, an
expert in hand-to-hand combat, an accomplished fighter pilot
and who was four-and-one-quarter inches tall. He drank
exclusively a cheap malt-liquor chilled to exactly thirty-four
degrees. They chose a female pilot who had similar
qualifications, was incredibly buxom and attractive, standing

four-and-three-quarters inches tall. She drank the standard
steam-ale that the Dicklords made, but eventually would drink
and bathe in Labatt's Blue Canadian Lager. They each piloted
warships the size of basketballs that had the power to vaporize
a solar-system. One of them is a key player in the history of
the universe. The other became nobody in a hurry.

Allan R. Emery 19