Ready Player Fun
Page 11
“Okay, that’s one way to look at it. But you were also clever and brave and you stood by your friends and used your incredibly specific esoteric knowledge to accomplish things no one else could do while making real sacrifices and risking real danger in the name of freedom. So yeah, you fucked it up in the end. But no one’s perfect, dude. It’s like you didn’t even really get Shaw’s final message to us. You aren’t afraid to be yourself, whatever that looks like… and that’s the hottest thing of all.” She shrugged. “I like you because you’re confident enough to run around as Felicia McFly and fight for what you believe in against all odds. It takes a pretty cool guy to do that.”
“Even with the weird sex stuff?”
“I want to tell you something, Bowie.” She leaned closer and laid her lips against my ear. “I’m into weird sex stuff too. My sex drive is through the roof. Wanna fuck?”
Fuck yes, I did. We banged like bunny rabbits in her four-poster bed upstairs in an excessively girly room, and friends, let me tell you something: when they scanned Hank Johnson and Mary Smith to set the official limits of orgasmic pleasure in VR, they got Mary right. Probably. How the fuck should I know? I’m not a girl.
But that motherfucking boring-ass stick-in-the-mud Hank Johnson? The one they scanned for male orgasms in VR? That dude did not appreciate sex enough. Because let me tell you, when Samantha sucked my cock and let me fuck her IRL until I blew my load all over her hot, heaving tits and she came in writhing ecstasy, it was amazing. Better than amazing. Better than anything I’d ever experienced as Felicia fuckin’ McFly.
The conventional wisdom we formed about sex being better for chicks than dudes? At least as long as we’re talking about real life compared to VR, let me tell you, my friends…
The conventional wisdom is dead. Fucking. Wrong.
I’m Bowie Jackson, formerly known as Felicia McFly, and that’s the story of how I truly came to love the O-Face.
About the Author
I’m A.V. Kern. I wrote a stupid, over-the-top, ridiculously silly and hopelessly nerdy parody of a very popular Sci-Fi LitRPG, and I’m proud of it despite how dumb, painfully self-aware, and hyper-sexualized it is. I predict almost everyone will hate it, but I hope some of you appreciated the references and the in-jokes anyway.
Books are supposed to be fun, and making fun of popular things in a light-hearted way is pretty fun for me. This book was a blast to write from start to finish. I hope you all enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it, and I want to offer a sincere apology to Ernest Cline for teasing him about his much-more-excellent-than-mine book (even though I seriously doubt he cares). I also want to apologize to Nat Silverman, Lisa Frank, Jason Priestly, Quentin Tarantino, and anyone else I made fun of in this book if I happened to inadvertently offend you—please know that I have the utmost respect for artists of all stripes, and this book was written in good faith and good humor.
The one exception is any real person that the “Jack Rompton” character might be making fun of, because I think such alleged persons are dumb and deserving of scorn and derision.
I will almost certainly write more dumb books in the future, so if you like reading dumb books, you should sign up for my spam-free mailing list, and I’ll let you know whenever I write another dumb book. Here is the dumb link: http://eepurl.com/dr6SHT (just copy-paste it if you can’t click directly). I also have a dumb Twitter account I will probably never use because Mailchimp made me have something, and if you want to follow it even though I’ll probably never tweet because Twitter is a plague on mankind, you can do that here: https://twitter.com/AvKern If for whatever stupid reason you want to reach me by email, my email address is av.kern.author@gmail.com.
Thanks for reading my stupid book. I can’t believe you did that.