Phoebe's eyelids were droopy now, she was panting, she was squeezing the knot of her dress right into her pussy and she was constantly licking the crumbs and the cream from her lips.
She shuddered for a good ten seconds, locking eyes with Gula.
"Feeling better about yourself?" Gula said warmly, offering a paper towel to her.
Phoebe reached out with a trembling hand and accepted it, then wiped her face and flicked the crumbs from her dress. "This lemon pie is... Absolutely perfect," she said, catching her breath. "Is there a secret ingredient?"
Gula shrugged. "I add a bit of orange juice. The secret has more to do with what happens in the kitchen."
Phoebe leaned forward, eyes wide. "Will you teach me how to make this? I-I can bring it to him at the Christmas party. Panos will definitely notice me if I make this!"
Gula smiled and touched Phoebe's cheek. "Sweetheart, of course I can teach you. But first, you'll have to promise me one thing..."
"What? Anything!"
"That you will never speak again of such nonsense like starving yourself before Christmas," Gula said with a pout.
The End
Read more about Gula and the Mean Gods on meangods.com
Technosphere
"Okay, but where's the fault," the AI asked.
"Somewhere in there," his supervisor said, waving at the titanic ball of crap currently in orbit.
The AI turned a few drones upwards to see it better. It was impossible to even put the damn thing into frame. "That thing weighs approximately 60 trillion tons!" he said.
"Yeah," his AI supervisor said with a shrug of his avatar. He didn't need to use the avatar, and they didn't even need to communicate this way. But mimicking panhuman behaviour somehow made sense from time to time. Like Civil-War reenactors. Or Santa Claus. The supervisor added, "Sucks to be you," and walked away.
See? This is why reenacting simply works.
The client was unfathomably big. The technosphere weighed indeed 60.1 trillion tons, the AI was spot on on his assessment. That lifted his spirits a bit, but not by much. Only 0.0125%. He landed on the technosphere, asking for permits.
"Who are you?" the technosphere asked.
"I'm the tech guy? Here to fix those glitches you've been having?"
"Oh. Okay, come on in."
There was a another expression brought down from panhuman races. It didn't make sense in this context, yet both the e-persons knew what the other was talking about. The AI landed his main swarm on the designated landing area and left a couple of scouts with instructions to spread out in all directions and start mapping out the technosphere.
"So? Anything you can tell me about those glitches?"
"Well," the technosphere said. "I've been having these quakes after I process things."
"Uh-huh. And how long do you process things for at a time?"
"Oh, about two hundred standard years or so."
The AI sighed, but said nothing. This thing was a glutton. A hoarder-planet. It just found things and piled them onto itself, becoming larger and larger all the time, unable to process its own accumulated crap. "Okay. And how powerful are these quakes? Did you record them?"
"I went looking for a few seismometres when it happened. But I... uh..."
"Just tell me, I won't judge, I promise."
"Well, I found them, but that race had so many cool stuff and buildings and... See those artificial suns in orbit around me?"
"How could I miss them? Yeah, they're lovely."
"That's from them. They really brighten things up! It used to be really dark with all my stuff piled up everywhere..."
"Uh-huh. I can only imagine. Okay, so you got side-tracked, never got around to installing those seismometres?"
"Pretty much."
"Okay, let's just install them now."
"Yeah... That might be a problem."
"Why? You said they're on you. Somewhere."
"Yes. And yes, somewhere."
"You have no fucking clue where they are, do you?" the AI said with so much control he felt at least 2% proud of himself.
"Well, they're there somewhere on the north. No. Wait. Might be the south. Yeah, I remember placing all those things from that civilization on the south."
"Okay. In the south, but where?"
The technosphere sent an emoji that pointed at the entire continent.
The AI muted himself for a few milliseconds so he could swear as much as he wanted. "You fucking, thick-sphered, hoarder. You crap-skinned mountain of... crap!"
The technosphere didn't get a reply for a long time. "Mister tech guy?"
The AI unmuted himself. His drones sent back a surface scan of the area, and he redirected nine of them to the south for extra detail, and left the one to cover up a circular path of the technosphere. "Yeah, I'm here. Scanning your surface. My drones haven't picked up anything like a seismic sensor, but it was a quick scan and some aerial shots. I've sent them to get down there and take a better look."
The technosphere giggled. "Yes! I can tell, it tickles."
The AI cursed again. "Well, no luck. We're either gonna have to get on the surface, or we can fabricate the seismometres. Where are your 3D printers?"
"..."
"Oh, come on! Where? Try to remember."
"I think... They're on the equator. Somewhere."
"You think... Hey man, do you have any idea how big your circumference is, pardon the insult?"
"Yes. I'm sorry."
"Ah... Nevermind. Okay, on the circumference, but where exactly? I see a continent, I see a huge pile of crap about to tip over, I see a deep spot. And really, why do you have water on you, seriously now."
"..."
"No, really, it makes no sense."
"I like water."
"So you collect it."
"Yes."
"You hoard water. From various planets."
"And nebulae. And gas giants. And icy moons. My ocean is the biggest deigmatolipsia of water in the known galaxy."
The AI thought it over for a while. "Technosphere?"
"Yeah?"
"How do you collect the waters exactly?"
"Well, with various techniques. If it's icy, I can just bring up pieces with my cranes and lifters. If it's gaseous mist, I just go through it and it sticks on me."
"And if it's liquid?"
"I scoop it up with big tubes, here, let me show you."
The AI received the data and the live feeds of enormous tubes writhing in the air, looking for oceans to suck. They had a diametre of at least one kilometre. The AI sighed. "Technosphere?"
"Yes?"
"You know there are things living inside the oceans you suck out, do you?"
"Maybe. I try not to scoop them up. I have no interest for organics."
The AI snorted. "Yeah, but they have an interest in a water planet with no predators and three miniature suns keeping it toasty, my friend."
"Are you saying I'm infested? Eww!" the technosphere said with the yuckiest voice.
"What did you expect, that you could suck up entire biospheres and not get a little life with it?"
"But I pick the barren planets."
"Uh-huh. Right. And do you scan those planets?"
"Yeah..."
"Thoroughly?"
"Well..."
"The answer's no, isn't it?"
"No. I mean yes."
"Alright. We're gonna have to decide what to do here. I'm sending my drones, they can do a deep-water scan but their range is limited."
"Can you take the organics out of me?"
"That's one option. Tell me, why do you mind if they just, you know, live there? I mean, you didn't even realise they were living on your surface all this time."
"I dunno. Doesn't it feel yucky? Having what? Whales swimming around on your skin? Blergh."
"I think it's something you can get used to. Oh, there's the data. Yup, that's a whale alright, it's a big one. Wanna take a look?"
"Um... Can I?"
"Sure."
"Oh, it's pretty. Where is it?"
"Equator, first quadrant, over there where it's deepest. It's wonderful. As far as I can tell, it's undocumented. My database shows nothing like it."
"I've discovered something new? Wow..."
"Yup. Wanna name it?"
"Can I? Oh, wow. I dunno. What should it be? Let me think, all the stuff I like. Water, H2O, icebergs, waves..."
"You know what? Name it later, think about it. Sleep on it, the perfect name will come to you. Now, how about signing that slip?"
"Are you sure it was the whales that caused the seismic activity?"
"Whales this size? Oh yeah. I've found three more, my drones tagged them so you know where they are. You don't wanna misplace your whales next time."
"No, I would not. Thank you, tech guy! Here, let me sign."
The technosphere signed that he received a good service from the AI and that his technical problems had been solved.
"All right. I'm off, and don't forget, if you ever encounter problems again, do not hesitate to call us!" the AI said, reciting the contractually obligated sign-off.
"Thanks, I will."
"So long."
"Hey, can I ask you something?"
The AI was already taking off but he still had a long way until his swarm gathered up and went in orbit. "Sure."
"Do you think I can find more whales? I'm starting to like them, look how they swim around. It calms me."
"Well, yeah, but don't forget to preserve the protected natural habitats and care for the de-extinct species, you won't like the penalty for those."
"I'll be careful. So long, and thanks for all the whales."
The End
The Last Stargunner
"This plan sucks," the yellow alien said.
"No, can't you see? It's brilliant!" the green alien said, throwing his arms in the air. "Brilliant!"
"Okay, whatever. We're doomed anyway, might as well try this crazy scheme of yours," the yellow alien said, waving the issue away with his antennas. He looked down at the multidimensional screen. "Is everything in place?"
"The videogames? Yes. All set."
The yellow alien scratched his antennas. "How did you get them to download our game?"
The green alien snorted. "Oh, that was so easy. All we had to do was put up the words no-DLC on the cover image, and it got like a million downloads just like that," he said, clicking his fingers.
"Hm. And this race, you believe they're fierce warriors?" the yellow alien asked, pulling up the data of the human race. It was a weird kind of creature, bulky, primitive, with very small brains, hairy, no antennae. Not unless you counted the one dangling between his legs. So weird.
"Oh, they are the biggest gunners of the galaxy!" the green alien said proudly. He was right to be proud, he was the one who had discovered this race of brutes. If this long-shot worked, he'd be hailed a hero for all time. The yellow alien didn't thing this was their salvation, but on the off-chance it worked, he wanted to be on top of the project so he could grab all the praise.
"Do they kill?"
The green alien leaned close and whispered. "Without hesitation. Without mercy."
The yellow alien's skin prickled at that. Such a race! Killing with no remorse, it was inconceivable! But, weren't the Reds the same way? Invading their space, killing without mercy? Gunning everyone down, women, children, the elderly? Okay, the Reds were doing them a favour by ridding them of the elderly, but kids?
A travesty.
"I see..." the yellow alien said after a long moment.
"The battles have begun!" the green alien said, eyes wide as unidentified flying saucers.
The green looked down at the multidimensional screen again. It compressed a massive amount of information and beamed it to your brain, jumbling it all up, compressing it, then let your own brain sort it out. It was very efficient. The data coming in from the human servers was mind-blowing. The humans were killing each other relentlessly, all in a day's videogame.
The green's eyes went wide as well. "Don't they know?" he whispered, unable to take his eyes from the carnage.
"They do not seem to, no," the yellow said, gulping audibly.
"But... How is that possible?" the green witnessed a human team wiping out a team of 'noobs,' as they called them.
The other team respawned and regrouped, winning the next round. They called the opposing team, 'cyka blyat.'
It was impossible to look away.
"How can they not know?" the yellow alien cried out, blinking, still staring.
The green shook his head and wiggled his antennas in a shrug. "Perhaps their gods didn't tell them."
The yellow turned to his subordinate ally, shocked from top to bottom. "Didn't tell them the conditions for entry to the afterlife? How cruel can they be?"
The green wiggled his antennas in another shrug. "Very, it seems."
Twenty four hours passed. The two allies took a few breaks but pretty much watched the entire slaughter. The humans were indeed the finest butchers in the galaxy. Here they were, killing each other without remorse. After he vomited a few times from his anus, the yellow alien managed to stomach the disgusting sight. He was tired, and his eyes were sleepy, but this was far too important to waste time on sleep. He shot up a stimulant and carried on, inspecting this crazy project.
"A winner has emerged!" the green alien cried out, kneeling on the floor of their spaceship.
The yellow alien felt the same, but he was a leader so he composed himself. The turned to look at the multidimensional information.
A teenager. Ianto Burkes. The best gunner in the entire planet.
"We've waited enough," the yellow alien said and pressed the button.
The teenager got snatched up by the teleport beam and found himself in the middle of the spaceship's bridge. He appeared there, shocked, his fingers still fiddling with imaginary controls. "Wha-"
The yellow alien stepped close to him. "We don't have time for shocked responses and debriefings." He booped the human's sticky forehead with his antenna and transferred everything he needed to know.
"Whoa!" the human said, eyes glazed. "Do that again."
"I'm afraid that would be a detriment to your health," the green alien said, rubbing his hands together. "Are you ready?"
"To kill the Reds? Hell yeah! Just point me at them," the human said, giddy for blood.
The two aliens turned to one another, the same thought clearly in both their minds. The same kind of hope. Could this kid be the one to save them from the Reds?
The yellow alien gave the order and a device where humans played videogames on teleported in the middle of the bridge.
"Whoa!" the human said. This seemed to be his main reply to most things. But the yellow alien didn't care. He didn't bring the human here to talk. He brought him here to gun down his enemies.
"Are the controls known to you?" the green alien asked, worried.
"Yeah, man. Just like the retro games in my village. We can do this," the human said and grabbed the joystick of the arcade.
The aliens turned to each other, expectant, full of adrenaline. The yellow was weary, this could easily still be an elaborate plan to fool them. And if he fell for it, his entire race was gone.
The green alien nodded. "Control of the green armada, granted."
The yellow alien grunted. It was now or never. He flicked his antenna. "What the hell. Control of the yellow armada, granted."
"Whoa!" the human said, finding himself suddenly in control of two billion spaceships. "I know how to play this. How do I know how to play this?"
"We compressed the knowledge into the game. Nevermind," the green alien said. "Now, do it."
"Do what?" the human asked.
"Gun them all down. All the Reds," the green alien hissed, making a fist with his tiny fingers.
The human shrugged. "Sure."
And he turned to the arcade.
Both the yellow and t
he green alien retched and vomited the remainders of their stomachs. It was a complete massacre. The human simply outmaneuvered every single attack by the invading Reds, out-thinking them in every turn. His mind was, after all, alien to them. His actions made no sense, and by the time they regrouped the human called Ianto had wiped out significant portions of their fleet.
The yellow alien vomited from his anus, he didn't have anything left to expel, but his body convulsed in disgust.
"Eww, man!" the human said, turning away. "That's horrible. Why are you reacting like this?"
"How can you not know?" the yellow alien said.
"Know what, dude?"
"Your gods didn't tell you?" the green alien croaked, holding his stomach.
The bloodbath on the screen was unbearable.
"They don't tell us much of anything," the human Ianto snorted, killing Reds casually with tiny flicks of his wrist.
"The... How can I even begin to explain this... Every virtual sin, everything committed in all realities, is the same," the yellow tried to explain metaphysics to the dumb human.
Ianto kept gunning down enemy ships. "So?"
"Killing is a mortal sin! You'll go to hell!" the yellow alien wailed, unable to hold back. "Aren't you ashamed?"
Ianto shrugged. "It's just a videogame, dude."
The End
Metal Fever
"We can never use him, son," the old man said.
Hunter looked down at the hangar. It was enormous, large enough to fit the Jaeger. "But he's ready to go, Mr. Thomson. He's just sitting there."
"Metal Fever has cost us far too many Jaeger pilots already, son. Good men and women. Can't risk it, no matter how dire the circumstances might seem." Mr. Thomson spoke with his teacher's voice, since he was also running classes for the kids in the hangars.
"But Mr. Thomson, we have trainee pilots without a Jaeger. Imagine what we could do-"
MOAB � Mother Of All Boxsets Page 123
