Monday, October 21, 2013

Warty Hugeman and The Dive Bar Somewhat Near the Beginning of the Universe (former)

"Bring me more of this swill!" the neoAustralian bellowed, banging his empty mug on the table. The chitinous plates making up his carapace rubbed together as he inhaled to yell again, sounding like a dozen paperbacks being ripped apart.

"Calm your being," Simon said. "The weight of your [empty drinking vessel] on table will trigger automatic refresh/refill/reload of contents."

"I was drinking here before your transport womb shat you out, Simon. I wanted the waitress to come over. I fucked her back when I had external genitalia and I wanted Hugeman to get a look at her." He scratched under the edge of a plate on his shoulder and flicked away a wriggling parasite.

Warty Hugeman was very drunk. He had no idea how long he had been at the sleaziest bar on Time Station Alpha-Prime-One. He stirred briefly at his name.

"Wake up, Hugeman, you depressing fuck," the neoAustralian said. When he touched Warty on the arm with a claw, the automatic defenses of the timesuit growled.

"I want more," Warty muttered.

"There is in front of your person, Warty Hugeman, a drink presently," Simon said. He spoke a rapid pidgin of machine code and the timesuit struggled to translate it. Vat-grown and gengineered to computational perfection to serve The Rainbow Podiarchs, Simon lived as a slave. Warty grabbed him after impregnating The Violet Queenarch with a powerful bomb and jumped them both to a faraway peak so they could watch the shockwave howling out of her vagina bring the entire arcology down. Warty had no idea how long either of them had been sitting with him.

Warty grabbed at his glass and brought the homeopathic screwdriver to his mouth with a practiced lethargy. The molecules of pure ethanol in the glass contained the memory of an orange and went down smooth. Warty had a sore-headed determination to drink as many glasses as years he had with her. He was reasonably sure that would kill him.

"Hugeman," the neoAustralian said. "I'll cheer you up. I got a new anus installed. That's six now. Any dumbass that tries to sneak up on me is getting hit with a shotgun of shit. You wanna see it? Excretory armaments are your favorite, Hugeman. You're always sayin."

"Leave him (designate Warty Hugeman in current frame of reference) alone. Designate Warty is experiencing emotional syndrome sadness/grief." Simon grinned at Warty in simulated sympathy. The effect was grotesque.

An alarm screamed through the receiver clamped to his left mastoid process. "Time incursion," the suit said over the alarm. "Level 5. Maximum emergency protocol." Warty pawed frantically as the wrist controls to stop the protocol, but it was too late. A powerful cocktail of ethanol antagonists, force oxygenators and meta-amphetamines flooded his bloodstream. After three agonizing seconds Warty was completely, horribly, and mercilessly sober. His enormous fist shattered the smartglass table when he slammed it down. The meta-amphetamines let him see every shard moving away at a snail's pace, backdropped by the vomitus spiral of the time incursion opening.

The neoAustralian spun on its multitudes of legs, readying his assal fusillade, and Simon let out a high pitched scream of metal tearing that Warty heard translated as "Approach forth breakers of the primate mother/female progenitor/eggbearer incest taboo!"

"We have to close the incursion! It will swallow the entire station!" Warty yelled over the wailing of the station's evacuation order.

Something like a human figure began to form in the center of the incursion, it was reaching toward them, pleading with vague fingers. Warty fired a micro-torpedo, but it stopped millimeters from the surface of the shrieking wound in reality and then settled to floor as a fine dust.

The neoAustralian shivered with a sharp crackling. He moaned, "It's times like this that wish I still had my penis."

THE END

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