I DO NOT CLAIM THIS FIC IN ANY WAY. EXCEPT MAYBE THAT WAY WHERE I'M APPARENTLY NARRATING THE PODFIC VERSION OF IT. ...and Wazy is now yelling at me that I am in fact involved and must claim it, because five years ago we sat around a computer and said "Buttercunt". THIS IS A BAD FIC. IT IS INTENTIONALLY BAD
The Last of the Isos
Written by Shotgun and Wazy
spell-checked by The Itch
"Oh Sam, it's so bright! and Non-neon!" Quorra whispered as the motorcycle zoomed towards the nondescript american city.
She pushed her face against his back, and, for the first time, her face flushed.
'This - what is it called? Smell? Yes. Smell! It's alluring!' she thought to herself inhaling the cheap axe body spray scent that infused Sam's terrible walmart hoodie.
She was overcome with a deep carnal lust, 'I must taste him.' Her tongue flicked over her lips sensually, wetting them and making them tingley then dry as the wind caught and dried them out, cause they were dry. 'Chapstick, I also need the non digital equivalent of chapstick… Wait, tasting, right, focus.'
She leaned forward, ever so slightly, her tongue inching towards his ear.
'Must taste.'
As the slimy organ probed lightly at the delicate shell of his ear.
"WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?" Sam yelled as the motorcycled tipped wildly and spun out.
Quorra attempted to hold on, but her frail form was thrown violently from the vehicle as it slammed into the solid concrete road divider. She flew through the air, arms flailing in a desperate attempt to find purchase. Alas there was none.
"Urk," the noise gurgled, escaping her lips as she impacted with a pine tree, as she was speared by an errant branch. Blood frothed from her mouth, dripping down her chin to land on the mossy detritus of the forest floor.
"! OH EM GEE! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Sam cried, the 1337 speak giving voice to all his anguish, as the English language was insufficient. All in all it was really appropriate cuz she was, like, a computer program, right?
"Sam - I - I - I wanted you to download into me." She whispered. Sam hauled himself to his feet, running toward the iso-on-a-stick that was his girlfriend (?).
The gravel crunched under his boots as he slid the last few feet to her prone form.
"Shhh…" He placed a finger across her sanguine lips. "I still can." Tears fell from his face as he slowly unbuckled his pants.
Then he put his you-know-what in her you-know-where and made her ride it like a pro.
Her life force leaked out of her wounds, dripping on his meaty member as it slid in and out of her 'usb port'. He gasped, first as he hit a chunk of wood, then as he felt her womanhood clamp down and begin to pulsate in time with his thrusts.
"Ooooooo" Sam cried as he broke her fire wall and filled her insides with his gooey, warm data.
"Wait, what? Is that it? You mean all those videos I saw were wrong?" Quorra looked down at Sam with disdain. She met his gaze and her head shook slowly and meaningfully.
"H4x." With the last toss of her head she exhaled, the air leaking from her lungs, never to be refilled again.
And so it was with disappointment and shame, the last of the Isos died, and with her the legacy of a world.
THE END
