"Fuck yeah…I haven't felt this good since I swam the lubrication lakes of Orgasmopolis with the Grand Fellatrix of Twatmar!"
Space Admiral Rodcocker leaned back, exhaling sharply as the two-headed slurpserpeant serviced him. One of the blue-haired slave girls shifted her weight so Rodcocker could rest his head in her lap, and her electric fingers moved deftly, massaging his scalp with orchestral virtuosity.
A fingertip pressed lightly on his lips gently reminded Rodcocker to open his mouth again as another slave girl fed him a candied fig. She was instructed to alternate between the Space Admiral and his tiger, feeding a plump, juicy fig to the slobbering feline for every one Rodcocker gobbled. The Space Admiral's tiger was named Buddard Stark, and he enjoyed the perks that came with being the First and Favored Animal in the Admiral's menagerie. Slaves attended to Buddard as well, offering him tokes of catnip from an eleborate hookah as they stroked his paw pads.
The Space Admiral needed this repose. The last Great Fuck he'd enjoyed had been in 3166, when he jumped the Time Humper forward several centuries for the opportunity to engage in a bukkake ceremony with the clone of Molly Ringwald. Rodcocker had always admired her fat, dick-sucking lips, and spraying a liberal amount of intergalactic splooge on her face had been on his agenda ever since he briefly stopped in 1985 to buy a new uniform designed by the Artist Formerly Known As Prince.
But Rodcocker should have known he'd be interrupted – despite strict orders to Major Taintlicker that he not be disturbed, Rodcocker heard the harsh chime of the Time Humper's intraship messaging service.
"Sir?" Taintlicker's voice was nervous. "I think you'd better take this call."
The Space Admiral ordered the message relayed on-screen in his quarters and told the slave girls to continue servicing him as the link was established.
Rodcocker flinched as the image materialized on-screen.
"Luschek the Luschekian," the Space Admiral said by way of greeting. "I should have known."
The Luschekian raised a hand in acknowledgement, his face partially obscured by a complex network of tubes and mouthpieces that snaked into his helmet, feeding him narcotics.
"We had an agreement, Space Admiral," the Luschekian said, vaporizer smoke escaping from his lips as he spoke. "You cannot take the Time Humper into the Earth System without signing off on the purchasing agreement. Such is the toll for gaining access to Earth."
Rodcocker spat.
"I don't want your fucking heroin, Luschekian scum!"
Luschek the Luschekian laughed: "Suddenly you've developed scruples Rodcocker?"
The slave girls jumped as Rodcocker slammed his fist down on a table adjacent to the massage bed.
"It's Space Admiral Rodcocker to you, Luschekian! And scruples have nothing to do with it. That heroin is shit! I had to slash prices in half to get rid of that last shipment!"
The Luschekian grinned, then paused to take a long draw from a strawberry-red vapor tube feeding into his helmet.
"You're free to turn down my offerings, of course…" the Luschekian said. For the first time, Rodcocker noticed two figures in the background behind Luschek – one was urinating, sending an impressive arc into the mouth of the other while a small company of men and women dressed like Victorian-era nobility looked on, clapping politely.
"…but if you'd ever like to see your precious Edwina again, I'd reconsider."
The Luschekian cackled, and before Rodcocker had a chance to respond, the screen went blank.
-
Back and forth, back and forth. Like humping hamsters, back and forth!
Suzanne finished the far section of the bathroom floor, then wiped her brow. As usual, Mr. Mop protested as she dunked his head into the bucket. He came up gasping, rancid water dripping from filthy strands of hair.
"You think this is a game?" Mr. Mop asked her, his tone mocking.
Suzanne ignored him.
"Vee was nothing. Vee was small time, just practice. Practice for the real game…the Time Hump Chronicles!"
"STOP IT!" Suzanne screamed, smacking Mr. Mop's head against the toilet stall.
Suzanne heard keys jingling, and turned to see Mr. Healy, his face poking into the bathroom from the hall.
"Everything all right in here, Warren?"
"Yes, Mr. Healy."
Healy smiled.
"Remember, Warren, when life gives you lemons, bring them back and get figs!"
The counselor's face lit up with a self-satisfied grin, and he was gone.
"That man doesn't make sense," Mr. Mop said.
"He talk platitude!" Chang called from one of the stalls in the far end of the bathroom, before releasing a cannonade that struck water like a belly flopping diver.
"That was nasty!" Suzanne called over her shoulder.
"You nasty!" Chang replied, sounding strained.
Suzanne spun around, a reply already forming on her lips when she noticed a handful of crumpled papers near the door. The Time Hump Chronicles – Fan Fiction Chapter 3, the first page read.
"Ugh! Can people just stop with the fan fiction already? I'll put out a new chapter when I…"
Suzanne stopped mid-sentence and put her mop down. There, plain as day, was the first line of the chapter: "SPACE ADMIRAL RODCOCKER IS COMING FOR YOU!"
