|| -------- -- -----  A E R I E   O B L I V I A N A . singular book of text wandertainment by Frank Edward Nora ------------------- ----------- BILLION'S DRIFTING--CUP 12--"BATHTUB AGAIN" <-------  ||  Severe Repair  ||  Billion's Drifting  ||  -------> (Cup SRbd012, Created v2 (6/7/99), Copyright 1999) = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Daptin Gone was in the bathtub in his Warhome, masturbating lazily, fantasizing about oral sex with Spanking New Sarah. God, he thought, how I wish she had zinclered onto me before I got banished from my own Land... this damn million-mile trek... it would have been perfect, just her and me, all the privacy in the world, the inner world of the Warhome... But no. The only female within... uh... 714,000 miles... was Agatha Petunia Wack... the bizarre girl he met on Rillekon's Road, the place he wound up after getting the boot from Sleap Drassy. Yeah... it wasn't that she was ugly, exactly, it was just that she had this aura... like you could just tell that sex was not something she'd even remotely consider... oh well... She said that their meeting was fortuitous--that her team, Pseudoairport, had just broken up, and she was looking for a new job. Hooking up with Daptin to save the universe seemed like a pretty good deal to her. With her considerable skills navigating the many ways of Rillekon's Road, she managed to get Daptin back to his apartment at the Greatwall Base of Overwhelm Associates... back to the Cup of Coffee... the real world strangely recovered from the reality crash... She had sent the vastly powerful artifact into a "sideplace", she said, before embarking on the mission to save Bellicose Billion, after Daptin got the psychic message from the former crewmember of the Urbandersnacheron IV. She didn't elaborate on the "sideplace" much... Daptin warned her, telling her about what happened with the Goodbye Popcorn in the Cupslipped World, but Agatha insisted it'd be alright... What else could he do but masturbate? Thinking vivid thoughts... the mind-blowing taste of her pussy... and her expert lips and tongue on his cock... unbelievable... Then his fantasy turned to the orgy going on at his Land... wondering how many of the people there were getting their share of Spanking New Sarah... all of them, he supposed... except Bellicose Billion, poor fellow, who only got the devil girl Insurance... Then he started getting angry and he came mad. It was HIS Land. His. Created by him, solely by him. But he was kicked out... party due to his own mistakes, but mostly because Sleap Drassy was more powerful than him by a long shot. To be a god... but to be a weakling compared to a woman... a weird woman... Sleap Drassy... a fucking waitress in a Hello Tarby... fuck... she gave Granticaine a note to give to him, but Granticaine kept it... what the fuck... More powerful... more powerful... what the fuck... when he was in that doctor's office as a kid... when he found out he was going to die of some random disease... Daptin realized that it was THEN that he felt most alive... the tingling excitement of still being alive... with the prospect of fighting for that life... And now... as a god... undeniably a god... with the prospect of thousands of years of youth... thousands of years of unbridled creative power... stupidity... lying back in a bathtub... his juices mingling with the water... the water created by the Warhome... created from hydrogen and oxygen... hydrogen and oxygen that might have entered the Warhome's compressed matter heap as rock, as vegetation, as earth... carbon or gold or praseodymium or whatever else... protons and neutrons and electrons ripped apart and remixed... the water... his fluids... barreling a million miles down a road in a world he couldn't even have imagined when he was human... Human... was he human? What was he? What was it that Fox had observed? That he had wondered? Whether Daptin was the Prime Creator... whether he was a pinecone... Lost... so lost... limited awareness... unanswered questions... non-omniscience... lost... and no longer human... no longer on a thin ledge between life and death... no longer worrying about the little things in life... the Warhome... catering to his every need... The Warhomes... what if one was to fall into the hands of a normal person on a normal world? With reality travellers... gods... superheroes... fantastic beings... the Warhomes were a convenience... Daptin and Agatha and Ferrajalt and Billion would probably have found another way out of their dilemma when they found themselves a million miles out on Twicvion Lane... but a normal person... a normal, fragile society... just imagine... Thinking of geometric progressions, Daptin could see that one Warhome could become ten, then a hundred, then a thousand, and on and on... until everyone would have one... no one would have to work anymore... And what would be left? Sex and romance. And exploration and freedom... but exploration and freedom might get tiresome after awhile... if it was so easy... but other people... men and women... at least the Warhome couldn't make THAT part of your life easy... -------> ------------------- ----------- -------- -- -----