Futures End: Grayson #1

Five years ago, the world as we know it ceased to be. Luckily, the world as we know it from The Road Warrior came into being. Many people were prepared for this turn of events. Too bad those people were geeks and nerds without any real survival skills. Tragically, they were all rape-murdered by corporate CEOs who, it turned out, were the biggest sociopaths on the planet. Some nerds and geeks survived longer than others due to their proficiency at oral sex. But even these desperate, shameless nerds could not last for long. Eee! Tess Ate Chai Tea gave and gave and gave but eventually, as he knew deep down would happen, he used a little too much teeth. He was thrown into Lightning Dome, a more terrifying version of Thunder Dome, where twenty combatants entered and nineteen left. Mostly because the nineteen were working together to fightfuck the lone other. Eee! Tess Ate Chai Tea lasted thirteen minutes, a good showing but not good enough to be remembered for more than the long weekend.

As it turned out, some of the most depraved and richest CEOs were the biggest fans of Eee! Tess Ate Chai Tea. When the updates stopped (for, you see, DC Comics continued to publish during these post-apocalyptic times although their market share was now worse than Dynamite. In their defense, Gail Simone was being forced to write all of the titles deep within Dynamite headquarters, and all of the titles featured naked lesbians as every character), the CEOs grew desperate for the only written entertainment they could stomach. A new Tess was needed. And who better to take over the job than the monster that delivered the death thrust to Tess, Goggles McDeathhurt.

And now, five years later, Goggles McDeathhurt and Clorox Cola Theater Present: HOLY FUCK! Don't Put That There Chai Tea!

Welcome back, Scanners! Everduster all good und fuckity fucked on dat sweetsy Rat Wine tanight? Da Old Goggs can hears dems street celebrations allaways ups in hers cozy broadcastin' closet, eh? Oh na na! Nones ya all be finking bout tryin ta figger out where Old Goggs be, ya devils. Everduster jess needa know she all up in dem clouds mit her mighty tenna, spreadin' The Goddess's massage of cool, comfortin' toughts of a Promise of da happy endins.

Dis here old Goggs gotsta wonders, true, what all ya monsters down dere in da spaces between fink ya gots ta celebrate dough, feels? I supposin the Formertimes and the world what was didna zactly treat alla ya all likem ya fought it shoulda, ja? Times was, ya jess bustin' tables, surfin' costumers, dealin' drogs, racin' toddlers, und fightin' for da koku and da dignity and da freedim ta be who ya gotsta be. Perhappens it be easier fightin' mit sticks y bricks and bones y stones den mit words and customs and uniforms and koku acause nowadust, ya ain't gotsta grovel if'n ya gots da big enough cajones, ja? Right libertatin, is what it is, sees? Only jess gotsta suck onna dat Rat Wine couragem and go gets what ya wants more den dat nex putz wants it, sees? Formertimes, dey keepin' ya real fortitudes down deep, afeared ta be ya real selfs acause ya neighbor gonna tell tales, und yer wife gonna get bitter, and yer boss gonna humiliatem ya all up in front of yer peers. Fo reals, mayhappen now ya gots some scars all up on yer preshy face, feels? Eh, but at leassem dem scars show yer sterny stuffs, ja? Ever unna dem scars tells peeps what be what. Lasts, no more cowerin' and hidin' and bein' all shamefaced bout yer truest face. So mayhappen Old Goggs do gets why ya tearin' up the spaces between down dere at da base a her tower celebratin' da end of dem Goddess-forsaken Formertimes and da beginnings of dese long, dark Dusty Stretches. Happy Cinco Round Trips, ya Mopes!

Even afore I gets ta dis weeks littyrature selection, Old Goggs wantta ya all ta know ifn ya gots some questyuns for Old Goggs, she be sendin' her recortin' drone down ta fift and fift amorrow. Recortin' drone be down dere mossa day, hoverin' bout ten footmeters ups, sos shout yer questions loud as can roar, ja? Donna nonaya git ta bein' dumb dumbs, feels? Any all ya monster takem shots at my merde, jess know Old Goggs recortin' drone also bes a vestybull of dirty rads. Anydust, plays nice and askem dem questyuns. Looksee here as wells und please tryem und askem one per time, sees it?

Loopy bandysnatch corpses it on da end of a slack hangerman's noose? Assholes!

Dis here issue be callin ittelf "Only A Place For Dying." Everduster finks mos' places be dat nows, sees it? Mossa us dunnit calls em da Dusty Stretches cause dey fullup of bobins and fields mice, eh? Forhaps deadly robo-bobins and exploderatin' fields mice, if ya happens ta axdentally find yoselfs in Upper Kinder Camp. It dat no-no-land be da biggie place for dying, fo sure.

Needy on da survivors 'vice from Old Goggs, wot? Knowem dis: Don't axdentally find yoselfs in Upper Kinder Camp.

Ya knows where Old Goggs gots dis littyrature for dis broadcast todays, eh? A preshy gift fromma Prof back when wes earlytimes met, beaten back da masses what lost dere minds inna first wave a riots.

Celebratin' Day ain't no times fer visitin' da cursed dreamsland, what mit all dat drunkend cacaphonies. Only good parts bout it, guess. Reals, though, nobody never wants ta git dem good old peace dreams no mores, sees it? Plentytimes, Old Goggs ain't too hard ta 'mit, she wakey up mit a smile on her face what completely ruinem her entire day affer. Seein' what was dat were all suns and gardens. Escapin' da Dusty Stretches ain't a joy when it be jess da mos' fleetin' a moments, feels me? Damn cursed dreamsland. Jess fuckin keep Old Goggs kitten friends in da forgottens Formertimes where deys blongs, ja? Ain't no place for dem sweetums here 'cept in somedem assholes belly bags.

Old Goggs cain't be talkin' bout dis here littyrature toos much today, sees it? Leaves her finkin' on Prof and Earlytimes and takin' ol' Saints Lois by da froat and by the cunny and makin' her ours. Damn site, dat old fuckin' city affer wes done tooks it over. Gotsta says it, no humbles, we gots dat place good und preggers mit our philosodogmas, sees it? Onny peeps makin' dere ways in old Saints Lois affer da finishup a dat firs year were doin' what Old Goggs and The Prof says dey were doin. Gettin a look at dat girl back den, pa wud haffta 'mitted he were mighty big times wrong bout callin' Goggles "sweety" fo alla dem years. Goddess rest his hearts. Soakin' 'em in piss und bloods, highest hopes!

Dumb bullshits. Only Prof wud fink dis shit were entertations.

Nowadust, Goggles blew on, sees it? Eastward. Course ya curiousers wanna know 'zactly where Old Goggs now nests, ja? Up, up, and ups amidst da sky touchers of Old York where, offentimes, her recortin' drone come buzzin' round to hear dem lower voices. Talkin, alls she does now. Talk, talk, talkin. I spose, jess sometimes, when her dear ol' pockets start chirpin' fer worms, Old Goggs gets back ta the oldtimiest profession, feels it? Not that, ya harpers! Beatin' da eversmokin' shits outta some poor diehard fought he gonna catch a livin' offa some grubergang runnin' Old York.

Anydust, mayhappen Goggs should say somefin bouts The Profs pick of littyratures, just acause. It seems sillilicious mit dat robin costumes and dem Batputers but dis here books gots some kinda hearts in it, reals. Tellin' us a tale dat sayin' somefin akin ta dis here:

Da end ain't never gotta be da end, feels? Anyduster come ta a place of dying, dey comin' ta dat place unprepared, sees? Havin' jess da one dusty path ta da grave is da fault of da soon ta be corpse not preppin' dem hidden shortcuts afore hands. Open youse eyes. Opens youse minds allup. Keeps yer heads and yer loyals and yer ammunitions vested. Be better, bigger, beaster den da ovver guy. Escapem if ya gotsta, course, cause beatin' hearts be better den puffin' up chests. It never 'gain gonna be dem Formertimes when ya could be softs, and be unprepareds, and sits mit yer coffee und yer papers und yer cynically cool tude. Never again. Do whats ya gotsta do. All ways, every ways. Whatevems is needed to keep dem feets one in fronta da ovver. And never be sorry for it. Tellin' ya straights up. Everduster livin' dis way now and not a ting is yours, not even youse life. Remember how softs we alls are on da insides. Softs, ya feels?

Need me some Rat Wine, I finks. Old Goggs gonna go get fuckity fucked now. We sees ya next time, rights?