Thread: Endgame Redux.
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Old October 6 2012, 10:34 AM   #7
Guy Gardener
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Re: Endgame Redux.

Part 5

Two nomads meet in the endless vista of the wasteland haggling over what’s likely a corpse.

“What is it?”

“I think it’s a girl.”

“But what is it?”

“There hasn’t been a crash.”

“I didn’t ask if there had been a crash.”

“If there had been a crash, it wouldn’t be a native.’

“But there hasn’t been a crash.’

“So it’s probably a native.”

“Under all this filth, I think it’s a native.”

“That’s what I said.”

“I don’t care, it’s obviously a native.”

“Native to this?”

“Not exactly something to be proud of.”

“That’s generous.”

“I thought so too.”

“We should ignore it.”

“After we have sex with it?’

“Of course, after we have sex with it, then we should ignore it.”

“Good. Just as long as we’re on the same page.”

“Are you sure you know how?”

“Yes. And I suppose you do?”

“I have a fair idea.”

“So why wouldn’t I have a fair idea too?”

“Their genitals are in the wrong place.”

“So it’s not really a real woman?”

“Depends on your definition.”

“Might as well be a man.”

“You might as well be a man.”

“Where am I supposed to stick it then?”

“You stick it in here, up there.”

“Base of it's neck?”

“Awkward, but not unenjoyable.”

“Might as well be a man.”

“You might as well be a man.”

“Grow up.”

“Cleaning it would take hours.”

“Waste of water.”

“Who said anything about water?”

“Looks like it has been under the sun for a week.”

“Probably thinks it’s already dead.”

“Hardly worth the effort.”

“Just to say this is something I have done, it could warm a few beds at night.”

“That’s what the otters are for.”

“Just one. We can’t even farm it.”

“They’re useless, but rare.”

“Rare? Sell it as a novelty?”

“I don’t know if I can really be bothered.”

“If we don’t take it with us, it will die.”


“If you change your mind in half an hour and come back, it’ll be too late.”

“I don’t change my mind.”

“Oh I forgot. You never change your mind.”

“Because, I never change my mind. I am a creature of intent focus.”

“But it’s dead in half an hour?”

“If that is, that it is even alive now.”

“Is it alive now?”

“Right now?”


“Yes now.”

“Is it alive?”

“That’s what I asked you.”

“I asked you first.”

“Don’t be such a child.”

“Kick it.”

“You kick it.”

“You are so lazy.”

You know how in sport when they boot a ball over a goal post, imagine something like that proportionately happening to a small human being who makes a little “grunt” when she makes planet fall a few feet away from where it painfully lifted off.


“Is it attractive?”

“I can’t tell.”

“Does it really matter?”

“Weather worn, probably scarred.”


“it’s unlikely that it’s still sane.”

“When has that ever stopped you?”

“I have standards.”

“No you don’t.”

“No I don’t, but one day I aspire to have standards.”

“I can’t even tell what pigment it’s supposed to have under all that wear and tear.”

“I’m bored about talking about sex… What does it taste like?”

“This one personally? Unless we clean it, it’s going to taste like 7 days in the desert.”

“Not this one personally. In general how do they taste?”

“How should I know?”

“Have you ever heard anyone talk about eating one of these things?”

“Never mind the taste, You couldn’t feed three men with the fat on this one.”

“You could do to lose some weight.”

“So could you. The four pounds of cheese balanced on your neck first.”

“I’m just saying that maybe we could fatten it up?”

“Or we could just eat it and anything else you’d waste to fatten it up.”

“You should write a cookbook.”

“No, you should write a cook book.”

“I know how to show a supper a good time! I always ask its opinion on the side dish, the garnish and seasoning. These creatures have uncanny intimate knowledge on how they should be eaten, and I’d be a fool not to listen to their advice.”

“You’d a fool no matter what you did.”

“I’m not eating it if you fuck it.”

“Right. Agreed, no sex with the food.”

“No sex with my food, but sure that too.”

“I’m not agreeing to anything until I see it after you’ve cleaned it up.”

“After I’ve cleaned it up?”

“If I’m cleaning it then I’m going to bugger it.”

“Hey! I have rights here!”

“You have the right to be ugly.”

“You have the right to be stupid.”

“I’d rather be ugly than stupid.”

“But you’re both ugly and stupid.”

“How about we Barbeque the limbs and keep the rest alive for sex?”

“I don’t like it when women just lay there.”

“You’re impossible.”

“So it’s unfuckable and uneatable because we’re both assholes.”

“Well isn’t that how we end most conversations.”

“Except for the conversations we end in an exhausted heap.”

“I’ve never been exhausted by you.”

“You can’t stay awake after!”

“Bored is not the same as exhausted!”


“Lets just leave it.”

“At this point in the conversation, no matter what we do we’re going to regret something.”

“What if it knows?”

“Knows what?”

“How to get down into the secret underground city.”

“The secret underground city?”

“Yes, the secret underground city!”

“The secret underground city is a myth.”

“Then where do the natives come from?”

“Over there somewhere.”

“There is no over there somewhere, this is a dead planet.”

“So there’s a secret underground city?”

“There’s probably a secret underground city.”

“And it could be all ours?”

“All ours.”

“We just have to beat the directions out of it.”

“So now it’s an investment?”

“An opportunity.”

‘We could charm it.”

“Take too long. Just start kicking, and keep kicking until you have an answer or a dead body.”

“If it knows?”

“What do you mean if?”

“A week , longer walking in circles in the desert. Brain’s boiled out it’s ears.”

“Has to be lost.”

“It’s mad.”

“Probably couldn’t find its own asshole.”

“It knows nothing.”

“Pitty. I could have done with a secret underground city. I’m really a secret underground city sort of person.”

“I feel for you.”

“We could chuck it on the bonfire when we get back to camp?”

“Keep the bastard burning for another 20 minutes.”

“The sound of that is probably more soothing than your singing voice.”

“Then it doesn’t have to be alive.”

“Easier to transport dead.”

“Some of them are supposed to be mind readers.”


“Bullshit… But imagine negotiating sales if we knew our opposition’s thoughts.”

“Too dangerous. If it can read our thoughts, maybe it can kill us in our dreams.”

“That tiny thing? Kill us? It’s female.”

“Your cock is not going to defend you from being stabbed when you’re asleep.”

“If a woman kills a man, it’s not a happy or long life it’s got in store for itself from a legal standpoint.”

“Women do stupid things every day.”

“What? You’re a woman?”

“You’re a woman.”

“If I was a woman, I’d be a better woman than you were.”

“I’d have twice as many babies as you and my boobs would be bigger!

“Well, I’d menstruate longer and harder and brighter you ever could.”

“Really? Brighter?”

“Like magenta, or hot pink or neon or I don’t know, shut up.”

“I’m not sure this is a fight either of us want to win.”

“That’s quitters talk.”

“What are we going to do with it?

“I just want to walk away.”

“Have sex with it and then walk away.”

“I agree. I’ll go first.”

“No, I’ll go first.”

“We could just have sex with it at the same time from different ends?”

“Top and bottom or front and back?”

“Why not left and right?”

“You are such a lawyer.”

“And you are such an asshole.”

“Maybe it has an opinion?

“If it was allowed an opinion, it would have been born a man.”

“It’s an alien, why should it understand a truly civilized society with proper rules that put the genders in the right place.”

“We have to educate it?”

“We don’t even know if it can speak or read.”

“So we have to educate it a lot.”

“I swear, I thought we were supposed to something worthwhile today?”

“You grab its feet, I’ll grab its wrists, and then we’ll have sex with it when we get back to camp.”

“We could probably sell it for more if we didn’t have sex with it at all.”

“Is that why you couldn’t sell your mother?”

“No, but it’s how I paid for you off your grandmother.”

"My grandmother is a handsome woman and you couldn't handle her."

“But if it gets too heavy halfway there, we just drop it and carry on?”

“Look, we can probably trade it with someone for a new belt, maybe even a knife, and all before it even wakes up so let’s stop clowning around.”

“GOD! This is like work!”

“20 minutes, we’re home. It’s all over.”



"Who gets the new belt?”

“We’ll take turns.”

“That seems fair.”
"Glitter is the herpes of arts and craft."

Troy Yingst. My Life as Liz
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