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Shee-it! What’s da book about?

Eh, you don’t have to have read the first one to understand this story; that is, if this story can even be understood. So, Robo Kong is at the arcade playin’ his favorite pinball machine, Show Girls. His friend Johnny shows up but suddenly gets killed by a bullet through the head. Robo Kong is grief stricken, having seen his friend’s brains explode. So, he hunts down that damned assassin to exact revenge. The story gets side tracked here and there with hot tubs’n other nonsense like sperm possessing witches and Natalie Portman clones- but that’s how most stories go.

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SAMPLE, NOW!

The pinball machine rocked on its feet.

Damn, the last ball; better make it count! Gotta get dat high score. Iz just gotta!

Robo Kong- fer those dat don’t know- was half King Kong and half robot, following a horrible accident where he was killed, and a military company used his corpse to try out some robotic sci-fi shit.

Arcade Shot!

Robo Kong focused his mystical power on the game. Powers obtained from technological absurdities which were fused to his gorilla DNA chains.

He hoped to beat the top score of his favorite pinball machine ‘Show Girls’- Yeah, the movie- cause dat’s a game worth fuckin’ playin! He’d been playin’ now for seventeen hours.

The leading score was held by David Hasselhoff.

There we go keep it off the bumper. You’re going down, Hasselhoff, you beach runnin’ fool!

The pinball rolled- setting off lights and makin’ them number scores roll.

Just’a hundred more points.

BING! The ball came flying at the bumpers.

“Shit, Fuck!”

The steel ball fell in that divine gap between them.

Game over blinked in hypnotic illumined letters.

“Damn.”

“Hey Robo Kong; you get the high score yet?”

Robo Kong turned. Seeing his friend, he said, “Oh, hey Johnny; no, not yet. Was a hundred points away. What’re you doin’ here on a Tuesday afternoon? Shouldn’t you be carvin the waves?”

Johnny, a rail thin teen, held a surf board under his arm. “Not today. The FBI has a new case fer me.”

“Is it to help me beat the high score?” Robo Kong asked.

“No, but I do need your help.”

“Hit me. What’s the mish? I could use some gun play. Haven’t killed anyone, not even a mutant, in days.”

BLAM! Blood soaked Robo Kong’s face. What the…?

Johnny fell to the ground. A bullet hole smoked in his forehead.

You Wanna read MORE?

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Buy my Shit!
LOOK HERE, NEED MONEY FER BOOZE’N DRUGS. GOTTA’ GET’A HOT TUB’N SOME BITCHES, BUT NEED TA SELL BOOKZ TA DO DAT. -Bridget Chase-

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I’d also like to Welcome
Redhat Dick to the TEAM!

Check out his author page!

‘Need money ta’ make Clones; Natalie Portman clones to be exact. Gotta sell’a lot of books. Help a feller out. Science’n shit ain’t easy…’ -Redhat Dick-

 

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