DQN Short Novel (Part 22)
The GSL comes dangerously close to not only destroying the fourth wall, but the fifth and sixth and all subsequent walls as well. Fortunately, the chapter ends abruptly before any meta-disaster, real or imagined, can occur.
This chapter probably contains 78 posts, 2074 words and 9847 characters (without spaces). I didn't count very carefully.
Chapter 5. The Dreaded Penis Flytrap
"Sweetness and light" she said to herself, replaying in her mind a conversation she'd had with the screaming tentacle monster from the twelfth plane of torment. All things considered, the GSL was quite traveled. She had tasted more sugary tentacles than the average young girl. She had heard more emotional screams than the typical heroine. Soft ideas flitted through her dainty head. Though a deity by profession and technician by action, she was an artist at heart. She craved creative release. Taking a break from the business of the universe, she opened a word processor and began to type:
The Dreaded Penis Flytrap
by the GSL
Sweetness and light are nowhere to be found on the twelfth plane of torment, where this tale of forbidden love triangles and tentacles takes place.
Pairings: Screaming Tentacle Monster/Muffled Screaming T.M./Grand Heavenly Little Lady
Trigger warnings: teeth-on-phallus, bloodplay, vore, bestiality, necrophilia
Prologue
It was a dark morning as usual on the twelfth plane, or P12 as its inhabitants affectionately called it, and the Screaming Tentacle Monster arose yawning in a pitch no higher than A'''. Lying next to him, still snoring peacefully (or as peacefully as one can snore with a tentacle blocking one nostril), was a DQN with an attitude. The DQN woke up with a start and asked,
"is there truly any freedom from the systems of control?" He prepared the heroin deftly.
"Prepare! Prepare! Prepare!" screamed the screaming tentacle monster's tentacles.
Suddenly, the DQN's internal organs threw it on the ground, because you can never trust the system. This includes one's own cardiovascular and nervous systems. And thus, the entire length of the DQN's blood vessels scuttled off down a dark nearby alley, cackling nefariously.
Meanwhile, on Holy Terra, the God Emperor of Man slowly began to shift on his Golden Throne...he had waited 10,000 years for his 500 GET and he was damned well going to enjoy it. Little did he know, posting in the wrong thread is a good idee! And his 500 GET was stolen from him, just like that.
The GSL stopped typing. These were not her words. This was not her keyboard. She wasn't even sure if these were her own hands. She looked at the hands in front of her and traced the arms back to the body they were attached to. It was the Great Sky Shota, attempting to write his mindless drivel and publish it as the GSL's in order to get on her nerves and thus disguise his budding crush for the young lady. Yes, the GSS had been quite tsundere for the GSL ever since the Magic Butt had soared over the castle on a turbulent column of oregano.
As the GSL turned to glare at the GSS, he shouted out,
"I-it's not like I wrote this for y-you, y-you FARGING BASTAGE!" He then roughly grabbed her heaving shoulders, ripping off her thin tin foil wrapping. After which he began to vigorously whisk some eggs in preparation for the Omelette Of A Lifetime contest. All his hopes rested on his ability to time the flip. You only got one chance, and it had to be perfect.
According to his calculations, 2 + 2 did actually equal 5. Mathematicians everywhere proceeded to tell him why he's an idiot. Miraculously, he managed to time the flip perfectly, despite the mathematicians' constant beration. The GSL watched in amazement as the eggy mass arced lithely and gracefully through the air, like a wet grey sock limping through fields of wart-covered toads in the pungent springtime. At that moment, the closest Mathematician gave him a hard shove, causing him to miss the falling omelette. Instead, he embarrassingly landed face first in the GSL's knee. He lost several teeth and his cool.
"Thbfhat's it!" he blubbered, blood spewing from his frothing jaw. "Thfime to bweak out my secwet weapon: a Calphalon waffle iron. He got it as a gift from his recently deceased skin cell, Jack. Oh Jack, you will be missed..."
"Why are you referring to yourself in the third person?" demanded the GSL. The omelette was still falling. So was the very soul of the GSS. This was it, it was all lost. He watched slowly as the omelette went closer and closer to the ground. But suddenly, out of nowhere...a razorback hog rocketed into the kitchen and intercepted the omelette, swallowing it whole before it could touch the ground.
"Goscone, my hog!" exclaimed the GSS. "All is saved!" He tossed the Calphalon waffle iron. It spun and comically bounced off the mathematicians, the GSL and everybody else in the vicinity before swooshing back into the Shota's hand like a genocidal boomerang. He scooped up Goscone under his arm and left the crime scene hastily.
The first one to wake up was the God Emperor. And, boy, was he pissed about missing his 500 GET after waiting 10,000 years for it. He called all of his soldiers together and said, "Fuck it, we goin' to jail!"
They then proceeded to fuck shit up. While shit was being upfucked, the Great Sky Shota and his trusty hog Goscone were busy giving Goscone's giant, filthy Habitrail tubes and cages a thorough, much-needed scrubbing.
"Goscone," the GSS said, "you've got to leave and never come back. I don't want to see your disgusting face anymore."
"Ha! I'm just kidding, you're great!" Goscone barely even looked back at GSS's predictable teasing and got back to power-washing the interior of his giant pig ball.
Meanwhile, in another thread: (・∀・) words words words
But then, ( ´ω`) words words words B^U
"No, you fool!" exclaimed yet another mathematician, "Don't you know any set theory at all‽ Surely it's obvious that you can't take anything to the power of a union!" The mathematicians were becoming more and more troublesome. It was time for them to disappear. The GSL snapped her fingers at them while winking and with an Akari~n, they were gone.
However, not even the GSL could violate the law of conservation of mass, though it certainly could violate her. In place of the vanished mathematicians, an equal amount of mass appeared in the hideous form of a large, silver crow. It spread its legs and invited the GSS in. So she crawled up into its ass. Francis Bacon also happened to be inside the crow's ass.
"Shove over, Francis," shouted the Great Sky Loli, "It's my turn to pilot this thing." She pushed Francis out of the way and sat down in the AssPilot seat.
'I DID NOT INVITE YOU I INVITED THE GSS' boomed the silver crow's internal voice.
"Whatever, my brother's too busy playing with his beloved razorback hog Goscone. N-not like I care about that b-baka brother of mine!"
Cheeks blushing a deep red, the ever-tsundere Great Sky Loli seized control of the Silver Crow and flew off into the sky, setting a direct course to the past - or was it the future? At any rate, she intended to go back to about 150 posts ago and claim the 400 GET.
Her plan got off to a rocky start when when she forgot to bring Rocky IV to play on her portable DVD player during the long ride. Francis tried in vain to masturbate furiously to works of classical art, but the GSL had banned lewdness on the flight. "Please keep your arms inside the vehicle and out of your pants at all times," said the moe deity. Yet despite the lack of Rocky IV, the Silver Crow arrived soon enough, without incident, at >>391. (Somewhat miraculously, given the amount of twists so far.)
The GSL surveyed the situation. Appropriately, it seemed she was at a meeting for the Intertemporal Association of Time Travelers. She quickly tried to blend in the crowd, quietly poised to nab the 400 get in 9 posts. Francis went to an unused meeting room and masturbated angrily. The moment his semen touched the floor a low rumbling could be heard for meters. The meeting room had gained sentience. He said in his loud booming voice "Thank you for giving me life, now I will celebrate with a generous donation of PCP and sperm for everybody to share! Also I think the GSL is probably going to miss getting that 400GET so you should probably get out of her way in case she throws a tantrum or something."
Francis wondered what the room meant by "everybody." Did he mean everybody inside him? Well, that would just mean Francis and saying "everybody" in reference to one person is just silly. Did he mean everybody in the world? That would require way too much PCP and sperm, so that couldn't be it. Francis thought and thought and came to the conclusion that by "everybody" he meant everybody mentioned in the last few parts of the story. However, Francis' masturbatory train of thought was soon rudely interrupted by Jock Johnson, also known as Eddie Murphy's penis, time traveler extraordinaire:
"Gentlemen!" he began, "The time has come for everything! We're fucking time travelers, ain't we?" After a rousing cheer from the audience, he continued: "Now, let's all go back in time and kill one another, making sure to leave corpses in every single historical location ever featured in a textbook!" Jock still hadn't quite gotten over that grudge against his seventh-grade history teacher.
The other time travellers were a little uncomfortable with the prospect of mass suicide, so, not wanting to hurt Jock's feelings, they applauded politely and briefly before quickly turning their attentions to the snack bar, which had just been restocked by the sentient unused meeting room next door. Noticeably absent in the scene despite having made trip through time in the anus of a large metal bird specifically to be there at that place at that time was the GSL. She had been distracted by the shiny golden 555 GET dangling from a not so shiny 556 GET. And so this trope was once again interrup--
"Wait a minute," exclaimed the GSL. "That 555 GET was connected to a 556 GET, which in turn was connected to a 557 GET, 558 GET... Do you realise what this means?"
The time travellers were too busy hallucinating that they were the cast of Legend of the Galactic Heroes to respond, so she continued.
"This is all just a thread on the internet! Each post adds a new line or two, adding their own contributions to this absurd tangled mess of a story. We aren't real! We're just fictional characters!"
*Editor's note: Remove the last section
Francis unpinned the small rectangular note from the front of the refrigerator, and couldn't sleep that night for thinking deeply what the "last section" could refer to, and what would happen if he didn't remove it. He decided he would take it to band practice the next day. "Norman's usually good at this sort of thing" he thought. The next morning, rather predictably, the sun rose.
Francis sleepily pulled on his teeth and brushed his trousers. With eyes 40% closed, he drifted aimlessly to the shower, which he ate slowly, and then down to breakfast, under which he stood while scrubbing his body. The commute was forgettable. He arrived late to band practice due to an unfortunate incident which will be described in more detail in the next chapter, although somewhat metaphorically.
"Norman! We must remove the last section!" he cried, fearing he may be too late. The band stopped playing. Norman lowered his conductor's wand like an angry magician, and turned with fiery eyes to glare at Francis.
"Bacon! You're late!"
"Remove the last section!" repeated Francis breathlessly. He wasn't sure how many more exclamation marks he could handle.
"What on earth are you talking about?" demanded Norman. "The last section is on its way to Sheboygan already!"
Francis briefly wondered what a train conductor would need a wand for, and then listened 2 nirvana n smoked a fat spliffff with Norman while they waited for the End. He wasn't sure how one was supposed to spend what was most likely the last day of the universe, but this seemed a good idea as any.
And so the last section sped off to Sheboygan, due to arrive the next day. At this rate, it seemed there was no chance of stopping it, unless one had the power to somehow end the chapt
