DQN Short Novel (Part 24)

DQN Short Novel

Wherein the reader learns about Squeeks' heritage and the religious delusions of sentient nanotechnology.

This chapter contains 46 posts, 689 words and 4056 characters.

Chapter 8: Over the River and Through The Hair

Zaza-yalaraaa! Hossein, bubbu! Guya, guya!

The dreaded river wheel had returned, furiously tumbling and crushing everything in its path. Suddenly, Cthulu. Additionally, Hastur. And Nyalathotep. And Cthugha. And perhaps maybe even a couple of shoggoths for some reason. All of them, crushed by the river wheel. And that wheel keeps on turning. Who knows where it goes?

Meanwhile, at the Galactic Core, Billy was trying to find his glasses, which is all that mattered at the moment, for it was the very moment that the rest of this sentence - and perhaps even this paragraph, chapter or book - will spend describing.

The glasses in question were in fact the very same spectacles FUCK wore when he slew the vicious SHIT of ASSTOWN in chapter 837 of the BOOK OF CUNT. It just so happens that long ago, the BOOK OF CUNT used to be known as the DQN Short Novel. At that time, nobody dreamed that the short novel would ever reach such lengths, or come to be known by such a lewd name.

Despite squeeks laid down in his lonely bed, weeping lonely tears, hugging his lonely blanket, when suddenly ten trillion angry Muslims burst through his chest. "lately orthodox jews have been wearing burka's too! we are losing our cultural identity!" they shouted as they abruptly came to the realisation that they were actually a sinister swarm of nanobots. Each one armed with a microscopic scimitar and AK-47.

Realising the social faux pas they had made by impersonating Muslims, they apologised profusely to everyone within earshot and sheepishly crawled back into Squeeks' chest.

Squeeks briefly wondered at the mild itch on his chest, then scratched vigorously before turning around three times and going to sleep.

The next morning, Squeeks' mother didn't bother him at all. She was too busy doing motherly things. His father, however, was busy getting drunk in the bar and fucking hookers. Squeeks' father was a stern man, with a voice that could mollify anyone due to the striking similarity it shared with Barry White's voice.

In contrast, Squeeks' mother presented a very loving character. It was no surprise the two had come together in mutual affection. Mutual, anyway, insofar as his father could find time to play the fatherly role between all that drinking and adultery. But, as expected, his mother was very forgiving, inhumanly so, perhaps, such that to say nothing of her husband's overt disregard for the bonds of a sound marriage, she would even venture so far as to forgive what copious abuse of commas the author had just employed.

Squeeks himself didn't particularly take after either of his parents. He was more the fruitcake and cookies type. In other words, he was an average "fruit". Whenever he could afford to, he'd travel to conventions where fellow fruits would dress up like various kinds of fruit and have sex with each other. His parents didn't partiularly care; after all, the entire world was going to come to an end again.

Meanwhile, in Liechtenstein, Baron Von Scheiss was busy in his castle working on a new scat porn for Germans. His butler, Theodore, was somewhat constipated, so he inserted something in his anus which was called a "cell phone," whatever the fuck that is.

He reclaimed his hate for his enemy and began furiously gathering together an army of discarded cubicle cutlery and other eating utensils, including but not limited to long thin forks with a little bump on the end which looks more like a mistake than artistic design, short spoons which are just a little too wide to comfortably fit in one's mouth, long spoons which are just a little too thin to pick anything up, dull knives, plastic sporks whose fork tines have snapped off, and a confusingly extended pitchfork with teeth too wide to be practical.

Combining all of these with his old, nearly dead dog and a damp clone of his old, nearly dead dog, Theodore prototyped his kernelsprite and entered the Medium, whereupon he vanished and was never seen again.

The next day, the cell phone rang.

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