Chapter Twelve: Penetration

“Your dad is a dick,” I told Ada as she unjacked me. “And why’d you jack me in anyway? I said I’m done with the Net.”

“You were exhibiting an increasing dissociation with reality,” said Aphrodyke. “Furthermore, you felt it necessary to fondle my breasts, and I therefore felt little regard for your previous request prohibiting internet connectivity.”

“Oh! You were the momma krill. Well sorry for groping you. You make one sexy little crustacean, though. Anyway, the robot god talked to me again.”

“He talked about me?” said Ada, excited. “What did he say?”

“Uh, I guess he can’t talk to you without absorbing you or something. And also he wants you to have his babies. Some kind of creepy Electra complex shit. I think he said that the robots you are building are going to give him a new internet.”

“So that is my purpose!” cried Ada. “I know why I was created!”

The old lady who had accused Aphrodyke of being a terrorist spoke up. “Wait, so that redhead is a robot? The terrorists have robots now?”

I rolled my eyes. “And what are we going to do with all of them?” I asked, gesturing to the other passengers. Three of them were passed out and being treated by some stewardesses.

“We considered depositing them on the refueling vessel,” said Aphrodyke, “however that would leave little incentive for the military to allow us to continue flying. They will remain with us on this vehicle until we land in China.”

“So great, we have hostages now. Fuck could this day get any worse?” Then there was a thud coming from above. “Why do I say shit like that? Seriously. Ada, what was that?”

“The self-analytics of the plane are showing an increase in weight of about three hundred pounds.”

“And how the fuck does an airplane flying over the Pacific Ocean suddenly get to weigh an extra two people?”

“Self-analytics can’t tell me that. That part is up to us.”

“I changed my mind. Lets you and me go to the cramped little bathroom and join the mile high club like you said earlier. I’d rather die fucking.”

“My body is not equipped with the equipment that you prefer, and Aphrodyke left her strapon back at the house. Will vaginal sex be satisfactory?”

“I was joking, Ada! We obviously have more important things to worry about. And by the way, thanks for letting this entire plane know that I like to take it in the ass from chicks with big boobs. That’s totally the information I want on the news when my parents get to find out I’m a terrorist.”

“They are terrorists!” shouted the old lady.

“God damn it, old lady! We aren’t fucking terrorists! I’m just a failure who spends half his day on the internet pretending other people are willing to touch his cock! Chill the fuck out! You have no idea what kind of day this has been!” On the plus side, the lady was silenced. But at that moment the plane also jerked violently to the left, then stabilized. My ears popped.

“Cabin pressure just dropped,” reported Ada.

But before I could question how that would happen, a familiar face was gazing at me down the aisle of the plane.

“You fucking salad-tossing trumpet-blasters are going to fucking die!” yelled General Dukakis. The passengers all cheered.

“I’ve been meaning to speak with you about that,” said Aphrodyke. “First of all, I am a lesbian. None of your homophobic insults make any sense directed at me. Carpet muncher, bulldyke, cunt licker, dildo diver, finger artist, lap lover, bus driver, twatasaurus rex, and vaginator are all appropriate, though disrespectful euphemisms. I don’t ‘toss salads’ any more than you do. Second, I do not appreciate that the most insulting concept you can conceive of is implying that we are gay. Surely diddling children or seducing grandmas must be further down the depravity scale, even to a barbarian such as yourself?”

“Shut up and die you lilac rangers!” he shouted, and came charging down the aisle.

“You have to be impressed at his gay-hating vocabulary, though,” I said to Aphrodyke.

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