Get in Line, Oppenheimer 4

As you can probably tell from this being a short time later, I have at least survived the events I was telling you about. So I guess the continued existence of this endeavor is a spoiler alert. This may disappoint you, especially those of you who do not like me. To the first group, I say that my continued existence does not disappoint me. To the second group, I would like to extend an invitation for you to enter a zoo in the middle of the day while drawing a lot of attention and then engage in sexual congress with yourself forcefully enough to induce anal leakage for up to a month afterwards.

Then go fuck yourselves.

If you must know, they put heavy metal shackles around my wrists, took my belt off, and escorted me to an officer who appeared to be in charge based on his massive shoulderpads. Also, he was seated. I think the two are connected, as I doubt he could even get through the doors on the ship with those things. Command weighs heavily I’ve heard.

“This is the lawyer?” he asked his men, who nodded an affirmative. “He doesn’t look like much of a lawyer.”

“Trust me, I’m a fantastic lawyer. You wouldn’t believe how much corpus I habeus and I have a lot of experience with mens that aren’t very sano,” I responded.

The member of my escort with the slightly larger shoulder pads spoke up, “His Latin checks out, sir.”

“Yes, I see that. Very well, Psychopomp Gecko. What can you do for us?”

This was the tricky part. I had to open up my connection and try to be heard around as much of the world as possible. I needed to send this signal to any civilized area with wifi, as well as the U.S. and Middle East. “Alright, first off, we’ll have to do something about those pesky loopholes. Like satire. Did you know that as long as people make fun of you and your oversized armor you have no legal recourse?”

“Is that true?” he asked as he looked towards a smaller man on the bridge who was wearing what looked like a leather Nazi officer uniform. I butted in first.

“It is. Your hands can’t fit all the way into those gauntlets with those sizes. Depending on how short you are, you may not match up to your codpieces there either. Must make it hard to unscrew the things for a bladder drain, right?”

“Actually, we just urinate into a bag in our suits.”

“Right, so you guys aren’t even trusted with your own bladder control. Here in our time, that’s a basic criteria for not wimping out. For you, it’s just normal to piss yourselves.”

“I feel you are being disrespectful.”

“I apologize. Now let me reach for my fly. If it’s not disrespectful for you guys to pee while standing around talking to each other, I might as well mark an area here while relieving myself.”

“Take him to the brig.”

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” I said to countermand his order. You say something like that, people get interested in a hurry if they have any intelligence.

“Why not?” said the commander-in-shoulderpads. He narrowed his eyes and gritted his teeth. It would have been menacing if he didn’t look like he really, really wanted to jerk himself around. Maybe they put chainsaw blades on that too.

“Because your men are unarmed, for starters,” I said to his confusion, then looked around. His men were indeed unarmed. They instinctively pointed their weapons at me, but instead they held ox-like creatures that weighed them down, kicked at them, and began to run amok on the bridge. I looked back to the commander’s face, which sparkled. “Fanfic writers influencing the cultural legacy of space marines so that when someone creates them far down the line, they create the better known versions made up by the millions of people rather than the version some company put out that was turned into you. Problem is, there are these things called typos, so now you go into battle with gnus.” I could see the vein throbbing on the commander’s reddened forehead even as the critters stumbled around, kicked, and generally reeked of alcohol. “Correction,” I added, “loaded gnus.”

“Get him the hell out of here!” He yelled, showing a pair of fangs to match his sparkly skin. My guards were too busy butchering the wild gnus, so the Nazi drew his laser pistol and began to lead me out, even as the words “Team Edward” appeared on his otherwise stylish cap.

“You will be executed for this heresy.” He hissed at me as he lead me further into the ship.

“Fair warning, no one’s executing me today,” I told him.

“You think that do you?”

“Oh yes, the space marines ought to be showing up before long.”
“You addle brain. The space marines have captured you.”

“Listen, Herr future zpace Nazi, zere are other ideas about zpace marines out zere, zome predating yourz. If you come to assert dominance over them in these times, it’ll wipe them out, so they’ll likely show up to stop you at some point. Odds are on my side-“ I had to stop while trying to keep my balance when an explosion rocked the ship, providing a convenient underscore to my warning. As the Nazi and I recovered, I turned and saw he held his pistol outstretched towards me. I leapt and wrapped my legs around his head and arm, locking them into a triangle shape as I fell back, my upper back against the ground. He fired at me a few times, missing once and burning through my visor to take out my eye, but the shot didn’t manage any further.

I released him once he lost conciousness, stood up, and told him, “You just got knocked the fuck out!” His laser made a handy restraint removal device. Then I noticed him begin to stir. “Did I tell you you could wake up yet?” One boot to the head got the point across and sent him back to peaceful slumber.

I had two options then. Either go back and try to grab my belt with all my disposable gear, or not. I sent out the signal to the device in my belt that triggered a self destruct. But Gecko, you might ask, why run around with explosives so close to your crotch? Good question, I would say, but not all explosives go off if they are jostled, or shot, or caught by an explosion. Some, like those involving small nuclear detonations, need to be initiated instead. That’s a revelation that would have blown the Commander’s mind. In fact, since my belt was carried up by one of those escorts, it did.

Now I just had to escape through a ship full of perpetually pissed off marines that was being attacked by either superheroes, the strongest conventional military on Earth, or alternate universe future space marines protecting their future existences.

This is gonna be so much fun!

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