Born Hard Again: Book Three of the Future Remembered Chronicles Read Online Free PDF Page A

to find stability standing.  I proudly glared at Makayla, who was not looking at me at all.  She was transfixed on the Limbotron, which had begun to move in an ghostly, automated fashion. 
    I clenched my fist.  Did I have enough strength yet to confront Makayla?  Surely she had some means of rescinding my mobility in that compute-pad she was holding. 
    "Think, Preston," I furled my brow.  "Think!"
    "Help, Preston!  Help!" TK's pleas pierced my mind.
    "TK!  What happened?!"  Now was not a good time.
    Unfortunately for my focus, she did not respond.  What was happening to her?  I remembered that the last thing she had told me was that she was trapped in an underground chamber with hundreds of slovenly men.  I had to get to her!
    I needed help.
    " Jesus Cleveland! " I thundered over the thumping club sounds.
    Feeling a surge of power in my body, particularly my right leg, I knew what I had to do.
    Necessity, being the mother of invention, guided my hand in the selection of an impromptu projectile: the frozen cadaver of my best friend, Marcus Aurelius.  With the strength of one thousand chubby toddlers, I deftly punted Marcus' rigid form at Makayla.  He went skidding across the ice with deadly accuracy and bowled my target over along with twenty or so of her pledges behind her.  As she fell backward, the compute-pad she had been holding flew out of her hands and onto the dance floor between us.
    Desperately, I awkwardly galloped towards the discarded device.
    "Noooo!" I heard Makayla exclaim from the shadows.
    Another three steps and I jumped on top of the compute-pad.  I had intended to elegantly roll back to my feet, compute-pad in hand, but instead face-flopped onto the floor with a defeated thud.
    "Oh, no, you don't!  Get him!  Stop the music!  Get him, sisters!  Get him! " Makayla commanded hysterically.
    I had different plans.  My supernatural strength surge now fading, I struggled briefly to get to my feet.  Thankfully, the surgipod suit was still steadily and rapidly healing my pulverized body.  Clutching Makayla's compute-pad, I began to hobble back towards the giant metal door that had been the gateway to this whole fucked up sub-terrestrial scene.
    "P!" I stopped dead in my tracks at the sound of Marcus' voice.  "Ay, yo, P!" His voice sounded very close, but different: tinny. 
    "Marcus?!" I shouted in all directions.  "Marcus, is that you?!"
    "Ha ha, I tol' y'old bitch ass bes' be callin' me Koochy, sucka!  Hell yea, boy!  Dis dat Big Kooch!  Dat one an' only!  I stuff dat pussy wit' cheetos, ya hurr me?" the disembodied voice returned. 
    I realized it was coming from my hand.  The compute-pad!  I held it up to my face.
    "Marc... Koochy!" I teared up, I was so happy to hear his voice.  "You're alive?!  How?  Where are you?"
    "Ay, slow down, son," the compute-pad chastised me.  "Man, you some kinda bussa ass bes' friend, P.  How you thank I goan be dyin' an' shit?  Mothafucka, I hacked death!  Pwnd dat dam boney bitch!  Unnnnghhh!"
    "You wha..." I didn't have time to finish the thought as suddenly I was attacked by an avalanche of lithe white girls.  Thankfully, I managed to hold onto the compute-pad, my only connection to Marcus.  Also, fortunately, my iron suit shielded me from their girly punches and kicks.  They continued to dog pile on top of me as I crawled, abated but unbeaten, towards the exit. 
    "P!" I could hear Koochy yelling at me from the compute-pad in my gloved fist.  "Ay, P!  Where my body at, yo?"
    "Now's..." I grunted under the growing weight of the women stacking on top of me.  "...not...a... good...time!"
    Becoming frustrated with how my progress was slowing, I rolled to my side and shifted into high gear.  My iron fist shot out sharply to the left like a thrown piston and crumpled the beautiful face of one of the cloying, clawing girls closest to me.  It burst like a fruit punch balloon, and now there was blood on the dance floor.
    "First blood!" I