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

useless part of Koochy?" I asked.
    "Sheeit, son, I AM da' best part!  Dat's all you need, homie!  I got built-in speakers and shit, lemme lay down a dope beat, some chessboxin' music muthafucka!  Now fight dem bihhs!  You got 99 bitches but they ain't no problem, kid!"
    A sick syncopation of drum hits and tinny bass lines came from the compute-pad in my hand.  With each beat, the dancing girls bobbed up and down, their tits and asses jiggling in time.  In time ...
    "Wait!" I exclaimed.  "I got it!  Koochy, give me some controls on the music!"
    A DJ-style visualization appeared on the compute-pad with an overlay of a spinning record.  It wasn't as sophisticated as the universally standard DJing compute-pad peripheral that I'd grown up with in high school computer science class, but it would do.  I channeled my inner Koochy, cocked my head to one side and rubbed the digital turntable back and forth with two fingers.
    "Fool you ain't scratchin', you look like a god-damn compute-pad perv!  And I be in dis compute-pad!  I ain't been touched 'n rubbed like dis since I shit in Mooks!"
    With each scratch of the beat, the dancing girls stutter-stepped.  Despite Koochy's misgivings, my plan was working!  Their frenzied motions to match my improvised staccato beat were slowing them down.  One of the girls popped and locked so violently that her own titties smacked her in the face and she went down hard, like a sexy bag of bricks.
    Wikka wikka wikka wikka!   My fingers were getting tired on the virtual record, but I saw that the girls were even more tired and falling into exhausted heaps on the ground.
    "Yes!" I shouted.  One problem down, a few more to go.  I wasn't going to get torn apart by a squad of dance-crew hotties, my surgipod-encased dick was healing from that toothy blowjob...  things were looking up!
    "That was a god damn nice trick you pulled there," boomed Limbozer.  I turned to see his perfect face projected on the side of the Limbotron.  "If only Jeff, Dios bendiga su alma, had known..."
    His gorgeously masculine visage turned to look at Broman.
    "Why didn't you think of that?  Is it too god damn much to ask that you use one of your shriveled little god damn brain cells once in a while?" Limbozer continued.  Now back in his element, the Limbotron, his commanding stage presence was in full effect.
    "Bro!  I mean, boss!" Broman backpedaled.  "Look, let's just get out of here!  I don't even see Makayla, since this midget guy started wrecking shop she probably went back to cry in her room.  Now's our chance, bro!"
    I imagined Makayla scurrying around and stashing her Limbozer posters into a fanny-pack and posting something with a hashtag, then probably organizing a candlelight vigil on the steps of the dance hall for her fallen pledges, then maybe drinking some Snapple.  God, what a bitch , I thought.
    "Get out of here?" Limbozer bellowed.  "You WOULD want to get out of here, you god damn pussy."
    Broman stood up straighter and angrily flexed his pecs in response.
    "Bro, I ain't the one who was crying every night," he muttered.
    "It has begun!" Limbozer announced, ignoring Broman completely.  His face on the Limbotron screen looked enrapt, as if he were completely one with his art.  " Kaleeemmboooo! "
    My surgipod suit responded to his call and marched itself towards the Limbotron.
    "Makayla is an insufferable cunt, but she's right about one god damn thing," Limbozer said.  Laser drills started whirring and sparks showered from the massive machine.  "There can be only one.  Come, join me in the Limbotron!"
    My suit continued walking on its own accord.  Makayla's compute-pad was still wedged firmly in my grip.
    "Son, yo ass is da key!  You goan have ta get more juice in dat dere suit, ya hear' me?" repeated Koochy, redundantly.
    "Dammit, Marcus, speak English!  What do you mean?  Hey, why can't you control this suit?"  I demanded as I continued to walk inexorably forward.
    "Ay, P, I done