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Here are some great excerpts of the last three NBAS books of 2015.
“What do you think, Dane?”
The crew member’s face was a charcoal sketch, but Dane recognized the voice. It was Fattahipour from the morning crew. Odd, Dane thought to himself. Fattahipour usually kept away from the Aphrodite, choosing to stay inside and learn more about the history of King Space Void rather than interacting with his fellow citizens.
Fattahipour went on talking before Dane had a chance to respond.
“Something happened to me the other night, Dane.” Fattahipour kept massaging the spirit box. “I had a dream. A dream about us; where we’re going.”
“You saw the edge?”
“No. No, nothing like that.”
“What’d you see?”
“Oblivion, Dane. I saw oblivion. We’re heading for something awful,” Fattahipour said. “That’s why I figured, why not see what these boxes are all about. We already live on layers of death, but maybe the other side holds more promise.”
The severed arm tried to creep back into Dane’s head, pollute his good time. He pushed it out, focused on Fattahipour who was pulling the box slowly open. A small light emanated from it, further intoxicated everyone close by. Lit up by the box’s glow, Fattahipour’s silver hair turned almost bone white. His eyes, and those around them, were honed in on the spirit manifesting before them. Dane felt the pull on his mind; he didn’t just want to see inside of it, he needed to.
Dane fell into the moment.
A blue face began to take shape in the box. It seemed friendly, grateful for being let out.
Work. Play. Work. Play. He really didn’t have anything to fear or worry about.
Twin orbs of gold light formed in the eye sockets of the face. The higher Fattahipour lifted the lid the more the face stretched and moaned. Dane couldn’t take his eyes off it. Even though it didn’t speak, he felt all the pleasures the spirit offered, all of the ecstasy available to him if he would just relax and submit.
This was life aboard King Space Void, and everything was great.
Until the alarms went off.
-9:00 AM, UROBOCHI HIGH Courtyard
Can’t wait to meet the other squads. This is going to be awesome. Now, if only Akagawa-san would hurry up with her tune-up and man-bike discussion with Molly.
Man these girls are awesome. Now, which one should I date first? Marjorie is feisty, fries up food like a motherfucker, and would probably be fun in the sack…but she is a bitch with a capital C. Then, there is Setsuko. She’s the calm, level-headed intellectual type…and could prove to be quite the mental sparring partner. I could see myself having several discussions with her on ethics in journalism and the benefits of socialism. However, she doesn’t seem like the type that knows how to have fun. That leaves Naomi Akagawa. She’s klutzy, adorable, and knowledgeable. She’s also surprisingly mature for her age. She makes delicious strudel, too. If only she were a bit more of a nerd like I am. It sucks, but it’s the truth. Girls just don’t read manga or play video games. Maybe I should ask the Redditors for help? She’s the closest I’ll come to my dream girl.
I pull out my cell phone, sign into my Reddit account(my handle is dandy_dapper24), and post a topic in r/dating_advice.
“How to Win The Affection of my “Almost Perfect” Dream Girl?”
I describe her qualities, my own qualities, and my inexperience with dating.
This’ll be great. I’ll check it again after class.
The courtyard is quiet and the sky around the school burns red.
This is weird. Shouldn’t there be more people here?
The doors to the school bend, shift, and fly off. An army of large, muscle man rabbits and frogs fill out the space. The rabbits clench their fists and kiss their muscles. The frogs lash their electrified tongues out and clear away the trees and bushes nearby.
“Julie Argento~” says a voice from on high. I look up to the voice and see a woman in a red pin stripe suit descending to the ground. Her suit flutters, and she wears half of a red mask over her face. She lands in front of the rabbits and frogs. They remove their mask to reveal a pencil moustache and a mole under their left eye. A scar in the shape of an X covers the left cheek.
A drag-king? Okay, I can dig it. Non-conformist gender practices, yeah!
“My name is Scardick Montana. Your sister sends her regards.” He snaps his fingers and two rabbits charge forward.
The other rabbits blush and moan don’tlookatmethatwaybaka and noticemesenpai. A rush of wind hits my crotch. The skirt flutters and the rabbits scream about how bad they want my PANTIEJUNK. I fire a few soap shots at the rabbits, and they shrink in size.
Scardick claps his hand, and a frog fires a mucous bomb at me. I unhinge my wrist and fire a bleach ball bomb at the mucous. They collide mid-air and explode. Scardick claps his hands again, and all of the frogs fire mucous bombs at me. I send out several bleach ball bombs to match the level of mucous being shot out at me. My vision blurs with each colliding explosion until I pass out.
“Look on my works, ye Patty, and despair!”
The man sits besides the Boy and Benjamin. He’s about fifty, wearing a faded green zoot suit, and a red fedora. He’s something out of a cartoon, thinks Benjamin. He reaches out towards the Boy, and if Benjamin could flinch, he would.
The man just strokes Fred, whose hair stands up with the contact of that strange hand. Benjamin notices that the hand, although normal shaped, is scaly and grey.
“I like that name for you, Patty. Are you a girl? You look like one.”
The man just pets the cat absently, his eyes fixated on the now almost empty bookstore.
“I had a cat named Patty once, she was my special friend. Where I’d go, she went. We went through the good times and the bad times together. I miss her very much.”
Benjamin can see the man is not paying attention to him or the Boy. He mentally signals his friend to drop Fred down and go.
The Boy does not move.
“Listen, let go of the cat. He’ll be safe in the mall. Let’s just get away from this creature.”
Fred has calmed down now, and accepts more of the man’s petting. Sometimes, the man’s weird hand brushes against the Boy’s, but he doesn’t seem to notice. He can only see his “Patty.”
“I’ve miss you so much, girl,” the man says. There are tears streaming down his eyes now. He stops petting Fred and buries his face in his hands, sobbing.
“Now!” Benjamin says.
With a new display of his odd agility, the Boy gets up in one swift motion, Fred in one hand and Benjamin’s string in the other, and starts to scurry away from the stranger, crying man.
“I’m so glad I ate that whore you were with,” the man says, still holding his face, the crying now gone.