It’s time. My latest story-baby has been held upside down and its bottom smacked by Jeff Bezos. You can now buy Ultimate Victim: Three Tales of the SJW Superhero direct from Amazon.com, including the origin story which left Uncanny Magazine literally speechless, figuratively speaking.
I’m afraid I had to withdraw my submission to “Uncanny Magazine” from consideration. It is clear to me that my story, “White Privilege”, although moving and powerful and so very, very brave, was a snowflake the Uncanny blizzard was just not prepared to accept within the cold and frigid confines of its drifts. While the personal satisfaction of seeing my story-child gracing the pages of the illustrious diversity hire of the magazine world would have kept me warm during those long, cold winter nights in (((Mom’s))) basement, I could be on Amazon selling at least six copies of this wonderful tale of social justice and the warriors who cry out in pain as they strike out at you. Six whole copies! That’s enough to pay for two days of my diabetes medication, and seeing as I’m running low this month after loaning what I thought was my excess to one of my D&D players (thanks, Chet!) the uncertainty was literally killing me. So I’m taking my story-ball and going to Jeff Bezos’ house.
The good news for you, gentle reader – dear, sweet, gentle, and generous reader of refined taste and excellent style (I love that outfit you have on today, it really sets off your eyes) – is that this means you don’t have to wait any longer. You can go to Amazon.com and buy not just one, but THREE, short stories of biting alt-right satire featuring the sort of superhero Marvel would invent if they had any creativity and didn’t rely entirely on writing the normal men (read: straight, non-trans, clean limbed, and alabaster skinned) out of the continuity while drinking their milkshakes*.
I don’t really have anything else to say in this post. That footnote doesn’t deserve its own paragraph, and it would look weird not to have a paragraph between that asterisk and the actual footnote. So let me close out by complimenting you one more time in the hopes you will feel like we’ve established a rapport that will help you decide to buy my latest story, Ultimate Victim: your head doesn’t look nearly as large in person as it does in all of your photographs.
*A couple of those ladies have milkshakes that would bring this boy to the yard. They may be Fake Geek Girls, but it’s not like my waifu pillow is any less fake. Heck, my pillow is a fake girl, but it knows just as much about geek culture as Tom Brevoort‘s little assistant editor harem there, so I’d call that a tie. Oh! We could have a Fake Geek Girl threesome – one fake girl, one fake geek, and all three hundred and twenty five pounds of my Adonis like majesty.