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Kindle Notes & Highlights
by
David Wong
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March 3 - March 11, 2024
My phone rang. It was John. I answered, “Fuck you and all the child slaves who manufactured your phone.”
So yeah, you want to fight, I’ll give you a fight. I won’t win, you’re a trained soldier and I’m a sack of guts designed to convert beer into piss and depression.
I’ll give you a fight. I won’t win, you’re a trained soldier and I’m a sack of guts designed to convert beer into piss and depression.
John said, “Mr. Knoll, think about what you’re accusing him of, and all you’ve seen today. You’re not accusing him of stealing your child. You’re accusing him of stealing your child using dark magic. You want to fight a kiddy diddler in a dildo store parking lot, I understand that completely, I’ve done that myself. But are you sure you want to fight a sexual deviant who is also a wizard? That’s how you wind up with a cursed asshole.”
I said, “You think I did both? At the same time, across town? And never got spotted? It’s weird how you switch between having a really high opinion of me and a really low one.”
If you understand how this sort of thing could work, please write down your explanation with as much clarity and detail as you can, then throw it in the trash because who gives a shit.
“Our organization is known as NON. Non-natural Organism Neutralization.” “Well, either way, one thing is always the same—you people never manage to improve the situation.” “Would you prefer we left it to amateurs like you? Your dossier says you were once seen punting a severed head across your yard, while naked.” “That was an isolated incident.”
Another man came shambling by, in filthy rags that might once have been white. I realized to my horror that he was a doctor. He looked like he’d died of exhaustion a week ago and his body just hadn’t gotten the message.
“Jesus Christ, lady. Did you just tell me to kill myself? It’s like if the guardian angel in It’s a Wonderful Life went up to George Bailey on that bridge and was like, ‘Do it, you pussy.’ ” “George Bailey is portrayed as the hero because he wanted to give cheap home loans to citizens who couldn’t afford them—the very practice that just caused a worldwide financial crisis in real life. We’d have been better off if he and everyone like him were, in fact, drowned in a river.” “Well, I think you and your organization would be better off if you all drowned on my balls. Fuck you, you want me dead,
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They didn’t have witch hunts because they believed in witches. They believed in witches so they could have witch hunts.”
It looked like an intervention of some kind. I noticed each of the men had a shotgun slung over his back. I’d recommend the same if anyone ever tried to spring an intervention on me.
Amy said, “What’s worse, it looks like the dog can’t detect these things after all. If we’re now sure ‘Mikey’ in there is one of them . . .” John said, “Eh, it’s not the first time he’s been wrong. He totally whiffed on that possessed stuffed bear I won at the Fall Festival. Just kept humping it.”
The object did, however, make it to the Mississippi, where it was promptly swallowed by an eighty-pound Asian carp. The carp boasted a proud, heroic lineage (though of course it was not aware of this, or anything else aside from a vague sense that being a fish was pretty sweet).
John said, “As far as safe houses go, this is pretty much the last one in town that I’ve got access to.” I said, “I don’t like it, the artwork out there is freaking out my worldview.”
“Sometimes the best ‘help’ you can offer is to get your own self to safety and not add to the pile of victims somebody else has got to clean up. Problem isn’t that there’s not enough heroes in the world, problem is too many dumb people assume they are one.”
John looked it over and said, “Why didn’t we just go talk to Loretta instead of leaving ourselves a note to do it later?” “Maybe we . . . no. John . . .” “What?” “You didn’t leave a bunch of cryptic clues behind because you wanted to do a Dude, Where’s My Car? situation. You did not do that. Please tell me.” “Well if I did, I’m sure I had a good reason. You know what, I bet the butts are a clue, too.” “Oh my god.”
We parked and as soon as John jumped out, he said to Tasker, “So you’re not dead, then?” “Why would I be?” “You got shot right in the chest like two days ago.” “How high were you when you came to see me Friday night?” “I came to see you?” “So pretty high, then. I’m not repeating the conversation. My employers administered first aid and I was back on duty within an hour. There’s not even a scar.” “Impressive. Is your partner around?” “His brain was hit with a neuron scrambler and his entire upper body was crushed by an SUV. He won’t be back on duty until later this afternoon.”
So, we told her. When we finished, she got an expression on her face like a short-order cook who just saw a huge group of hungry drunks walk in five minutes before closing time.
If a being from another universe were to appear in ours, our ability to understand it would be exactly as limited as the formerly blind teenager trying to identify his or her beloved toys by sight alone. Our brains would paw around madly for some context to make sense of the entity but, finding none, would frantically try to construct a crude analog. Some of us would see demons, some would see aliens, some would see nothing at all. When those conflicting impressions clash with one another, well, you need only to open a history book to see the result. We will live and die according to how we
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“I don’t know how to put this, but while Maggie appears to you as an adorable eight-year-old child, she is in reality a huge carnivorous larva that is slowly eating her mother.”
Academic, man of the cloth, author, adventurer, and reality show host Dr. Albert Marconi’s most recent book mentions me several times and each time makes me look like an asshole. So, he’s good with research.
But Marconi himself has only shown up once in person and in general, he only returns our calls when our situation sounds like something he could parlay into another book. Kind of like a doctor who’ll only take your appointment if your symptoms sound like some kind of horrific undiscovered tropical disease that he can name after himself.
A nearby window exploded and a man came swinging in on a rope. John recognized the blond beard on sight. He was pretty sure that they’d left the front door of Fort Beanie Wienie unlocked, but Ted owned line and a grappling hook and by god, he was going to use them.
The guy shouted something about how John wasn’t to take another step if he didn’t want to see his intestines go bouncing down the stairs like a Slinky.
“I was actually hoping it’d turn out we had built some kind of superweapon in your garage while we were on the Sauce. A big monster-killing bomb or something.”
John would smoke weed in front of me, but not meth. Weird the little boundaries people have.
Amy was next, and strangely, I wasn’t as nervous for her. It honestly wouldn’t matter what they said—they’d be wrong. They might as well tell me the universe doesn’t exist. Amy is my constant, she is the only reason I continue to do any of this. If she’s not real then my life isn’t real and I’m not real and nothing matters anyway. If she’s a monster then I’ll take her home and hug her and we’ll be monsters together.
It cried out in despair. No, wait. That was me.
“Society is nothing more than people cooperating with other people they’d much rather murder.
The answer was a series of deep rumbles, like the sound a mountain would make if it had gotten woken up in the middle of the night by the neighbor’s loud music.
As soon as her mother was out of range, Maggie instantly stopped crying. She stood perfectly still in the middle of her cell, made eye contact with Amy, and said, “Hi.” For some reason, this seemed to creep David out quite a bit, and he actually took a step back from the glass wall.
“If a spider walks onto your bed, you squish it. If a butterfly lands on your bed, you take a picture. Is the butterfly ‘doing something to your brain’? If I didn’t make myself look like this, I would already be dead. You kill everything that doesn’t have pretty wings.”
Amy said, “David, this is stupid.” “That has literally never stopped us before, even once.”
Ted slapped Dave across the face with his dick, proverbially, via a stern facial expression.
This meant that, on top of making sure nobody interfered with the operation, we needed to get the innocents as far away as possible, all within the next few minutes—that would be John’s job. Someday, he will be remembered as the Michelangelo of loud, baffling distractions.
John sat on a Harley-Davidson motorcycle he’d sneaked out of the church parking lot. He had strapped six silicone butts to various parts of his torso with bungee straps. He was holding Buddha’s mace, which had six pink dildos taped to it. I said, “Forget it, we don’t need the diversion. I got intercepted by Ted.” John looked crestfallen.
Must be weird to actually have authority figures on your side sometimes.
“The burning sulfur, you’re creating literal fire and brimstone. It will in fact pierce the larvae’s skin, as you witnessed for yourself. And that is precisely what it wants. That’s what allows it to hatch. It’s the final stage in its life cycle.” I said, “Its life cycle depends on us happening to invent a sulfur and thermite dildo gun at exactly the right time?” “Not exactly that, but yes.”
John was far from proficient when it came to spears, but you go to war with the weapons you have.
The obsidian blade plunged itself into Pussnado’s chest, right into what John was sure was her still-healing wound. She stumbled back and stopped shooting, but did not die. The agent looked down, let out a groan of annoyance like she was having just the worst day, and tugged the spear out of her chest. She tossed it aside, reloaded her gun, and started walking toward the RV again.
If nothing else, John hoped NON remembered her at bonus time.
I pushed the forceps in and the maggot howled, a noise like a screeching exotic bird being forced through a long section of pipe with a sharp stick.
David yelled, “NO! We did not survive all this shit just to get eaten by your stupid ass. Just go away!” Amy said to it, “We’re the good guys! It’s okay!” The thing snatched at David. He thrust the spear at it, backing it off. “NO!” he screamed at it. “No! Don’t you see, you dumb son of a bitch? We don’t want to kill you! Can you even hear me, you fucking animal? I will put this through your goddamned neck!”
“COME ON! Come over here and die, you fucking animal! I’ve fought shit that would keep you for a pet!”
“Jesus, you don’t just sneak up behind people and start spouting wisdom at them. Not at this hour.”
A black sedan pulled up and I was only mildly surprised when Agent Tasker stepped out, a bandage around her neck where her head had apparently been reattached. I wondered if it leaked when she drank coffee.
I said, “You’re arguing with a swarm of shape-shifting bug monsters, John.” Joy said, “And losing!”
I recognize that not all of you share my faith, but you must admit that if gods are real and have observed humanity’s evolution from afar, they must shudder at the possibilities
