Max and the Multiverse (Max and the Multiverse, #1)

by Zachry Wheeler

“She’s a canine sympathizer, Max. She consistently reeks of wet dog and utterly fails to grasp the concept of an inside voice.

“Jeez, it’s like living with a douchebag Garfield.” “That’s racist.” Ross cocked his ears back.

The rest of the world sees you as the douchiest douchebag to ever douche his way out of Douchetown.”

Thursday tested his will to live. Due to a slight delay in the emergence of popular culture, the people on television, while current and topical, had regressed to the flamboyant attire of the 1980s. The hairstyles alone made one question the wisdom of humanity.

“Our patented 3D printing technology can assemble your replica in a few short minutes, all while you wait. And when you return from your trip, we simply transfer the consciousness back to the physical body. You can even keep the cybernetic shell as a nifty souvenir.

“Do you even need to sleep as a CounterPet?” “Of course not. I just didn’t feel like listening to your wack talk for five hours.” “You’re such a loving companion.” Max returned his gaze to the viewport. “I’m a cat, not your therapist.”

After all, morons hinder progress (and for the record, no truer statement has ever been uttered).

The recruiter then asked why. The candidate then answered why the bleep not? (Bleep being the literal translation of fuck in Minoparkish.)

“Whatever, Garfield. You just sit there and enjoy the fruits of our labor.” “That’s racist.”

“You know, I’d like to be surprised, but I’m really not.” Her casual demeanor caught Jai off guard. “Remind me, why do I keep you alive?” Jai thought for a moment. “Entertainment?”

“I’m a max-level paladin. Earth class, retro build. I know the RPG servers inside and out.” Max raised an open palm as if holding a crystal ball. “I can bend them to my every will like a cybernetic god. I’m a meme master, an arcane ninja.”