I’m not going to lie. I have body issues.
I was told I’d have to be shirtless for my trial by zombie combat.
I stood there in the locker room, staring at the mirror.
“Crap. I have man titties.”
“You look fine,” VGRF said as she wrapped her arms around me.
“I’ll never have the stunning physique of Johnny B. Truant, author of The Beam, Fat Vampire, and other works.”
VGRF slapped me across the face.
“Damn it, man! I love you just the way you are. Stop comparing yourself to the prime physical specimen that is Johnny B. Truant, co-host of the Self-Publishing Podcast! He has pecs that no man could ever achieve!”
“I wish I could call the SPP guys on the space phone right now,” I said. “They’d probably have some good advice to get myself out of this. Alas, such world renowned media moguls would never be bothered to talk to a lowly nerd like me.”
“Stop selling yourself short, BQB.”
Our conversation was cut short by the sounds of giggling. We followed the sound to the shower room, where Bernie and Blandie were smooching furiously.
“WHAT THE?” was my response.
“Yo!” was all Bernie could get out. “What up, G?”
Blandie blushed.
“You two? Really?”
“BQB,” Blandie said. “You and I never worked out because you’re too smart and independent.”
Blandie put an arm around Bernie.
“All I’ve ever wanted was a man with a brain full of mush that I can play and easily manipulate.”
Bernie smiled a stupid grin.
“And all I’ve ever wanted is to touch some tit-tays.”
“How long has this been going on?” I asked.
“A few days,” Bernie said. “Sorry playa, I shoulda blasted you the deets sooner.”
“Nah, it’s cool,” I said as I drew VGRF close to me. “I’ve found my soulmate. Blandie, you’re a godawful human being, but every human needs someone.”
“Thanks?”
“And Bernie,” I continued.
“Yeah?”
“It’s your funeral, dude.”
George and the DiStefanos walked in.
“It’s time, maggot,” George said.
VGRF hugged me so tight she practically pushed herself through me.
“Be safe and come back to me, my nerdy stallion!”
I looked at my she-nerd lover. The tears were coming.
“Buck up, buttercup. I’m off to kick some zombie ass.”
Alien Jones tugged on my arm.
“BQB, I’ve traveled all over the universe and…”
“I know,” I interrupted. “You’ve never met a warrior more capable than me?”
“Actually, I’ve met thousands better than you,” AJ said. “But remember. You’re fighting a Moloklaxon warlord here. You’re taking on a man in his fifties. If you can’t take out an AARP card carrier, you should be incredibly ashamed of yourself.”
I put my hand on AJ’s shoulder.
“Thanks, Esteemed Brainy One.”
George grabbed my arm.
“Come on! There’s no time to bond with your deformed kid!”
Bookshelf Battle 