By D. Harlan Wilson
For a professor at Corndog college it truly is relatively applicable to buy a robot dopplegänger and feature it educate your periods for you. yet how does it contemplate your educating talents whilst your dopplegänger murders the total type? stick with the Dystopian Duo (Dr. Blah Blah Blah and his robotic Dr. identification) on a killing spree of epic proportions during the irreal postapocalyptic urban of Bliptown the place time ticks sideways, synthetic Bug-Eyed Monsters punish electorate for consumer-capitalist lethargy, and ultraviolence is as crucial as a regular multivitamin.
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Extra resources for Dr. Identity (Scikungfi Trilogy)
According to their inventor, Jean-Claude Baudelaire Hillary Wapakoneta de la Footwa, they were inspired by an old cartoon show called Henri Hackensack starring a German “curt jester” of the same name who had a bad habit of arbitrarily pulling entire alternate realities out of his navel. The pockets molecularized all material objects you put inside of them, and when you took the objects out, the pockets molarized them back to their original form. Some versions even had room for psychic storage in the event that a wearer experienced an overload of schizophrenic personalities, a common experience in Bliptown.
The spectacles magnified their white, irisless eyes to an estranging degree. Hairy shawls covered their hunchbacks. Their pencil-thin legs were sheathed in netted stockings with fashionable tears in them. From afar, they looked like neckless, over-the-hill ostriches. They didn’t look much different close up. Shoppers marched in and out of the entrance in a fluid, orderly swarm. Like the Babettas, most of them were short, frail-looking, and blue-haired. Dr. Identity and I stuck out like spraypainted sequoias as we slipped into the swarm and made for the door.
It was light, thin, the color of TV static. Impossibly sharp. I could almost feel it slicing through my gaze as I looked it over. I thrust the sword into my pocket. A plume of cold sparks tickled the skin of my hand. I collected more weapons, trying to catch Dr. Identity. I loaded up on guns, ammunition, swords, entropics. I was especially attracted to coagulators. In many of the science fiction texts I taught, coagulators were fearsome biological weapons. They inflicted damage to living body tissue, rearranging and scrambling one’s musculature, nervous system, and internal organs in hideous ways.