HOT DOG by Ishmael A Soledad
 
“So, Mr. Patheson, what line of business are you in?”
 
Ugly fucking hairy ape-woman, what do you know of business? Just rent me the space and be done with it. You’ll find out my business soon enough.
 
“Import export, Cindii, a little entertainment on the side.”
 
“I see.”
 
No you don’t, none of your ugly symmetrical air-breathing bastard kind ever has.
 
“So will this place do? It’s city centre, three hundred fifty square meters, fifth level basement with loading ramp and goods elevator.”
 
Idiot. If it lasts a week it’s enough.
 
“How much again?”
 
“Two and a quarter on a three plus three lease.”
 
“It’s perfect.”
 
 
 
Hot. Dog. Hotdog. What garbage is this? I’ve had constipation, flatulence and arrhythmia eating this factory produced swill they call food. No wonder they all smell like shit, fat arsed sweaty bodied perverts. White bun, read thing smothered in yellow vomit and crisp brown shards. It bears a passing resemblance to a dog’s dick on a hot day and I wouldn’t put it past one of these morons to have tried eating that. Sex obsessed losers, everything comes back to penis envy or cunt strike. The universe’ll be better off without them.
 
“Turn around slow and quiet. Do as I say and you won’t get hurt.”
 
I turn around. It’s only a knife, like I’m fucking scared? I haven’t got time for this but I’m bored. This stupid ape’s mind’s as easy to control as the rest of them.
 
“Strip.”
 
He does as he’s told, I leave his eyes and mind unlocked to watch the show. It’s always more fun that way.
 
“Cut off your dick.”
 
The horror on his face is wonderful, I toy with opening his vocal chords but the mall’s too close. It’s a lot of blood for such a small pink thing. What the fuck. I hand him the hotdog.
 
“Stick it in this.”
 
I feel like laughing for the first time today, he knows what’s coming and can’t stop it. The more his eyes plead the better it gets. Just hope he doesn’t bleed out too soon.
 
“Enjoy your lunch, make sure to eat it all.”
 
I stay for the first few bites enjoying the feeling of his mind skittering to insanity. I turn the corner into the mall and release him, the scream rising above the traffic. Shame I haven’t more time, twelve billion of them and they’re all mine.
 
 
 
The basement’s perfect. Anywhere would have done but I’m a showman, an artist, and my viewing audience demands a spectacle. At least for the first few hours. Nodes across the world solve that, my direct feed’s a subscriber perk.
 
I take the lines and lay them on the floor in two one hundred and fifty square meter rectangles. I connect the brackets and they’re live, just awaiting the command. Indestructible, they’ll stay through it all.
 
 
 
It’s a good hill, nice view of the city and safe for the first hour. I slide open the van’s freezer and she hands me a Magnum. She doesn’t need the rest of her body and it’s a tight fit anyway, so waistline up’s all that’s there. Simple stupid ape biology, so easy to keep alive. I let her cry to see how long the icicles can get but that fucking voice is grating. The ice-cream’s nice, one thing from a planet of shit.
 
“How’s that monthly sales target now, Cindii? Tell you what, I’ll let you watch the show.”
 
I put her on the grass facing away from my chair. She’s just the right height. I sit down, place a boot on each shoulder and settle in.
 
I’d toyed with sequencing. What first, the portal 10,000 meters undersea in the Dokarzha Deeps or the one at Betelgeuse’s core? It’s a simulcast, so it’s both at once. I throw the mental switch.
 
It’s beautiful, city erased as two giant columns of water and plasma erupt and mix to hyper-steam, the shock wave turning everything to dust for thirty kilometres as the columns soar, tearing the earth up and flinging it to the four winds. Every nanosecond recorded and streamed, every terror stricken pained instant before oblivion lifted from the minds of seven million naked apes, as it would be for them all as the whole planet was scoured, steamed, cleansed.
 
The earth beneath me trembles as the old fault lines awake, the thrusting magma flows seeking the surface.
 
What the fuck, I’ve got time. I let her scream, every movie needs a soundtrack. I flip on my shield and decide to stay.
 
I throw back my head and laugh like never before.
 
THE END
 
 
 
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