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Chapter 4 - Relaxing at the Capital (page 1 of 10)



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The parade and festivities were done, and it had been a week like few others. I was spent, but due to the outlandish expenditures for the parade, so were all of my colleagues, a million monthly expense accounts and the landscape of the entire earth, as well as all of the known accessible resources of every stellar body within two gigajumps of earth.

Maybe they spent more than they should have in honoring me, but I can't blame them. It was all worth it, really. I was exhausted, but no more exhausted than the thousands of planets subjugated and pillaged to fuel this blurry romp, though maybe a bit more exhausted than the legion of bedmistresses sent to thank my squad.

Ah to be young and me or someone near me.

The revelry had mostly died down, in no small part because the revelers had mostly died off. Bodies lay strewn about the land, expired from debouchary, smiles permanently burned in to their mortal mugs. I was free to take my real vacation, and it was something I was more than modestly ready for.

After all, I'd saved all of the known existence yet again and I deserved it. With a trunk of discretionary gold and diamonds for incidentals and trans-universal diplomatic immunity, I made my way back home.

I didn't want to do ill with my privileges, which is precisely the reason they entrusted me with them, and as a benevolent ubermensch, it was nothing I'd consider. Having seen it all, done it all, loved it all (often before abashed apologies) I was ready for a break. Not just a break, but a vacation to end all vacations. In other words, I was ready for my retirement.

The terrain was a wasteland of tinder cut for celebratory flame, and of trash and vomit strewn across the grounds in puddles and piles of afterglow, but as we turned off the crossworld express and headed down beside the waving groves of beef trees, I knew I was almost home. The feeling warmed me from inside.

Our caravan of Hummer H-360's drifted across the land leaving impressions five inches deep in the thick pavement as we hovered our way over it, making our way back to the motherland, to the capital of earth, our solar system and the Milky Way.

We were back in Charleston, and nothing could have felt better. Well, the previous uninterrupted 200-hour orgy of man, woman, plant, animal, mineral, coca, poppy, mudma and a free-spilling cornucopia of greased-to-the-elbow alientalia. It may not sound like a compliment, but if the feeling of going home means as much to me as the pleasure of the deca-galactic gangbang, it's a real tribute.

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