A Short History of the Future of the Expanding Universe by god must be atheist
"Joseph, don't get a big head," said Julia after she'd had the absolutely most magnificent orgasm of her life. "You still need to fix the roof and enlarge the entrance cut to the doghouse. You absolutely must NOT have a head bigger than what will fit through that opening."
Joseph was looking at his loin. He was getting bigger and bigger.
Julia got up to go into the bathroom to freshen up, but her breast would not fit through the door. "Honey!!" she screamed.
The kids rushed in from the yard, hearing their mother scream. Little Patrick floated to the ceiling, his specific gravity having become lighter than air, due to the cosmic expansion. They fished him down eventually with a broom, but the family stability was shaken.
They ate some tv dinners, which was rather unfortunate, because they could now no longer see the picture as the broadcast aired from Joseph's stomach: "Our country has the biggest army yet in the history of the world. We will defeat the expanding Sun, which is threatening our borders having become a giant red dwarf. Our biggest army ever enlisted both soldiers and they are several thousand feet tall. Fear not, gentlefolks and citizens of our country. We shall come up victorious."
"I'm getting hungry again," said Krista, the seven-year-old, but there was not time to pay attention to her: the furniture was threatening to block the doorway, while the cat and the dog sucked all the air out of the room. If anyone wanted to take a breath of air, it would be with cat hair, dog hair, dust bunnies, and 99% of household germs that would fill their lungs, which germs the air freshener spray no longer killed, since the microbes were the size of cockroaches and miniature crocodiles. So with bulging, red eyes, everyone in the family started to push out against the walls, with their backs against each other. Eventually the brick and mortar gave, and chunks of what used to be their home, flung out and sped away from the nuclear family at a constantly increasing speed.
The nuclear family had a gamma particle the size of a grapefruit, and a quark the size of a walnut. Finally Krista understood, for the first time in her life, why phy square thetha minus sine a square plus b square minus ab times abc, which was the kernel of Gustaffson's particle occurrence probability formula, turned her mother's hair gray overnight back in the spring of three-thousand twenty-seven.
Out in the open, they stared at the night sky: a Siberian tiger was eating Jupiter's seventh moon, and a walking mushroom with lipstick marks on its shaft -- they had ludicrously called him "fungi" behind his back -- had an inexplicably complicated psychedelic dream considering his head contained no neurons. Neutrinos, yes, which petitioned the scientific establishment to get a name change, because theirs, with a close semblance to "bambino" and "Tarantino", gave the idea they were childish, immature, could not move at the speed of light, and more often than not they needed to be changed in the family washrooms of shopping malls.
Krista turned to her mother, Julia, and asked: "Mother, if we are all getting larger and larger, then why do we notice this? If we keep our proportions the same among all existing things, then there would be no way of telling that we are expanding." Her mother was unable to give a properly well-thought out answer, because faster than a speeding bullet Julia left a vacuum in her place as she catapulted out of the room at break-neck speed.
It's a mind-blast, like no one has ever experienced before, thought Joseph, as his body scattered into expanding versions of sub-atomic particles. His ego remained intact. His ego had been named Igor, which was done in very bad taste. Things that bad don't disappear from the everlasting cosmos.
There was no stopping to this madness. Objects of everyday life killed many a surfer (a cute name to describe someone who could balance on the crest of the waves of change) by flying through their bodies as if they were not much more than holographic reflections.
Joseph now could see the end of the physical universe. His last thought? The last thing that went through his mind? It was how much he had loved his wife, and life, and the universe, which now imminently would evaporate into nothingness, only the fabric of cosmos would remain in the infinite expansion of space, by taking a form of a longitudinal low-frequency harmonic have, which curiously had a faint and very subtle foot odor.
Joseph was looking at his loin. He was getting bigger and bigger.
Julia got up to go into the bathroom to freshen up, but her breast would not fit through the door. "Honey!!" she screamed.
The kids rushed in from the yard, hearing their mother scream. Little Patrick floated to the ceiling, his specific gravity having become lighter than air, due to the cosmic expansion. They fished him down eventually with a broom, but the family stability was shaken.
They ate some tv dinners, which was rather unfortunate, because they could now no longer see the picture as the broadcast aired from Joseph's stomach: "Our country has the biggest army yet in the history of the world. We will defeat the expanding Sun, which is threatening our borders having become a giant red dwarf. Our biggest army ever enlisted both soldiers and they are several thousand feet tall. Fear not, gentlefolks and citizens of our country. We shall come up victorious."
"I'm getting hungry again," said Krista, the seven-year-old, but there was not time to pay attention to her: the furniture was threatening to block the doorway, while the cat and the dog sucked all the air out of the room. If anyone wanted to take a breath of air, it would be with cat hair, dog hair, dust bunnies, and 99% of household germs that would fill their lungs, which germs the air freshener spray no longer killed, since the microbes were the size of cockroaches and miniature crocodiles. So with bulging, red eyes, everyone in the family started to push out against the walls, with their backs against each other. Eventually the brick and mortar gave, and chunks of what used to be their home, flung out and sped away from the nuclear family at a constantly increasing speed.
The nuclear family had a gamma particle the size of a grapefruit, and a quark the size of a walnut. Finally Krista understood, for the first time in her life, why phy square thetha minus sine a square plus b square minus ab times abc, which was the kernel of Gustaffson's particle occurrence probability formula, turned her mother's hair gray overnight back in the spring of three-thousand twenty-seven.
Out in the open, they stared at the night sky: a Siberian tiger was eating Jupiter's seventh moon, and a walking mushroom with lipstick marks on its shaft -- they had ludicrously called him "fungi" behind his back -- had an inexplicably complicated psychedelic dream considering his head contained no neurons. Neutrinos, yes, which petitioned the scientific establishment to get a name change, because theirs, with a close semblance to "bambino" and "Tarantino", gave the idea they were childish, immature, could not move at the speed of light, and more often than not they needed to be changed in the family washrooms of shopping malls.
Krista turned to her mother, Julia, and asked: "Mother, if we are all getting larger and larger, then why do we notice this? If we keep our proportions the same among all existing things, then there would be no way of telling that we are expanding." Her mother was unable to give a properly well-thought out answer, because faster than a speeding bullet Julia left a vacuum in her place as she catapulted out of the room at break-neck speed.
It's a mind-blast, like no one has ever experienced before, thought Joseph, as his body scattered into expanding versions of sub-atomic particles. His ego remained intact. His ego had been named Igor, which was done in very bad taste. Things that bad don't disappear from the everlasting cosmos.
There was no stopping to this madness. Objects of everyday life killed many a surfer (a cute name to describe someone who could balance on the crest of the waves of change) by flying through their bodies as if they were not much more than holographic reflections.
Joseph now could see the end of the physical universe. His last thought? The last thing that went through his mind? It was how much he had loved his wife, and life, and the universe, which now imminently would evaporate into nothingness, only the fabric of cosmos would remain in the infinite expansion of space, by taking a form of a longitudinal low-frequency harmonic have, which curiously had a faint and very subtle foot odor.
Comments (8)
:rofl:
The story is a straightforward fast-forward impossible flight of fancy to the end of the journey, to the end of the world. It may be entertaining to those who are on a train ride or on the airplane to somewhere: not escapism, but light, refreshing, rejuvenating reading, similar to your soul like a pina colada or sitting on the beach somewhere, lazing in the sun, and making stories about the clouds upstairs.
If you like fluff, this is it. I like its length... not too overdrawn, not carrying it beyond the point of getting to be a tired story or a tiring story. I found the visuals effective, not complicated, but communicated clearly.
:up:
Already a fun start on a sci-fi journey. Reminding me of Douglas Adams. :fire:
Quoting Baden
Too late
Quoting Baden
Then.
Quoting Baden
So, an author with a penchant for big tits and dicks. Bound to worship his phallic-shaped shiny car.
No mini for this guy, unless worn by a hot bod.
Next up. Brilliant image and consequence. Social commentary !
Quoting Baden
Then this. Reminds me of the Domestos ad - the claim to kill 99.9% of all known germs in the toilet.
What about new, foreign germs, huh ?
Quoting Baden
Like Krista, I have a question:
Why is airfreshener no longer effective - wouldn't the spray droplets also expand ?
In any case - to be pedantic and kill the fun-vibe dead - an air freshener only eliminates unpleasant odours. It don't kill germs... but it might kill you.
Formula details no doubt available from clever Krista who understood things.
Quoting Baden
:rofl:
The whole story is hilarious. Quoting Baden
The author has fun with this and we all join in.
Quoting Baden
The 'foot odour' reference definitely reminds me of something. I can't think where...
What does space smell like? A universe of all kinds of everything.
This story hits all the senses.
Quoting Baden
Hah. Sex mad :fire:
There really wasn't a plot or character development, more just an apparent middle class suburban family being caught up in a futuristic Armageddon. I did catch the moral at the end, which is that love is all that matters, although the author relented from taking that seriously by discussing foot odor.
Overall, I thought the idea was good, kind of polar opposite of the movie "Downsizing," for which I enjoyed the trailer. But I do think much could be done with this concept, with massive gonad wrecking balls, monthly egg emissions the size of bowling balls, river floods of arousal, and on an on. The ideas are limitless, and the author has done well in sparking those thoughts in its readers (or in this reader at least) and in so doing, making us all better people.