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The scenery in Idiocracity is truly something to marvel at. Each skyscraper seems to rise farther into the sky than the last; their frames coated by windows that seem almost like mirrors, reflecting the suns light all through ought the streets. Down below, the traffic, both motor and pedestrian, moves at a flowing speed that somehow borders on perfection.

            Nick was to busy bathing in a water fountain to notice. No matter how hard he scrubbed, it seemed like the stench of the day’s earlier events would not leave him.

            “Ugh…” he moaned as he took another sniff at himself. It smelled no better than last time.

At some point he was able to regain control of himself, shifting his mindset away from his primal, fly like urges, and thinking more like the human he was on the inside. This brought amazing amounts of shame. Jumping head first into a horse’s rear end was not something you brag about. Or, some people would, but most others would find these people “weird”.

“Hey guys, mind if we take a second and sit by the fountain?” Sahara asked her friends, who immediately agreed.

The group of three teenage girls could be described in two words. Cliché, and busty. Cliché because they were the model for American teenager. They each had their phones in their hand, tight yoga pants gripping their butts, Ugg boots on their feet, and straightened hair that ran past the shoulders, even going as far as their luscious breasts, which were the reason for the second word.

Honestly, these girls’ assets were stupendous. The type of breasts that a man would stair at for hours and hours if given the opportunity. Perfectly rounded, their texture like smooth satin, they practically called out to anyone who came to close. Like sirens they enticed men, and even some women. But, Nick was to busy scrubbing himself to notice.

“So Michele,” Sarah said to the girl to her left, who’s only distinguishing characteristic was her brown hair, and a rather unsightly mole on her left cheek that just did not go away no matter how many hours she spent at the dermatologists. “Did you see that guy working at Starbucks?”

“Which one?” Haley asked. She was a bit taller than her two friends. Besides her rack, which was completely perfect, the only noticeable thing about her was the absolute redness of her lips. When it came to lip-gloss, she did not know the word “moderation”.

“The tall guy with the long hair,” Sarah responded. She was a blond, and the skinniest among the group. As a result, she really didn’t have much of an ass, but her breasts more than made up for that.

“Oh, the hippy dude!” Haley shouted, a smile on her face. She may have had a crush on him.

“That snot ball? He looked like hadn’t showered in two weeks!” Michele interjected. Haley gasped, slightly offended. That’s was her future husband they were talking about.

“No, not him. The other one,” Sarah corrected.

“Oh, the one with the bitch tits?” Michele asked, her bitchy nature showing itself once again.

“No, not the one with the bitch tits. The cute one, with the glasses.”

“The hipster?” Haley asked.

“Yeah!” Sarah exclaimed. She had a thing for nerds. By which I mean anyone with glasses. But they had to be cute. And in shape. And not have any imperfections at all. And they couldn’t play video games either, because that’s stupid. You know, nerds.

  Before either of her two friends could answer, they were gripped by the passion of a random gust of wind.

“Ah!” They all screamed in unison, frightened by the sudden, and completely not frightening at all, event. They soon recovered, however, and started their deep and complex conversation again.

To everyone in the vicinity, that minor windstorm would have seamed like nothing more than a small annoyance. But, it was much more than that to one particular creature.

Was it the pigeon sitting on the lamppost above, its butt about ready to explode its contents on the girls below? Was it the alligator in the sewer? Was it the businessman who happened to be on a very important business call? Could it be the guy who was riding his bike only a foot away from that man, hot coffee placed precariously in the basket? Or could it be the alien who was sitting quit peacefully in an alley to the right, cloaked with an alien-cloaking machine? Was it the ghost who was meeting with a demon on the other side of the fountain, planning revenge for what happened during the HALO project? Perhaps it was the other alien who was disguised as a homeless man and far to busy grumbling to himself about the events on planet H-raven to notice anything? Or was it the fly that everything else of importance has happened to? That last option would be rather predictable, wouldn’t it?

Find out next time on…

A Fly On The Wall!

Chapter End Notes:

A short chapter this time. Sorry about not getting this out quicker. Actualy, I'm not. I don't know why i wrote that. Anyway, I've been working on another, slightly more seriouse work that should be hitting the mostrecent section any day now. So keep an eye out for that as well.

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