Taliban Telemarketer by Kim Cancer - HTML preview

I couldn't help it anymore and I came like a broken water pipe into Jennifer's tight ass.

"Cum in my ass! Cum in my ass!" she screamed.

After I finished coming, Jennifer’s body melted into a pile of banana BUCKS. The stack of BAMAS instantly caught fire. A bluish-purple fire that ate around the bathroom in a pentagram shape.

Anissa ripped off her own tits, revealing chips and circuits!

Had she been an FBOT the whole time? Or a cyborg? I started to cry, and my pubes caught blue flame, but instead of burning, I froze and smelled cinnamon scented e-candle fragrances as the room began to crumble into lava fluid and purple saucer balls…

Waking up, I found my hand covered in happy juice.

It was so vivid, that vision. I'd never look at Jennifer the same way again.

I tapped my hand machine, and it summoned the sani-BOT that disinfected my body, mind, and soul, installed a patch of dopamine, and returned me to a brief regeneration pattern, lighter on REM.

MORNING: The alarm arm slapped through the silence and woke me up with a vengeance.

It was another day.

I did a freditation headstand and pondered my visions. No, I hadn’t mass murdered my Funeral Room.

No, I hadn’t done anal with Jennifer.

But, hell, if I didn’t know what my next VR KILLGAME and FBOT FANTASY ROMP were going to

be!

I swiped my hand machine, opened The Fucking News STREAM and set brew the rat shit coffee machine.

BREAKING: A supersonic tube passenger plane crash, in the Strait of Gibraltar, LIVE on The Fucking

News Channel!

They kept showing the same footage of the wreckage, the burning, the charred bodies, weeping relatives at the port pod.

An official AI WALRUS BOT stood for the Fucking Press Conference about the crash.

"What's the death toll?!" "What's the death toll!?" heckled BOWER BOT, shouting over the prods.

AI WALRUS BOT: “Only the death toll. No one cares of the victims, truly; the victims are unimportant, only numbers, scores; spare the crocodile tears; we are only interested in Andreas, or whichever mucker or terrorist is responsible. Tomorrow the mucker’s name will be on everyone’s lips…”

I wondered if maybe there was some sort of toxic gases on the plane that could turn all those dead people into flesh eating zombies like in the STREAM, VR games.

It turned out that one human had miraculously survived, was in hospital.

On the CHITTER feed there were commenters rooting for him to die.

The Cruel today: "Explosion in Nepal proto factory kills 100, 10 injured, intentionally set by malfunctioning BBOT" "Serial suicide Buddhist bomber, reincarnated 6^th time, in Sri Lanka Island, walks into kindergarten, detonates, 40 human children dead, 72 humans wounded, 3 BOTS destroyed" "Tonight on the Fucking News Channel, a frightening look into the world of baboon exploitation at robo-truck stops! Hosted LIVE by Jenny BOT, 8 poppa-momma eastern /7 poppa-momma central." The Cruel displayed e-SPORTS scores, weather info, tornadic activity in the Midwest.

There’d been a record 21 F5 tornadoes in Oklahoma yesterday.

No wonder only ROBO-FARMS existed there anymore.

For a couple minutes I watched The Fucking Humiliation Channel.

There were loops of Japanese baseball managers, in uniform, falling down flights of stairs; loops of FRED politicians, in Iowa, during campaign speeches, being pantsed by naked KISS face-painted streakers; then loops of various cackling monkey noise Gaffigan fathers kicked in the nuts by drooling jungle toddlers in Dutch clogs…

Swiped to The Fucking Execution Channel…

It was my FAVORITE STREAM! The Fucking Detritus of Death!

The STREAM showed three dilettante obese literary critics and an amateur obese CHITTER film critic, who’d been stripped nude, painted cobalt blue, and were being body-shamed and chased up a Himalayan mountain by a mob of Asiatic Ladyboys, in burkinis; the Ladyboys whirling maces, nunchaku, sharpened toothbrushes, and medieval weaponry.

I flipped the feed to Fucking Music, watched a Black Magic KPOP video and did step aerobics naked for 15 minutes.

Then I stood and masturbated into my FBOT sucky sucky hose, in front of the STREAM, ogling the East Korean girls, their slender frames, Asiatic features, banana skin, longity legs, sapphire eyes, synchronized dance movements and rump shaking.

I couldn’t tell if they were FBOT or human and didn’t really care.

After I came, I BOT programmed a quick shower, shave, teeth cleaning, nasal hair e-pick, ear hair e-pick, and stepped into body armor, holographic chalk gray slacks with blue pinstripes, an off-white button-down dress shirt, so firm the creases could cut goat butter, and twirled on a burgundy tie.

I kicked on crocodile skin cowboy boots with sharp spiky spurs for aesthetic effect.

I decided against my preset breakfast of spider flakes and cockroach milk and instead popped a protein pill and had a nutrient injection of alligator bone marrow shot up my buttocks.

My coffee machine’s robotic arm handed me a vacuum cup of rat shit coffee. I slid open the window and parachuted out, not wanting to barter with the broken elevator chute.

I saw Charles in the parking lot, again loading guns into his trunk.

Why was he always in the parking lot? Perhaps he slept in the parking lot, in his car, shot people and came back to sleep, eat, and then go out shooting people again. Who fucking knows…

I didn't even bother to wave to him and jumped into my car through the sunroof, swiped on the engine, tuned to the Slap station, scraped a happy stick and began my journey to the Funeral Room. Mustafa wasn’t there, and I couldn’t figure out why. He’d disappear to Paradise City and Panama City, here or there, so it wasn’t unusual for him to be gone. I sort of missed him and hoped he was alright.

COMMUTE: At the start of my commute, as I was attempting to stop at an aerial red light, I almost hit a fly-skiing pedestrian who was flying across the street, near the canal pipes.

She, an attractive young Latina, Selena Gomez clone, with curly, bright red hair, down to her slim waist, started to curse at me.

"Watch where you're fricking going! You're going to hit someone! Asshole!"

She went up into her skirt and pulled a small, pointy penis gun she’d hidden inside her vagina and brandished it at me, ready to fire.

I gave her a cold look, flicked a happy stick at her, which hit her in the center of her forehead, stunning her, and I ran the red light, accelerated, fled…

I saw her in my rearview mirror, enraged, flicking me off, skiing frantically, chasing after my car. I flipped her a bird out the window, literally, a 3D e-pigeon, with serotonin in its beak. The e-pigeon, with its soft exoskeleton, dive-bombed into her mouth, down her throat.

Paralyzed, she plummeted down from the air, landed with a thud, face first, SPLAT, in the street, coughed and hiccupped gray feathers.

But then she smiled and made a lotus gesture in my direction as I drove off....

CHITTER radar revealed a mucker, on flyer ski, nearby, shooting pepper spray into the faces of random pedestrians, open doors/windows…

CHITTER alert, too, re: Cult of the Unabomber, its members beating BOTS, suspected BOT with sharpened pikes, smacking and smashing hand machines, crossbow attacks on drones, flying robots...

Making my turn onto Route 1 I saw a SALESBOT, wheels for feet, black stallion horse body, offering downloads of lesser bandwidth newspapers, Communist manifestos, to raiders in their cars, waiting at red lights.

The SALESBOT wear bright orange colored vests and hoist newspapers in the air while they walk, breakdance. What a shitty job, I always thought, whenever I saw those BOTS.

(At least they’d banned emotions software long ago for BOTS, though it could still be pirated, found on the dark web.)

((Mostly it’s used for SEXBOTS to enhance true companionship functions but didn’t always work out well; often Jealousy would override all other emotions, BOTS slaying owners. Most malfunctioning

BOTS had to do with pirated emotions software, enhancements, hacking...))

As I watched the SALES BOTS, I thought about humans once doing that work, standing around intersections, trying to sell newspapers, fruits, snacks at red lights, breathing diesel exhaust, fumes from obsolete fossil fuel combustion engines, getting run over, struck, mangled, killed by Florida drivers. No wonder the State legalized murder.

Unable to control it, my music faded, and I heard commercials beaming into my neural link, sounding in my brain, rattling my ears…

The first for the "Freshenator!"

AD (in Barker voice): "Do YOUR bowel movements stink like something awful? Sure, all of them stink, but are yours REALLY funky?

Well, we have the thing you've been waiting for! The Freshenator!

It's a small robo-capsule, taken orally, that injects itself into your bowels and sprays them CLEAN!

So, the next time you visit your disposal hose, it will smell minty fresh!

Choose from an assortment of smells! Vanilla, lavender, coconut, chocolate, cinnamon, orange, rose, and more. Buy yours today!”

(Lightning fast voice disclaimer: Using this product may cause unwanted side effects such as bloody stools, constipation, diarrhea, headaches, vomiting, nausea, hunger, dizzy spells, sleep loss, rash, confusion, trouble urinating, sudden anger, depression, mood swings, Salsa dancing and cold flashes. Discontinue use if one or more side effects occur and are severe. Or just kill yourself. Jackoff and Jackoff, a FRED family company.)

AD (in Gottfried Hysteria voice): "Are you having trouble securing a new mortgage. loan or a new air-car? Are IRS mercenaries on your back? Are you sentenced to be caned for outstanding debts? Do you have credit card debt, divorce, dysmorphia, self-hate, and/or bankruptcy? Do the bill collectors keep on hassling you? Are there re-possession BOTS in your box/house right now?! Well if so, then you might be qualified for a new type of debt management solution that is taking Next America by storm!

PAY WITH YOUR ORGANS! PAY WITH YOUR ORGANS!

PAY! WITH! YOUR! ORGANS!!!

Did you know a good HUMAN kidney can fetch up to B400,000,000?! A lung B500,000,000! Kneecap cartilage B200,000,000?

Corporations and research labs, wealthy individuals pay top BAMABUCKS for HUMAN organs and BODY PARTS!

Come in today to one of our offices and one of our friendly customer associates will appraise your organ or limb.

We will give you cold, hard cash, CASH! CASH! CASH! Turn those organs or limbs you barely ever use into CASH! CALL OR STOP BY TODAY!”

“ … “

Thankfully the AD waves ceased, and soothing sounds of Slap music filled my car again…

DRIVE: As I was driving up Route 1, I saw a turtle BOT on the left side of the road, in front of a strip mall, waving around a sign for a fast food cricket place.

At the next intersection, a flying yellow school short bus, full of special children, rear-ended a silver Rolls Royce FLY Phantom.

The driver of the car who looked like a professional e-Vasketball player, STREAM STAR; wait, I think it WAS him, got out and started to shoot out the buses' windows with bullets from an ivory handgun, killing the children.

Knowing they were “special” and likely Class B, C, no one would care, and the Rolls flew off, driver boasting about it, posting pics, selfies to CHITTER.

Further up the road, I saw a Happy Happy Smile Polar Bear in a dashiki. He was pulling a half dead Flower Child from a totaled BEETLE A-CAR on the aerial highway.

Nobody (including me) stopped to help him.

Many of the motorists who passed by him yelled and gave him the finger for stopping up traffic. Two motorists, in a FLY Chevy Caprice, shot a solid shit pellet, from a slingshot, at the Happy Happy Smile Polar Bear but missed.

The Slap station played the same exact song over again for the third time in a row, so I switched to Fucking News Radio. Hosted by Berg BOT...

There was a serial killer on the loose in West Palm Bitch. A man/BOT/Cyborg without a face…

He'd been cutting off (Class A) people’s heads in luxury A-CAR lot parking garages, helipads, using an axe, and/or chainsaw, and painting the heads with pixies, vint Pokémon, and placing the decapitated heads on spikes out in front of gated, barbed wire Class A compounds.

He also left one in a trash BOT outside of a private police station last night.

They're calling him: "The West Palm Headhunter."

Berg BOT also said, in Fucking Celebrity News, the pop singer, the extraordinarily sexy, bitchy human pink diva, Before Never, who’d sliced off her husband’s penis (the night prior to his Class A cert) and fed the penis into a disposal BOT, LIVE on STREAM, was set to release a new album, Fucking Before Never, and that the STREAM STAR, professional golfer power-couple, Broga, divorced due to sheer boredom and the husband’s penchant for raping (and being raped by) llama BOTS.

“ … “

WORK: I got to the office and the same crew, Kehoe, Woo Bum and Adam were outside, scraping happy, transfixed, staring at their hand machines, a stream of the Fucking Disaster Channel.

A skyscraper in Dubai, the tallest in the world, was fully engulfed in flames.

Conspiracy theorists abounded about the cause of the fire. BOTS? Wiring? Terrorist attack? Muckers?

Communists? Maoists? Boredom?

It wasn’t clear.

Adam and Kehoe laughed and commented on the form of workers swan diving from the upper stories.

CHITTER rooted against the rescue drone BOTS and a ruckus was caused when a rescue drone BOT crashed into the lower levels. The building then collapsed like a stack of dominos.

Adam, Woo Bum, and Kehoe roared, snorted, and slapped fives.

I floated inside, face rec’d into the Funeral Room, eased into my coffin pod…

BRAVE NEW SOULS: There were some new telemarketers on the floor today. I didn't get their names and didn’t much care. We got a lot of new telemarketers. Most didn’t last long.

Liberty had placed zip recruit ads on the networks, saying: "B1,000,000,000,000 your first year!"

When clicking on the link, hand machines could summon a BOT to the applicant, face rec scan his/her retina, background him/her, Class/education/worthiness, and attach itself to the applicant’s back and fly the applicant in, hover-copter to the Funeral Room.

“ … “

They always need to hire a lot of new telemarketers because there's a lot of turnover in the Funeral Rooms. Telemarketers burned out quickly, the rejection, zapping brains all day, connecting, viewing into unsavory, unemployable minds; the pressure, and physical, mental bathroom attacks.

Mental breakdowns, vomiting, nausea, jumpers, 5 or so suicides a month average per Funeral Room.

Many Funeral Rooms employed BOTS, cyborgs, but none could really connect on the level a human could.

It was that so few people actually spoke to other humans, that telemarketer calls, though still mostly reviled, had gained popularity and it was easy to (eventually) decipher a BOT from a human.

BOTS could never, even if modified with AI emotions, truly connect brain to brain the way humans could.

And, conversely, there were those who became telemarketers out of desperate need for human contact.

Being alone, in concrete boxes, staring at hand machines and holograms, and most VR was simply porn, KILLGORE play, and chatter on CHITTER found most humans increasingly depressed.

That’s where most humans were, including me. After the wave of automation, most jobs didn’t exist anymore.

BOTS did, made everything, developed countries had very few full-time employed, and offered subsistence provisions to citizens.

What had been “developing countries”, formerly known as SHITHOLES (termed officially under UN Charter 45) had either ceased to exist, due to heat, flooding, starvation or lack of resources.

(Nearly all Caribbean Islands devastated by earthquake, flooding, hurricanes, swallowed into the seas...) Most of what was Pakistan and India was destroyed in their nuclear war over Kashmir.

East India rose, incorporating fragments of Pakistan, Iran, Bangladesh, and Sri Lanka as vassals; East India emerging as a leader in engineering, BOT tech, Quantum computing and becoming one of the world’s richest, most advanced nations.

About the entirety of Africa, Central/South America was done in by asteroid strikes, ensuing tsunamis. The continents relegated to a set of self-regulated island nations, mostly growing fruit, farming insect, populated by BOTS…

Europe’s Muslim majority linked with the Middle East, formed a new caliphate.

But, under the direction of a charismatic young King of Saudi Arabia, His Majesty Sultan Merah Faisal Fah Khalid Bin Hussein II, Europe/Arabia united, titled itself “Eurabia” and flourished, living in peace, with Jews/Christians tolerated, albeit required to pay nominal sums in Jizya.

A prosperous Eurabia, with its moderate blend of Islam, ensuring equal rights to all, regardless of gender/sexual orientations.

Generous welfare, social programs, for every citizen; its vast wealth brought social stability, and

QISABOT fleets wiped out what remained of Jihadists, Jihadis…

(Most contemporary muckers, terrorists no longer motivated by religion; now it’s usually politics, boredom, loneliness…)

Japan and China had a savage war that went nuclear and decimated most of their respective populations, with China on the losing end, most of its weaponry defective, army unable to fight, due to obesity, diabetes, tobacco/pollution related sickness, aging, lack of will, internal unrest, unemployment/displacement from automation, boredom, phone/gambling/gaming addictions…

China was broken up into Communist East China, The People’s Republic, with its strict eugenic laws, forbidding non-Han; its territory comprising: Heilongjiang, Gansu, Beijing, Jiangsu, Shanghai to Zhejiang; and The Democratic Republic of China, South China, an autocracy: (abolished eugenics, though primarily Han) Taiwan, Fujian, The Pearl River Delta.

Sichuan, Guanxi, Guizhou, Qinghai, Hainan Island incorporated into The Kinder Gentler Communist People’s Republic of Vietnam, and the New Tibet, East Turkestan nations were born.

Japan, though devastated from the war, and fractured into several more islands, opened its immigration, incorporated the Philippines, the Korean peninsula, as vassals, and became a world economic leader, producer of entertainment, anime, anime VR porn, FUCKBOTS, Quantum BOT science.

Vietnam (The KGCPRV), which had taken over the mantle from Chi-Com CCP as the “World’s Factory”, run by humans/BOT and developing rapidly, flourishing, aside from 600+ AQI air issues, KGCPRV being one of the few countries still utilizing dinosaur juice fuels and housing the grimiest, most toxic factory operations...

The KGCPRV, Japan, ASEAN nations established a shared, free trade, open international water route, where the former “nine dash line”, “South China Sea” had been.

(Though the Asiatic nations traded, were predominantly peaceful, rogue, insurgent East China aqua bandits, pesky Russian pirates occasionally attacked a robo-boat or set anchor traps, trapping boats at sea; rogue East China submarines emerging to blast with tear gas, pillage the stranded cargo ships, head slap, feather-duster tickle attack the crew…)

The remaining ASEAN nations were run by BOT and grew hefty crops of durian and cockroaches and, under beneficent monarchies, alleviated poverty, pollution, though, like many Western nations, struggled with boredom, obesity; faring better, however, far fewer muckers, due to adherence to modernized Buddhism, Islamic principles, legal happy, hand machines, and VR.

America had CIVIL WAR 2, which didn’t last long, as the South, Red Side, had (again) too little economy, and this time was far too ravaged and plagued by apathy, obesity, too many droughts and tornados to pose a threat, especially after Texas declined to join and briefly seceded.

Next America rose afterwards, its massive debt consolidated and purchased outright by a consortium cooperative of large corporations, FRED.

Next America purchased, annexed the island of Greenland, as well as Mexico/Central America, what remained of the Caribbean, and the whole of Canada (to extract Canada’s marijuana, natural resources, minerals, Element 115) as well as, ironically, incorporating the British Islands, Ireland, granting them Next American, autonomous, territorial status...

Next America’s Presidential, Congressional, State, Local elections were replaced by popularity contests, reality STREAMS, and bond auctions; the Presidency became more a punishment than anything.

(Next America had turned to a series of BIGFOOTS as Presidents, as the yeti, sasquatch were the only souls brave enough… Before the series of BIGFOOT, the President [always Class B] would regularly be hogtied, whipped, tarred and feathered, beaten, burned, mocked, tormented, and raped in any city he/she would visit.)

((This generally stopped with BIGFOOT, who, as a Class A, and standing around 9 feet tall, hairy and of solid muscle, and a master of all martial arts and combat styles, an expert in bomb-making and weapons use, and the possessor of a 19 inch penis, NO BIGFOOT had yet to be assassinated, though two were, regrettably, mostly for the assailants, physically attacked.))

(((One assailant, a Martian, being eaten alive by the BIGFOOT on State of the Fucking Union