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American Dream Serialization (Early Chapters)
Introduction to Jim Chaffee's Studies in Mathematical Pornography by Maurice Stoker
Introduction to Jim Chaffee's Studies in Mathematical Pornography by Tom Bradley
Studies in Mathematical Pornography: American Dream Title Page by Jim Chaffee
Studies in Mathematical Pornography: Chapter 1 by Jim Chaffee
Studies in Mathematical Pornography: Chapter 2 by Jim Chaffee
Studies in Mathematical Pornography: Chapter 3 by Jim Chaffee
Studies in Mathematical Pornography: Chapter 4 by Jim Chaffee
Studies in Mathematical Pornography: Chapter 5 by Jim Chaffee
Studies in Mathematical Pornography: Chapter 6 by Jim Chaffee
Studies in Mathematical Pornography: Chapter 7 by Jim Chaffee
Studies in Mathematical Pornography: Chapter 8 by Jim Chaffee
Studies in Mathematical Pornography: Chapter 9 by Jim Chaffee
01-01-2015
Modern Tragedy, or Parodies of Ourselves by Robert Castle
01-11-2014
Totally Enchanté, Dahling by Thor Garcia
01-04-2014
Hastini by Rudy Ravindra
The Satyricon of Petronius Arbiter Volume 5 Translation by W. C. Firebaugh
01-01-2014
Unexpected Pastures by Kim Farleigh
10-01-2013
Nonviolence by Jim Courter
The Satyricon of Petronius Arbiter Volume 4 Translation by W. C. Firebaugh
07-01-2013
The Poet Laureate of Greenville by Al Po
The Apocalypse of St. Cleo, Part VI by Thor Garcia
The Satyricon of Petronius Arbiter Volume 3 Translation by W. C. Firebaugh
04-01-2013
The Apocalypse of St. Cleo, Part V by Thor Garcia
The Apocalypse of St. Cleo, Part IV by Thor Garcia
The Satyricon of Petronius Arbiter Volume 2 Translation by W. C. Firebaugh
01-01-2013
The Apocalypse of St. Cleo, Part I by Thor Garcia
The Apocalypse of St. Cleo, Part II by Thor Garcia
The Apocalypse of St. Cleo, Part III by Thor Garcia
The Satyricon of Petronius Arbiter Volume 1 Translation by W. C. Firebaugh
10-01-2012
DADDY KNOWS WORST: Clown Cowers as Father Flounders! by Thor Garcia
RESURRECTON: Excerpt from Breakfast at Midnight by Louis Armand
Review of The Volcker Virus (Donald Strauss) by Kane X Faucher: Excerpt from the forthcoming Infinite Grey by Kane X Faucher
01-07-2012
Little Red Light by Suvi Mahonen and Luke Waldrip
TEXECUTION: Klown Konfab as Killer Kroaked! by Thor Garcia
Miranda's Poop by Jimmy Grist
Paul Fabulan by Kane X Faucher: Excerpt from the forthcoming Infinite Grey by Kane X Faucher
01-04-2012
Operation Scumbag by Thor Garcia
Take-Out Dick by Holly Day
Patience by Ward Webb
The Moon Hides Behind a Cloud by Barrie Darke
The Golden Limo of Slipback City by Ken Valenti
01-01-2012
Chapter from The Infinite Atrocity by Kane X. Faucher
Support the Troops By Giving Them Posthumous Boners by Tom Bradley
01-10-2011
When Good Pistols Do Bad Things by Kurt Mueller
Corporate Strategies by Bruce Douglas Reeves
The Dead Sea by Kim Farleigh
The Perfect Knot by Ernest Alanki
Girlish by Bob Bartholomew
01-07-2011
The Little Ganges by Joshua Willey
The Invisible World: René Magritte by Nick Bertelson
Honk for Jesus by Mitchell Waldman
01-04-2011
Red's Dead by Eli Richardson
The Memphis Showdown by Gabriel Ricard
Someday Man by John Grochalski
01-01-2011
I Was a Teenage Rent-a-Frankenstein by Tom Bradley
Only Love Can Break Your Heart by Fred Bubbers
10-01-2010
Believe in These Men by Adam Greenfield
The Magnus Effect by Robert Edward Sullivan
Performance Piece by Jim Chaffee
07-01-2010
Injustice for All by D. E. Fredd
The Polysyllogistic Curse by Gary J. Shipley
How It's Done by Anjoli Roy
Ghost Dance by Connor Caddigan
Two in a Van by Pavlo Kravchenko
04-01-2010
Uncreated Creatures by Connor Caddigan
Invisible by Anjoli Roy
One of Us by Sonia Ramos Rossi
Storyteller by Alan McCormick
01-01-2010
Idolatry by Robert Smith
P H I L E M A T O P H I L I A by Traci Chee
They Do! by Al Po
Full TEX Archive
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Orgulho - Part 3

I woke up dreaming I had a mouthful of rotten tennis shoes. I'd expected Gloria to be gone, given what she'd told me, and wasn't disappointed. I went into the bathroom and peed. I brushed my teeth, but they still felt coated with something I didn't want to think about. When I flossed the stench nearly took my head off so I brushed and flossed again and then sniffed the floss up close. The foul odor had dissipated some so I finished by burning up my mouth with fiery mouthwash. I spit it out and gargled a second mouthful of the stuff.

Gloria'd left her number on the table beside the bed. I let it fester there and went to the safe. I took out my card and checked my credits. I took out the slip of paper with the number and name I'd been given before leaving HQ. I needed a weapon. Bringing one in had been too dangerous, but this place was supposed to be backwater enough weapons were easy to get.

I called the number. A man's voice answered with a growl that sounded something like "Yeah." Since all languages but the official Orgulhian English were illegal, I figured the speaker was being a jerk. Or he was a feral.

"I need to see Matt about some merchandise. Raymond said to mention his name."

"Never heard of no fucking Raymond."

"You Matt?"

"Maybe."

"Raymond said you'd remember Mateus."

"That shit sucks. Meet me at dog house. You know?"

"I do." It was one of a number of rotating meeting places I'd been briefed on, deep in the feral ghetto. "I'm on my way."

When I got there the whole scene reeked of ferals. A handful of men stood around a fenced pit where two dogs, one mottled pink and blue, the other a dirty brownish-black, circled each other, snarling and drooling. The mottled one's torn ear ran blood and canine fang punctures freshly scabbed dotted its white muzzle with rips and tears. It had teardrop eyes and delicate pink nostrils, like a rabbit, and it backed away from the other dog.

I thought of Gloria. She'd gone back to the club to sleep. Said all her things were there and the girls all slept there. Just as well; I was pretty much finished with her. I needed to see her tonight, but I hoped that it would be close to the last time.

Four orgasms, she'd said. I thought I was losing it. I needed to get back in shape. As tuned as she was, I should've coaxed more than four out of her. Even barely tuned bitches shuddered through eight or ten in a couple hours. Maybe it was an off night. Maybe I wasn't paying enough attention.

I asked for Matt but the men waved me off. I watched with them as the pink-nosed, mottled dog came in low with a sudden lunge for the dark brute's neck and locked on. With a fast head toss it pulled back with a mouthful of flesh. The other dog's head lolled to one side. It tried to stand but followed its head into the spreading pool of its own blood.

Paper exchanged hands. I realized it was some kind of money. I almost laughed. The Orgulhian overlords had ended the quaint practice of currency ages ago. These were ferals. Only thing better'n coaxing orgasms out of tuned sluts was decimating ferals. My dick was getting hard.

Someone crept up behind me. He hadn't been ringside and he surprised me with a giant hand on my shoulder and what I took to be a weapon in my back.

"Walk where I indicate. This is a big-ass gun. I don't need your business. Smelling like trouble and I put a big-ass hole in you."

He indicated me over to a small shed that looked like it might fall over any minute. Once inside the place opened into a cavernous warehouse. He let out something like a chortle, as if this was a new trick to me. The guy was pure backwater.

"What you want?" he asked. "I hate Mateus. There no such person as Raymond."

"He said you made Orgulhians suck your dick."

He did the chortling noise again and pulled the gun from my back, then turned me around so we were face to face. He was taller, an unusual thing, but skinny. His mottled flesh reminded me of the winning dog's body, pinks and blacks and some peeling white patches. Black hands.

"I need a weapon. Smart one, with mental selection and mental guards. I want the range from explosions to just lead."

"Need t'tune it to ya."

"If you have one, I can do it myself."

He led me to a giant vault that opened when he put his hand on a round glass plaque. Inside we faced a wall of weapons, barrels in, butts out.

"Pick one," he said.

I made a quick round and grabbed the one that called out to me. It almost jumped into my hand. I turned and pointed it at the man. He didn't flinch.

"Won't work," he said.

I pointed it over his shoulder and fired out the open vault door. His eyes widened.

"Sure it works," I said. "I have a genetic communing with these weapons. I can destroy all the other links but this one right now. And I don't need this to kill you."

I stepped up and grabbed his face and pushed until it crumpled like a paper cup in my hand, his brains seeping out his nostrils and his eyes exploding from his head. I left him in a heap. I opened a box and grabbed ten small grenades and dropped the milky marbles into my pocket. I rolled another handful of them into the vault and shut the door. The vault collapsed into a molten pile of rubble in a silent explosion.

Outside the warehouse I blew the rest of the grenades in the box and watched the shed disappear. The men at the pit turned to look at me and I killed them all with the weapon. Then I killed the winning dog.