Neoteny is Monotony
Flash-Fiction. Under 1000 words.
April the 3rd is the day when she took off her shirt and I discovered that my dog-headed wife of twenty years had testicles for boobs. I was 19.
I was married about a year before actually being born and so was "she" (if you could still call her that, I mean... chest-gonads!). We were arranged births and an arranged marriage. Because unborn babies are the new Hot Singles apparently and our fucked-sideways-in-the-head parents get us hooked up before our genders are even biologically determined.
Now, you might ask, what kind of hilariously pre-modern, backwards society practices such a thing? Laugh and gawk all you want, because that society is yours/ours. The year is 2025.
She slams her boobnuts up against the sides of my head and motorboats my snout between them By the way, I'm a fox. I know, I know... stereotypical right? Well, fuck you. I am the only fox I've ever met. There are no foxes any more.
Now before you zip up your pants and put away your cock, Shirley, you should know that in this society - which is yours/ours - everything has been made to look as adorable as possible - and this is all about efficiency. There are no foxes because we are not quite efficient enough at being cute... and this is all about efficiency. Cuteness is a scientific formula. That's why it's subject to Moore's Law or something. Everything in this world is as cute as physically possible. It's cutenomics. This is not unrealistic.
You think that's unrealistic? A world where perfect cuteness is ubiquitous? Then you are a cunt-headed cunt with a cunt for a head - whom is also an ignoramus. Because I live in this doll-eyed, baby-faced hell. I skulk (pun!) around through streets filled with cars conceived by first-graders and finalized by Lisa Frank. You know, the purple rainbow vomit unicorn school-supplies and stationary people? Yeah, they make cars now.
You know what is unrealistic? The fact that my dog-headed wife fires dildoes out of her nose on command. Who does that? She does - and that's why I love her despite this fox being rather gay.
Shut up. I am the only gay fox I've ever met. Go away - no wait! Don't. I like it when... people watch. Just stay right there. Look... but never touch. NEVER touch.
Making the world preposterously adorable was easy. It's not unrealistic at all, you doucheherder.
Making everything (literally, everything) maximally adorable is easy. It is the easiest design effort ever embarked upon by civilization. I just cannot express to you how unbelievably easy it was.
You just make absolutely everything look like babies. Human babies_._
Did I say put your cock away, Skittles? No I didn't. Pull it back out. That's right, your name is now Skittles.
Now talk dirty to the babies you turned everything into because babies make me throw up. I'd rather fuck the tailpipes of a dumptruck than something designed to hack the Uncanny Valley by defaulting to neotenous proportions.
Those big words mean I don't find giant heads, flat faces and enormous eyes cute. Someday, the things that kill us all will match that exact description, you know.
Babies will rain fire down upon us all, you shitflounders.
I know that my dog-headed wife, who was told by the hideous motherfuckers back in high school that she was ugly and gaunt and pointy and everything that isn't baby-like, is the most fuckable thing left in this world of baby-shaped nymphomaniacs who want to fuck anything with a huge head and severely diminished body. Because they like being in control or something Freudian and sexual. I don't know.
Sigmund Freud would probably just fuck all your brains out with a cigar that may or may not be just a cigar, if he had the chance.
My dog-headed wife at least has testicles for breasts. I take comfort in this notion.
On April 3rd, 2025, her (nards-for-boobs) and I (last gay fox alive), in it (the fuckable dumptruck) are like the last gay couple in a world where being like straight means having sex with things that look like babies. I am going to point my dumptruck at the horrible baby-shaped people of the future and do what Sigmund Freud should have done if he were undead and able.
My dog-headed wife spews another PVC gel donkeycock from her nose with a sneeze. She sticks it between my foxlegs and with every bump and random passerby we run down, the dildo slips just an inch further up my tight little foxarse and I finger her babycannon while looking away (While whispering to myself that Vagina Dentata is not real, over and over again). This is how we spend our weekends. Fucking and Killing and fucking with each other and killing with each other. In a world where everything except us, and our blood-splattered dumptruck, looks like babies.
Thanks, Japan.