Chapter 6

Saturday at 2:03

Being Special Is Not Special

As Viktor left for Prague to become an engineer, Ross and Bobina were living their friendship like in the good old days of kindergarten. They walked paw in hand through the flowery fields behind the pig farm, they picked mushrooms in the nearby forest, they chuckled together to Ross's awkward jokes. They bathed on full moon nights naked in the frog pond in front of Kewl Atta Bubba under the lecherous eyes of the local night watch Russ Kurvíček that was walking around the village under influence, trumpeting midnight. One night Ross has examined the brown line at the back of Bobina's white panties with his sensitive snort when Bobina was far in the water. He got mixed sensations. It smelled like desire, but it also smelled like the truth. His lizard brain performed a quick semi-automated analysis and decided to go with the desire.

His schlong in the front and his lizard tail at the back were often standing both at attention when Ross was spending time with this wonderful pixie Bobina. She truly knew how to create an aura of divinity around her. Or perhaps she did not, maybe it was just the hormone concentration in her blood that was doing the magic for her, we would not know. Though her bodily functions were the same as of any other human, he was truly convinced that she does not fart and if she does occasionally, the hot air smells like violets. Ross was truly enchanted by this teenage witch, he did not see her as she was, and longed for Bobina but she was not returning his feelings. She was destined to get pregnant with an engineer, not with a lizard, even he was mega. But Ross wanted a true partner, not a mollycoddling nanny feeling sorry for him.

He was desperate. He was unique in many ways like he was the only lizard of human size and skills around, he had stinky breath and long sharp teeth and dirty claws on the paws. However, none of his ways of being unique were to be prized in the meat market. Nowadays he could become a star on Instagram or have his Youtube freakshow, earn a lot of money and buy any human female partner he would want, but back then those technologies were not available. As much as he wanted, he simply could not bed a human female and it was driving his nuts nuts.

It did not help that the whole village noticed that the many ways he was special in were not a victory in the game of human natural selection. He could have scored with any lizard, but not with a chick. He was so ashamed to hear the chorals of his coworkers as he entered the Kewl Atta Bubba after his shift: "megaleezawrd, megareetawrd!!!" they were screaming and chanting. He was a lizard after all, but not a retard, in the least not relative to his specie. He was not the brightest bulb on the human tree but he was smarter than many "authentic humans" working in the fields of the united farmer's cooperative. Bad Brown Wolf howled the loudest of all, for he grew some balls after Viktor left Coyoteen.

It is hard to be a megalizard when you live amongst mainstream humans. Ross had the same aspirations as them, he had the same skills, though a bit sub-optimal, but his looks, his DNA chain was different. He was destined to fail in human society, he just did not know it yet. Back in those days, he was still very determined to succeed and he was ready to do anything for it, including sacrificing his morals.

Chapter 5

27. june 2020 at 1:55

V3S Sh!tsucker

It would give me great pleasure to spend my nights typing away the adventures of Ross the Megalizard and his friends one after another. I have all the fantasy and all the time in the world. My days are like nights and my nights are like nights. My daily life is one long night. Any time I look outside of my windows, there is dependable ice-cold darkness sprinkled with stars as bright or brighter than on a beach somewhere on a remote island in the Pacific.

I am on board of spaceship V3S Sh!tsucker. My companions are frozen to preserve their biological lifetime while I serve a 5-year watch over the ship's AI engine. My only job is to submit its decisions to natural supervision, making sure its intelligence doesn't get too intelligent to hack its purpose to serve the sentient life aboard. The chance of AI mutiny is by design approximating zero. My days are spent lounging on a magic flying carpet made of silky happiness induced by mild anesthetics mixed in the spaceship's air, counting the blessings God has rained upon me. We don't get high here, we just chill. Spending 5 years all by myself waiting for the end of my shift is actually not much different than peacefully sleeping for one night. This is already my 3rd term of this kind after which I will be replaced by another colleague, then frozen again into hibernation and wait for my next term coming up in a few decades.

Now you may perhaps understand why typing up Ross's stories gives me the pleasure. It's not the stories. It's the opium derivative that laces the air that I breathe. I would feel the same way if I was handwriting punishment lines one thousand times, or toiled away processing invoices in the accounting department, or knelt in the corner with my nose pressed against the wall. It's dope. But we don't get high here, we just chill.

Technically I am the only conscious being on the ship. No one bothers me and I can walk through the halls, listening to classical music or just the silence and the quiet hum of the aircon. I am a soliloquist. We have been taught that way, because if you don't speak for an extended period of time, you may lose the skill. So I either talk to myself, or to the android, if I am in the mood. Mostly I am not. I am a deep introvert. Even pretense of human conversation with a machine drains me of energy. When I don't write or sleep, I spend my waking time sitting on a comfy chair in the control room, like a bus driver looking ahead at the expansive sky and the stars we are flying towards through the wide, wide "windshield". Except there is no wind in space. Even better when I sit in one of the side rooms, with a loop of a cozy fireplace on a large flat screen, while sipping ice-cold beer. I love looking at the stars behind the window, though I do miss the rain or snow and wind that I used to watch on Earth from inside of the warm log cabin back in Canada.

Our process requires us to keep a strict schedule. We have to spend eight hours sleeping and sixteen hours awake. We don't call it a day, we call it a cycle. Our process requires strict adherence to the cycle. It's similar to how people live on Earth. Who knows what could happen if we deviate from the rhythm that natural selection burned into our bodies over millions of years. Normally after sixteen hours of waking time the Sh!tsucker's systems shut down, lights go out, my room illuminated only by the dim stars outside, so I can find my bed and go to sleep. Then it's up again after eight hours.

Chapter 4

20. june 2020 at 2:35


Years went by and the Troika was growing up. After Coyoteen Elementary, they all continued in Coyoteen High, although Ross the Megalizard only barely passed the entrance exams. He was high on ambition, but his limited intellectual abilities predisposed him to manual jobs, so he was recommended to continue with an apprenticeship. Marie went to school and begged the director to admit Ross and since he was an ideologically dependable and active young pioneer, the school made an exception and Ross was allowed to start.

Viktor, on the other hand, coped with the demands of education swimmingly because of his smarts, but he had absolutely no ambition to achieve. However, Bobina's father, chairman Black issued a challenge and everything changed. His daughter was growing up to be a very eligible young lady attracting many potential suitors. Her father, a chairman of the united farmers cooperative and a big shot in the communist party's hierarchy in the village, would not give Bobina to Mr. Nobody. One Sunday afternoon, after a couple of cold ones and a shot of peppermint liquor at Kewl Atta Bubba, he announced: "I will only give my daughter and half the cooperative to someone who will lay an engineering university degree at her feet."

Both Ross the Megalizard and Viktor Krebs were in love with Bobina. Becoming adults, they were realists and knew their future would include drinking beer, fighting, and having sex with female partners of adversaries they managed to defeat. The Troika was destined to shrink by one member, and the departing party for sure would not be Bobina. What would be the weapon of choice for the two cocks on one dump? As Ferraris were not available at the time in Coyoteen, it could be fists, an ax, or membership ID in the communist party. Chairman Black preferred an engineering university degree and the die were cast.

After high school graduation, they both applied to the technical university in Prague, but only Viktor was admitted. Ross's ideological dependability, his accomplishments in the pioneer organization, and his mother's visit to Prague did not help. He would never become an engineer and he would never live in a big city. He was assigned to the local cooperative as a septic truck driver. "You're already used to the odor, Ross," said chairman Black, hinting at the Megalizard's stinky breath, "so you may realize potential synergies at this position."

As Ross started to experience intense bouts of ill will and hatred towards the mainstream society that plagued his emotional life for years to come, Viktor has packed his bags and boarded a night train to Prague. The big city was awaiting him, with all its lights, pleasures, and university classrooms. "I will be back for you, Bobina Black, I will be back as an engineer," Viktor announced on his last night in Coyoteen, observed by blood-shod eyes of Ross the Megalizard. The paths of the two former friends, members of the Troika have parted. The two men would only meet years later, in an epic clash that would shake Coyoteen to its core.

Chapter 3

12. june 2020 at 23:10

New kid on the block

Years were passing by fast forward and the Megalizard was now attending Coyoteen Elementary School. One day, someone new joined the class. His name was Viktor and he was a son of Nazi general Hans Krebs. Born in the German embassy in Moscow, he attended elite Soviet kindergarten for children of diplomats and was fluent in Russian. Why he stayed in the Soviet capital while his father blew his brains out and painted the wall in the Fuehrer's bunker in Berlin red no one knows. The reasons for Viktor's coming to Coyoteen are not entirely known either. His mother, Elizaveta, a Russian concubine of general Krebs, got a job in the cooperative as a notice-board editor pinning newspaper cutouts and announcements for all to see. That used to be a job for reliable regime prodigies, so there must have been a good reason for their arrival.

Viktor was assigned two years below his grade because he spoke Czech poorly. Soon after joining the class, he was bullied by the Bad Brown Wolf that wanted to steal Viktor's American cigarettes. Viktor was 3 years Wolf's junior because the Wolf kept failing his classes as was the tradition of his specie. Viktor was not afraid of him. The force of Mother Russia and his Teutonic Fatherland was with him. He quickly subdued the Wolf, bent him over the school desk, and pulled out a meter-long garden rubber hose. Then he proceeded to give the Wolf the spanking of his life. Desperate howling has soon filled the halls of Coyoteen Elementary, as the hose was stinging his bare ass that was already showing purple welts.

When Viktor was done with him, the Wolf was a sorry lump of sobbing sorrow. He knew he would not sit down for a week. Viktor looked at him, put his rubber hose back in his school bag as if it was a part of a ritual, grabbed Wolf's head by his hair, gave him a juicy Brezhnev kiss on the lips, and told him: "Теперь иди домой и покайся. Я прощаю тебя, только не делай этого снова." Then he turned to the other kids with his light blue eyes under his strawberry-blond fringe cut and asked: "anyone else for a spanking?" The class was quiet. They knew they met their maker.

After the incident, Viktor quickly befriended Ross who also had issues with the Wolf and was happy to close alliance. I suspect the real reason though was the Megalizard's pretty friend Bobina Black. At 13, she was already growing up to be a woman. In white shirt accessorized with red pioneer scarf and protruding teen breasts, dark blue skirt, long skinny legs in white knee-highs, and black Mary Janes she was an early bloomer and a sexy bitch. And Viktor took notice.

Although he had above average smarts, he had no interest in spiritual or intellectual endeavors and later became known for his accomplishments in the field of romance, law enforcement, and secret service. He grew up to be the Soviet bloc version of Chuck Norris, Hugh Hefner, and James Bond all rolled into one, nick-named the Stud of Coyoteen, but we are yet again getting ahead of our story. For now, it will suffice to say that he was Bobina's and Ross's best childhood friend and they became known as "the Troika".

Chapter 2

6. june 2020 at 2:19

The Megalizard confronts Bad Brown Wolf and saves his hockey stick

This happened at the time when the only thought crime in Coyoteen was public disagreement with the official line of the Communist Party of Czechoslovakia. Ross the Megalizard was about five years old. Now there are more types of thought crimes instituted by the European Empire, but that analysis is out of the scope of this chapter. Ross the Megalizard was bigger than other lizards of his age in the area but relatively small to creatures four or five years senior to him. That's where the Bad Brown Wolf comes in.

It was Christmas time, the snow was falling on the flatlands of Haná surrounding Coyoteen and the frog pond between the church and Kewl Atta Bubba was frozen. Children were skating on the ice and some played ice hockey. That is a game that is played by some barbarian tribes north of Florida and also in the far east of Europe like Coyoteen. Since Ross was a good lil' lizard, he got a hockey stick as a gift from Baby Jesus. They don't have Santa over there and back then they probably did not even have Coca Cola. So anyway, after the Christmas Eve dinner, Ross picked up his hockey stick and his skates and he went on the pond to join a late-night hockey game. And that's where the Bad Brown Wolf comes (finally) in.

He was 5 years older than Ross the Megalizard. He was double his age and about 130% of his size. Stronger, demanding, and self-righteous as he was, he thought that the hockey stick should change ownership to his hands. So he went and grabbed it but the Megalizard fought back and would not give it to the Bad Brown Wolf. Other kids surrounded the fighting pair, expressing support to one or the other party. Soon it was obvious that the brute force would prevail. Ross would not drop his stick, but the physical damage Wolf's fists were causing on the little Megalizard's face would wear him out. Ross had flickering twinkles in front of his eyes and his strength was waning. What to do now?

"Grab his balls!" screamed Bobina Black, the Megalizard's friend since the kindergarten. She used this trick with unruly boys when things got out of her hand (no pun intended) and she knew how this grasp works wonders. So Ross the Megalizard dropped the hockey stick with one hand and grabbed Bad Brown Wolf's jewels in an instant, and squeezed forcefully. The Wolf howled with sharp pain. Simultaneously, Ross opened his mouth full of long sharp rotten teeth and blew his foul-smelling breath into his enemy's face. Bad Brown Wolf fell instantly sick, dropped the hockey stick, bent over, and started vomiting violently. The ice was soon covered with the steaming contents of his stomach, including sausage, granules, and goulash soup, mixing with the warm sweet blood dripping from Ross's broken nose. After the Wolf was finished throwing up, he said "kurva" and ran back to his housing project to his Bad Brown Wolfmother.

Ross the Megalizard learned his first three important lessons in life. To vanquish rivals, you need to be insidious. And that grabbing balls is good, as long as you are on the giving end. And that Bobina Black was his true friend and soulmate and maybe later lover.

Chapter 1

30. may 2020 at 6:37

The Megalizard of Coyoteen is born

Many eons ago, far, far away from the stinky swamps and shiny, formerly perfumed, now defunct-and-dilapidating shopping malls of Florida, in a remote corner of one of the European Empire's far-eastern provinces, there was a village called Coyoteen. It had a village common with a Catholic church standing in one corner and the pub Kewl Atta Bubba in the other. A dirty pond full of frogs sat between them. There was a trailer park with colorful circus caravans, a piggery, a meat processing plant, and a united farmers cooperative worked the many fields surrounding the village.

In this bizarre milieu, a curious alien-like creature was born. His mother gave him the name of Ross. Her name was Marie, but I do not allude here to the possible Jesus-like supernature of the newborn freak. He was the specie of megalizards of the dark worlds. He grew up to be called the Beast of Coyoteen, changing history in the process. But we are getting ahead of our story. May it suffice to say that Ross was born with teeth, long, sharp, and rotten from the birth, which gave his breath an unpleasant, cadaverous odor. His heart was proudly American, his brain unwittingly Podunk and his birth certificate Czech, a life-long shame for Ross.

Before he was born, his mother was in 30-day labor. She screamed so hard that she shattered the sky. It was shedding hot tears of burning meteors from its cracks. Finally, Marie's thighs spread widely and clouds of ashes and toxic fumes came under pressure from deep inside her anus and blocked the sun rays and threw Coyoteen in many weeks of cold darkness and nauseous stench. A stream of hot magma erupted from deep inside of her tortured glistening womanhood and poured out for six hours, filling up their circus caravan, covering the trailer park with 6 meters of lava, like Pompeii. Ross the Megalizard emerged from the hole with a thunderous roar. "Czechs are peaches!" he shouted. "Bomb, bomb, bomb away like there is no other day!" He was born not only with foul teeth but also with the dubious gift of foul speech.

His father's name was Josef, but I repeat, I do not suggest the Jesus-like supernature of the newborn freak. Josef was a former kulak but after communists nationalized his fields and put them into the cooperative, he left his original calling and became a carpenter. Josef died not knowing that Ross was not his biological son. The sperm donor was a Soviet soldier coming from a nearby base in Holomóc. Marie never told anyone and Volodya was moved back behind the Ural mountains soon, so no one ever found out. Josef the carpenter died at Ross's birth in the eruption of Marie's volcanic pussy, drowned in lava and amniotic fluid, but before he did, he turned his fading sight to the sky full of flames and dust and heaven's falling fiery tears and grunted: "My son's luck is raining upon us."

The Beginning

14. may 2020 at 20:08
In the beginning, he was aboard and he was bored. He was in the beginning.
He said, "I am the voice of one calling in the space darkness."
They asked him, "Then who are you? Are you Him?"
They asked "Are you the Megalizard?"
He answered, "No."

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