While riding on my cloud of sugar puff and candy a bolt of lightning strikes my head as I leave the lands of dreams and fairytales and slowly crawl through the molasses of consciousness. I awaken to a ding and buzz as red lights flash at me alerting my feeble mind that some kind of warning must be going off.

“L.I.V.E. What in the hell is that blasted racket.” I swear at my V.I.’(You know It’s super dumb to swear at her. It’s like antagonizing your own body to do horrible things to you. That’s why I should be the one to antagonize her. She can’t hear me and I don’t lose one of my usefulness being a subconscious being. And we get hurt less…. Just saying.)”

As soon as I finished speaking all the noise stops entirely. “What? What racket? I don’t see or hear any racket. Nope. Not at all. I wouldn’t have turned on the ship disaster system just because you have wasted 1 galactic hour of my time. 100 galactic minutes of time. 10,000 galactic seconds of my very precious time. Nope it’s against corporate alliance regulations to use a disaster system as an alarm clock so there is no log of it in use. You must of dreamed it.” so she says.

My mouth opens and closes like so much gold fish why my internal self proclaims. ‘(You Stupid Dumb Shit God Damn Mother Bitch.(( Brought to you buy a wonderful song that included several wonderful phrases some about driving and staying in lanes. And others about guns in glove boxes. Good times.)) Good times.)’ “Good TImes.” Was important enough from author to consciousness to repeat the important part.

“GOOD TIMES!!?” L.I.V.E shouts. “So you liked that blasting and blaring of eminent death eh?... Not that it happened since it not in the log.” She hastily back pedals.

‘...(Finally got one on the bitch and mental save.)’ I mentally pat myself on the back and then look at myself in the floating dispaly of my white whale of a body though I do look a lot better as moby dick then I did when it was smaller. ‘(And yes the albino whale look hurts my eyes. So smooth no hair anywhere it’s almost like looking at a single sperm who’s tail fell off. Kind of icky.)’ My mind made up I address L.I.V.E. “How to I adjust myself further. ‘(Don’t forget about the pain.)’ WITHOUT…. PAINNNN.” I draw out the last word for emphasis.

“Tch.” The blatant click of the tongue and a very snotty tone of voice applies the following words for my cankerous ears to absorb. “Simply touch the screen and adjust the sliders based on the premises you wish to.” A strange sound of someone spitting. “Improve.”

‘(You know I’m starting to get a feeling like she doesn’t like We very well.((Yes I know the we is awkward there so sue me.)) I think that one of the first things we should do is adjust the fat to man ration down a bit you know more He-a-man less java the hut. And then I slid the slider to slide in the slide track to slide left. “ERK…. BLERGH.” And then I screamed and vomited as I watched what that did to my body in real time. My skin was lasered off like some kind of human fleshed shirt showing all my little insides of muscles and fat leaving only a small area around my belly button attached. Then I watched in horror as nanites came scrambling out of my body as they replicated themselves by using up the fat. It was one of the most grotesque thing I’d ever seen. And immensely thankful to my inner self for remembering to shut off the pain. Or this would have made my snake event look like a snail race. Then the skin shirt gets cut up and reattached in different areas and I can almost hear the nanos running around reattaching the nervous system. ‘(You are welcome for the reminder and we are so having nightmares of this for a very long time. This was pretty gruesome.)’

“Well at least you don’t look like a deflocked butterbell turkey.” L.I.V.E. Proceeds to snark at me.

‘(I agree we look sexy.)’ My inner self comments. “I agree.” I say as the image of myself in the screen shows myself with the QG pose with my hand under my chin. ‘((And the delusion of man is once again proven to be correct no matter how ugly a man still thinks he looks good.))’

“Are you done do you wish to continue?” L.I.V.E. asks me with an almost urgent wish.

“Hold it buttercup. I wish to look more.” As a blinking tab at the bottom right that says species is lit up. I reach for the button