i have no excuses

Word count: 794
Project: Children of War

Avert yon eyes, children under 18:
I wrote a short story.

I HAVE NO EXCUSES, NOR APOLOGIES.


This is how it started: an article about zapping testicles as birth control. I tweeted it.


cosmam: It looks like it could help, but not be 100%. That whole "lower" not "eliminate" sperm count.

me: Yeeeah--and the possibility of mutated sperm swimming around just waiting to pass on 3 legs to match their 3 tails is not cool.

cosmam: Unless they pass on laser beam eyes and the ability to chill drinks with a glance, I don't want mutant babies.

me: Ugh, not even then! Can you imagine the terrible two's with LASER BEAM EYES? #burninatingthecountryside #stephenkingwrotethisalready

cosmam: They would just be blindfolded until they were twelve. Because that wouldn't impair their development at all.

me: Just in time to be horny teenagers, and accidentally perpetuate the whole cycle of mutated sperm with their laser eyes!

cosmam: If the sperm have laser eyes, then they will have a hard time conceiving. Pew pew! No egg.

me: But first we need to mutate them into HAVING eyes.

cosmam: Which is somehow creepier than sperm shooting lasers.

me: Naaah. A few good hits or zaps should work. And then... we selectively breed the... sperm?

cosmam: I'm just imagining the poor woman who has to deal with the sperm. Millions of eyes, and they're all inside you, crawling around.

me: That is not any creepier than eye-less sperm, powering blindly into tissue and dying one by one 'til they find the Egg--to HEADBUTT.

cosmam: I think dumb, suicidal brutes is less creepy than things that can see you. They could watch you sleep!

me: They're already INSIDE and actively out to impregnate me. Watching me sleep from the inside out is not so bad.

me: Sad image: dying sperm flopping and gasping like dying goldfish on a bed/inhospitable surface. Unseen. Unheard. ALL AROUND YOU.

cosmam: Maybe I am just more freaked out by millions of things watching me sleep than getting pregnant.

cosmam: Seeking shelter, wiggling only for a place to live. One lone survivor hangs on for as long as possible, but eventually succumbs.

me: This would be the best short story ever. BRB.

cosmam: When you're done, I demand to read it.

chomsky: I have been following this discussion for a little while. I have popcorn.



And voila. I wrote... either something about the patriarchy and sexualization of conflict, or the most immature metaphor ever.