Born Hard Again: Book Three of the Future Remembered Chronicles by Bo Unce Page A

Koochy and I continued to burn sticky notes and toss them ahead of our vehicle.
    Alphonso was no longer shaking and turning blue, but was a blistered bright red and sobbing instead.
    "Owww," he whined.  "Did I...  did I do okay?  Did I save us?"
    "Yes," I told him.  "I'll never doubt the can-can system again.  Now we are in control of our destiny, moving forward with high velocity, and we can use our tasks to change direction and react quickly!  We are agile!"
    "Can you... can you get me.. into the... surgipod, Preston?" Alphonso gasped with much effort.
    I looked around the sled interior but didn't see the healing chamber of which he spoke. 
    "It's... it's... over there..." Alphonso raised a blistered, shaky finger and pointed at a one of cryo-tubes against the wall.
    "Damn, son," Koochy scathed.  "That ain't no damn surgi-pod, dat's a damn cryo-tube!  Don't you be knowin' tha difference seein' as how yer a damn Vice-Admiral and all?"
    "But...but... it.. healed me, Koochy.  It literally healed my knee," he explained.
    "Mane, get tha fuck out wit' dat shit.  Yo' ass what'n hurt fo' shit," Koochy dismissed Alphonso's experience. 
    "No, Koochy, it was, like, really bad.  Really bad.  I saw some drops of blood and everything," he continued.
    "Ay P, get this crispy ass critter out muh face.  Ass-face-ho', I deal wit' yo' ass when we get ta da OC," Koochy turned his attention to me.  "P, ya need ta get out ta tha front of tha sled and hang some damn heat out in fronta dem icy bitches!"
    I looked at Alphonso's sorry state and reflected on Koochy's request.
    "Uh... how about I don't do that," I declined.  "Can't we just keep using these burning sticky notes?  Or, can't you do some kind of hologram stuff or something fake?"
    "Use yo damn eyes, son.  We fixin' ta run out deese damn stick-ass notes!"  He gestured at the rapidly shrinking pile of small yellow pads by the can-can board.  "We needa get our shit su-stain-aboh!"
    He was right, of course.  Old Cleveland wasn't yet visible on the horizon and we had only another few minutes of fiery sticky-notes left.  Alphonso wasn't in any kind of state to go back out on a mission.  I regretted being cavalier with his frostbite.  Dammit, I missed my future remembered powers.  If I still had them, I would know if the next adventure may be my worst yet. 
    "All right," I told Koochy, dourly.  "What do I need to do?"
    "Yeah, P!  Das my boy!  Oh shit, P.  You needa hit deese sick ass brain-WAY-ves befo' yo ass go out dere an' get in it, ya know what I'm sayin'?" Koochy coughed through the compute-pad.
    I rolled my eyes.
    "No thanks.  I'll need my head on straight if I'm going out there.  But, what am I doing out there?" I asked him again.
    "Take dis broke ass pole from in here," Koochy pointed at a piece of the chariot's ceiling that had fallen onto the floor at some point during all of the recent turmoil.  "And take dis gripa energy cells I wired up," he handed me a small sack.  "Put dat shit on dat pole and go put it out on tha fronta this yoke lookin' thang I done put on dem ice thangs."
    Despite his impossible grammar, I got the gist of what he wanted me to do.  It was genius, really.  I snatched up the bar he had pointed out and stopped at the door to look back at Koochy and the charred Alphonso.
    "Wish me luck, guys," I nodded at them.
    "Man, get yo ass out dere," Koochy bade me farewell.
    I jumped out of the sled and landed with ten dull thuds as my dicktoes struck the ice.  The... what had Marcus called them?  Mollusca maritimus! were very impressive creatures to behold.  Creeping stealthily, I walked between the beasts.  At times, my face was inches from their slimy, oozing bodies.
    Their bodies looked like whale blubber trapped within a translucent, oil-sheened skin that was quite porous and weeping profusely.  I wasn't sure what the thick and sickly tinted fluid was that was streaming freely from the thousands of orifices in their hulking