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

forms.  As it whisked off of their bodies and hit the icy ground, it bounced once and froze in mid-air, creating beautiful and elaborate crystalline structures behind them, wherever they went.
    "Gross," I whispered and tried to maneuver so that as little of their excretion as possible splashed on me.
    I reached my goal: the heavy duty yoke and harness that had impossibly sprung from hidden compartments in the front of the sled, ensnaring these two beasts of burden.  Working nimbly, feeling almost fully recovered, I attached the long, slender pole I had brought with me to the rig binding the bleeding snow slugs.  Once it was fully extended and set in place, it stretched out in front of them a good twenty feet.  The small sack of energy cells that Koochy had given me were firmly affixed to the far end of the pole.
    After giving it a small shake to ensure it would hold, I turned to make my way back to the sled's door.  Before I could take my first step, something strange happened.  The large, mute creature to my left leaned in affectionately on me.  It reminded me of the large stray dog that used to come around the DQ back when Whiddington was still alive.  Whenever that dog wanted to be nice to me, usually coinciding with me being in possession of a comestible of some sort, it would press itself gently against me.  Sometimes to the point of both of us falling over. 
    Was this thing coming on to me?
    It made a distinctive thumping noise that was almost a rattle, not quite a purr, as it pressed its hideous flesh into me.  I was now coated in its thick, white emissions.  It wasn't an entirely unpleasant feeling, I realized.  Feeling suddenly very friendly myself, I reached out my palm and intentionally touched the building-sized slug for the first time.  It shuddered fiercely as our skins made contact.  Instantly, I bonded with the creature; feeling linked in both body and mind.
    Quickly, I turned to its kin and placed my other palm on it.  The same reaction occurred and there I stood, feeling godly once again.  A midget, dick-footed messiah, flanked by two gargantuan brutes, coated in ill-looking phlegm.
    Feeling more confident than ever, I lifted one of my feet and let my phallic toes find their way into the many lubricated holes that covered the animal's body.  After repeating this task on the right side, I began to climb steadily up between the frigid slugs.  My toes made disgusting squelching and schlocking sounds as they slid and popped in and out, powering my ascension. 
    "P!" I heard Koochy come over the external loud speakers as I emerged near the top of the monsters.  "P, what tha fuck you doin'?!"
    I waved back at him to signal I did not need saving.
    Once atop the creatures, a single thought crossed my mind and I gave it volume.
    "Go!" I commanded, pointing the direction we had been going.  I hoped this was the direction we should continue going.
    My latest disciples complied and we began sluicing forward with surprising speed.  I dug my dick-toes in tight and had no trouble standing on top of the enormous critters that pulled Putin's badly battered sled across the frozen lake Erie, ever closer to Old Cleveland.  The sun was finally breaking through the fog and clouds of early morning, and a blazing ray of its holy light pierced the sky like God's wang.  It found me like a spotlight, and for a moment that seemed to last for minutes, I was framed in brilliant orange sunlight.  Truly, a god among men, and a sight to behold.
    "Onward!  Onward, my frosty brutes!" I howled into the empty early morning.  So cold was the wind that it sliced at my face like a long ribbony razor as we tore across the great ice sheet of Erie.  Stoic, I did not so much as blink at the stinging of the prolonged polar gusts.
    "P, we killin' it, son!" Koochy's voice, amplified by the external loudspeakers on the chariot, was barely audible over the roar of the wind and the swoosh of my giant mounts on the ice.  "How tha