/lit/ - Literature

>>21239500
(5/7)

Domino's Psychic Copy Domino David Domingo:

Domino David Domingo—3D to his friends—is always just somewhere beyond three seconds either behind or ahead of his best buddy and psychic twin D3, the legendary lawyer.

Anyway, 3D is with his pals Guy, Black Angus, D3 and Hand, shooting around the target range: BANG BANG BANG etc. The range is an awful lot like a car showroom. 12,500,000 watts chattering D3's teeth with each squeeze.

When the BANGs pitter out, the door swings open and a group of women sashay in. After a shimmering beat or two, the now-man-children gawk and funnel out through the door.

Black Angus is the real deal, 3D reflects. His shoot sheet is punctured only in the ten ring. A prince of precision. This is probably because Black Angus was a hoodrat before he got drafted into and through the NBA and into fistfuls of wet cunt and hard cash.

The reason 3D knows this is because it was told to Domino, but Domino wasn't really paying attention. Black Angus also has a PhD.

'Tennis, everyone?' D3 asks.

'FOCK YEAH!' says Black Angus. Guy and Hand nod vigorously. Black Angus flashes his Addidas sponsorship smile.

They all hi-five and bump chests and run to their cars, 3D still trying to grasp the situation his twin just generated.

Fast forwardPOCK POCK POCK POCK. D3 (With 3D's help) and Black Angus brutalize Hand and Guy across 4 matches. Their technique involves walloping the yellow fuzz hornet at H&G's faces. 'Quick and painless!' they shout, out of synch.

3D's the better player, shimmying D3 by his nervous system like a marionette.

After, they sit on the beach staring out over the trinitite ocean. D3 is treating his horror irradiated brain with Heineken radiation, while 3D transforms into a Geiger–Müller counter, scanning the Pennis Situation for, well—