The dust settles leaving the unlucky raptor
frozen in place like a Popsicle, a
“Raptorsicle”. The first winds of the Ice
Age begin to blow, exploding the raptor into a million zillion pieces. The Age
of Dinosaurs is now over. It’s now mankind’s time… or so we thought.
* * *
The song “Wanted Man” by RATT is playing on the
radio. A muscular man arm exhibits an impressive karate chop to an enormous
block of ice. Block after block of ice-cold ice are put in their place by the
chiseled and disciplined body of none other than Archer Ass-Kick, professional
wrestler, and winner of the Nobel Prize in the field of Energy drinks. Archer
bows to the final block of ice before destroying it
with a single blow. If the
block of ice could talk it would have said something like, “Don’t smash me
bro!” and then nothing ever again.
A muscular Samoan arm covered in badass tribal
tattoos turns down the volume on the radio.
“You always were cool as ice, Archer!”
Exclaimed the arm’s muscular Samoan owner.
The tatted Samoan tricep belongs to none
other then Archer’s tag-team partner and noted geologist (color him anything,
color him) “Bad” Rock-Hard. Rock-Hard throws Archer a lab coat, which Archer
catches and attempts to put it on. The wimpy white coat barely fits over his
enormous and well toned biceps.
“Remind me to cut the sleeves off this thing,” Archer mutters. “Oh well,
I guess it’s back to work. Those undiscovered planets aren’t going to discover
themselves.”
Archer tightens his black
belt over his lab coat and struts over to a big-ass telescope. He presses his
sunglasses up against the lens and lets out the manliest of gasps.
“Yo Rock! Get President Erik
Roberts on the horn!” Archer yells.
“What is Bro?” Rock-Hard
demands.
Archer smoothly backs away
from the telescope and coldy answers, “It’s what we’ve been getting ready for
since we were dick high…”
* * *
Soon Archer and Rock-Hard are on the steps of
the White House. The theme to “Law and Order” plays as they strut right into
the Oval Office. President Eric Roberts stands to greet our yoked out heroes.
Standing next to him is Colonel Dugan, a big fat piece of shit who gives Archer
and Rock-Hard an icy stare through his punk-ass monocle.
“Dr. Archer, Dr. Rock-Hard. I assume you’re
not here to watch wrestling and knock back a couple of Rolling Rocks with the
old man,” jokes President Roberts.
“Any other time would have
been totally awesome Mr. President. But we need you to take a look at this
shit,” Archer proclaims, as he slams a bunch of space pictures onto the President’s
desk. Just then the President’s daughter, Selena Roberts, walks into the Oval
Office wearing nothing but a sopping wet bikini. Beads of steamy water roll
down her supple breasts, past her semi-erect nipples and down her well-toned
girl stomach. As she takes a moment to shake the excess water from her long
glistening black hair, her breasts jiggle and bounce around all over the place.
With his eagle eyes Archer is able to get a solid glimpse of some awesome side
boob.
“Sorry Daddy, I just got done using the presidential
pool. Did I interrupt anything?” asks Selena.
“Oh Selena, this is Archer
Ass-Kick and ‘Bad’ Rock-Hard. The two scientists I was telling you about.” The
President stutters, attempting to act completely oblivious to how totally
smoking hot his daughter is.
“Whoa Mr. President, you
didn’t call in some scientists, I think you called in the Boner Police!” Rock-Hard playfully interrupts, prompting
Archer to give a subtle smirk that’s all like, “Can you believe this crazy guy?”
The
President nervously adjusts his eagle-covered necktie and stammers, “Um honey,
why don’t you go dry yourself off in the presidential towel room?”
Selena arches her back ever so slightly, her
boobs all up in Archer and Rock-Hard’s collective grills.
“Oh I think I’ll just stay here a little
bit and take in the view,” Selena says ever so coyly. “Likewise,” Archer smirks
as he and Rock-Hard quickly high-five each other before anyone can notice.
“Suit yourself baby,” The
President says curtly, attempting to nip the Oval Office eroticism in the bud.
“Now Archer, what’s so
important about these photos you’ve brought in?”
“All I see is a bunch of
dumbass stars,” Dugan barks as the greasy remains of Slim Jims past spray out
of his fat, stupid mouth.
“Why don’t you take a closer
look Jabroni,” Archer coolly responds as he holds back the urge to give the
Colonel a justified pink belly.
Colonel Dugan, President
Erick Roberts and his daughter huddle around and squint really, really hard at
the photographs and then let out a unanimous gasp of not believing. The
President resists from barfing all over the photographs.
“Is that what I think it is Archer?” the
president asks.
“That’s right. It’s a flying
saucer, more commonly known as a U-F-O.”
“But where did it come from?”
Selena stupidly asks.
“Rock-Hard, explain this
shit,” replies Archer, haughtily.
Rock-hard cracks his knuckles before laying down some serious science.
“Mr. President, we have reason to believe that the spaceship in question came
from none other than planet Earth. Not only that, but we’ve determined that the
ship is over six thousand years old.”
“But who on Earth could have built a
spaceship six thousand years ago?” asks President Roberts as he scratches his
presidential noodle.
“Isn’t it obvious Mr.
President? Dinosaurs,” replies Archer.
“Dinosaurs building
spaceships? That’s fucking stupid!” interrupts Dugan, like the fat man-baby
that he is.
Archer lets out a lion’s roar, “Listen Colonel,
we don’t go down to the street corner where you troll around in and tell you
how to do your shitty job. So don’t you dare try to tell us how to do
ours!”
This causes the Colonel to lose both his shit and his monocle. Selena
giggles and gets just a little bit turned on, which Archer totally notices.
Archer continues, “Say it, don’t spray it! If you Army Jabroni’s had paid any
attention to Dr. Rock-Hard’s geological findings you would have known that
dinosaurs didn’t just go extinct during the Ice Age. They completely
disappeared off the face of the Earth!”
Rock-Hard crosses his arms, flexes his
tatted-up biceps and continues his explanation, “You certainly don’t see
dinosaurs walking around today buying big screen TV’s.
All of modern science has led us to believe
that all of Earth’s dinosaurs left to find a warmer planet, maybe one closer to
the Sun. But it looks like they were just biding their time.”
President Erik
Roberts ponders America’s options.
“Hmmm… space dinosaurs. Now
that is some crazy shit. So what do we do Archer? Do we just go ahead and blow
the shit out of them with our missiles?”
“Not yet Mr. President, we still don’t know
what they what. They could be peaceful, plant eating dinosaurs that believe in
America’s values. Or they could be total fucking dicks.”
“You can never be too certain with
dinosaurs, they could either fuck us or suck us.”
“Believe me Mr. President, America isn’t going
to be fucking or sucking anybody. Not on our watch,” Archer reassures the weary
President.
Archer and Rock-Hard then lock arms in a throbbing, manly handshake
(a manshake), and Selena gets just a little bit more turned on. The President
lets out a sigh of relief.
“I’m just glad Lady Liberty has two solid
dudes like you guys watching her big, green ass.”
“Later cool guys,” Selena says as she gives Archer a wink.
Archer smirks and flexes his enormous pecks to
Selena. As Archer and Rock-Hard walk out of the Oval Office they both lick
their calloused pinkies and stick them in Dugan’s ears, giving him a more than
justified Wet-Willie. Dugan wiggles in pain and annoyance as the President and
his daughter laugh at his expense. Selena hated to see Archer go, but she loved
to watch him walk away.
* * *
Archer and Rock-Hard return to their
laboratory/dojo. As they step out of Rock-Hard’s bullet-hole sticker covered
black Humvee, the front door of the lab creaks open on its own in a spooky ass
manner. Archer’s keen, wolf-like senses suddenly kick in.
“Hold it Rock, something stinks... stinks
like dino shit.”
Rock-Hard immediately draws his nunchaku and
the two stone-cold dudes slowly enter the lab. Archer flips a light switch only
to find the lab in shambles. Beakers and other science stuff all thrown around
and broken to shit, and without warning an enormous velociraptor leaps from
behind a lab table and attempts to bite Rock-Hard’s dick off. But Rock-Hard
uses his quick-ass reflexes and catches the dinosaur by the jaws and with one
sweaty flex of his man muscles he tears the raptor’s jaw clean off. Green
dinosaur blood sprays all over place.
Another
velociraptor tries to get the drop on Archer, but he does one of those badass
ninja back-of-the-wrist-punches on it, dropping the raptor like a bag of cats.
Archer turns around and is just about to lay down a final devastating judo blow
when the scream of a motorcycle engine bellows through the lab. A raptor on a
dirt bike roars past Archer and Rock-Hard, crashes through a window and
hightails it across the highway.
“Get
him Archer! I’ll clean up here,” yells
Rock-Hard.
Archer crashes through the window that was next to the already
broken window, landing perfectly in the seat of his dog dick red Harley
Davidson. Archer throttles his sweet-ass hog and hauls ass towards the escaping
dino.
Taking up both lanes of the highway Archer is soon neck and neck with the
Motor-Dino. The Motor-Dino claws at Archer but he’s still able to land a few
well-placed face-punches on his reptilian foe. The Motor-Dino snarls and hawks a
big, venomous black loogie that splatters across Archer’s
chest.
“Fuckin’
Spitasuarus. That was my favorite Def Leopard shirt!”
Archer immediately rips his shirt off. His
nipples get hard. Not from the 100 MPH winds but from dinosaur blood lust as he
speeds after his prey. Just then Archer remembered that he left a few of his
samurai swords in his bike’s saddlebags. He pulls out a really
big, sharp one and smiles.
“Pour some sugar on this Motherfucker!”
Archer speeds up next to the
dinosaur and jams the priceless antique sword into the Motor-Dino’s front
spokes. The velociraptor eats shit as he flies over the handlebars, skidding
into a bloody, green mess on the highway. Archer pulls up to the smoldering
wreckage of dirt bike and dinosaur.
“Alright butthorn, I want
answers!”
The battered and bloodied
dinosaur sneers at Archer and with it’s last ounce of strength raises a
trembling raptor claw and proceeds to flip Archer off.
“BASTARD!!!” Archer roars.
In a fit of rage Archer stomps the dinosaur’s
head clean off. Green blood sprays everywhere just as Rock-Hard pulls up in his
black Humvee. (The one with the stickers that look like bullet holes). His radical Mohawk grazes the bottom of the
Hummer’s custom lambo door as he walks up raising a fist to give Archer a
congratulatory bump. But Archer is in no mood for fist-bumpage.
“Well it looks like the
President was right Archer. These dinosaurs are either gonna fuck us or suck
us.”
An ominous wind blows through Archer’s tasteful, yet still rebellious
rat-tail.
“Hey Rock-Hard… you feel
that... a storm is coming. A Dino-Storm…”
Lightning can be heard off in
the distance as Archer and Rock-Hard clench their fists and scowl to the sky
like two lone wolves in sunglasses....
And that's just Chapter One!
Get the whole Dino-rific action packed adventure on Amazon!
Male Power Fantasy Volume One. Dino-Storm
