Which character from a CRPG would you like to make your wife?
I began stroking the delicate sides of my head with the gentle tips of my fingers, the pain was intense pulses shaped after the words that rang out as I read them, stretching my corpus callosum and almost bursting my gray cauliflower as I tried to grasp the meaning.
CRPG... Wife... RPGC... RPG Codex... Wife...
Putting away the two cheap paperbacks I had actually intended to read, collections of Mikhail Lermontov and Stéphane Mallarmé, to the side table, I leaned back in my recliner and started to give it due consideration. I had never pondered lesbianism before and a measureless menagerie of Codex princesses open for marriage impinged itself against my mental eye. Which among them would I pick? It didn't take more than a second for all of them to fade except one, Stella Brando. With Stella's supple and meaty Tuscan pillars for legs strong enough to carry me to my bridal bed, the sensual menace and perilous attraction of vintaged maturity, and the experience of innumerable steamy amorous encounters and liaisons, was there any other choice?
I was about to type in my response when the foundation of my recliner gave in and my modest apartment disappeared into darkness above me as I fell through the floor. There was something I had forgotten. Like an 9/11 office worker I was stretched out into the air as I plunged down head first without ever seeing the floor below mine. I was a flightless baby bird being hatched in mid-air, and as I pecked open my shell the repressed memory exploded back into my consciousness.
Stella Brando had once been Stalin Brando.
My stomach cramped and I began to violently puke out my by now partly digested dinner, the colorful vomit formed my comet's trail as I sped up and approached Earth. A transbian. Waiting on the ground with open arms I could see a woman pawn from Dragon's Dogma 2 waiting to catch me, but upon getting closer the illusion was broken, and I could see it was no pawn, it was Brando, and he was not holding up his arm. The catastrophic impact created a lake sized crater that was soon filled with the hail of stomach acid and broken eggshell, my charred remains floating next to Brando's shattered bones.
Then I woke up, a string of drool clung to my face and had almost reached my breast, the books were on the floor, the impact must have ended the dream. True story.
