The Pzi-Apex - R.K. Galvez (lightest ebook reader .TXT) 📗

 Conjuration[inbox/spam]:

[Discovered in Nag Hamadi, 1896...It all got forgotten but I found some more soiled documents under my sofa...]....

...I discovered, while watching Newton, that he was not of sound mind. It seems a demon has [E]possessed him and was trying to complete the so-called soul sacrifice. A crude corruption of numerous rites, and very much confused by mis-readings of various acts of tribalism.
...It remains easy to blame the Mayans but we know the Nommos were just as crazy; but we know nothing, even though evidence supports we [now] know everything...Wait, something might be changing; he seems to be moving...I need to warn Elaine, but you know what she can be like. He intends to feed upon Hal's remains and copulate with his decomposing corpse out of sheer boredom...Unless he senses a fresh kill...[...Nothing much on TV anyway; The Phultor likes a spot of cruising and dogging around every now and then...]...I have already planted cameras to film this for my own personal use; I even attached all the footage for you to view at your own leisure. [Warning! This attachment has corrupted:]

HERE IS A PICTURE: [This Picture has been censored by nobody...The bloody thing will not send...]...

[SEE BELOW AND FIG.4]…Sent......Sending......Received....Not Sent...It was a picture of a wrinkly cock and a sore cunt; there that saved some time...

ELAINE PETTIFER: I cleared my mind... I always take my time to get ready for the evening ahead....I decided to spend time brushing my hair, trimming my pubic hair, and applying lots of mascara - so I feel good. I think I would be a good housewife. Sometimes I miss 1956. Maybe I'm having a pre-mid-life crisis….The quarterly quarter-life crisis…I have a thing for pointless modern art and dull theatre these days...I am becoming very middle-class and I love all token diversity...But, as I look over this mess of a file, I have examined all the rites, pzionik methodology and the transmorphographic lesions….It appears to look inconclusive and I'm ready to give up, so what if we need to let ourselvs go...I am unaware of any dimensional breach, but I am fearful for some reason.[STATUS: WAKE UP GODDAMN YOU!WAKE UP YOU---------------------------*...We get orbital...]...

...I call Hal, but there's no answer. I really get creeped out by that little wanker. I think he might fancy me, but I'm ten years older than him, at least. He's still a kid. I'm not really looking for a partner like him. To be honest, I really like celibacy. Just me and my [censored]. But I can't say that to all men. Especially if they're rich. Though I would go for a rich lady too; I would say that I am flexible and I am not bothered; life can only be for living [I got that free tip off a Prudential Insurance advertisement; it must be better than from a fortune cookie?...]...And I there are always enough poor kids to adopt to save me the stress of child birth…But I know I've - shit, I'm going to burn my apple crumble....I'll finish this later...

                                   MY GHOSTLY LIFE BY ELAINE PETTIFER

                               Chapter One: Message Not Sent...

                               [Text censored]

Eighty One

That was when the case cooked up. I had to be smooth. My brain was already deep fried. The Gibson-AFX Affect was kicking in; my very own Mona Lisa Piledriver…And the piles were just the start… I am Johnny Quagga, the Ghost Detective. I have a dual role to play in two different realities. That remains a fact. You know, I do not mind being a ghostly gumshoe. Better than some ghostly fly in some kiddie cartoon…I could never be that cool, though…Once you are in a Kids' Film or programme you are instantly "cool"…In some ways this ghostly gum-shoeing can be quite confusing to the average amateur sleuth…In one world I am a ghost exterminator; in another I am an actual spectre sent to penetrate souls…I bi-suck curiously, of course…Succubae not included…I cannot remember what class, though.

….How confusing can any world get? Everything baffled me. I think I would be better off living on an Asteroid. I know some brilliant Asteroid camps; they are very cheap these days – cheaper than a shed in London. They easily have enough room for four or five people and they come with a built in septic tank. Good value for 300[yes, three-hundred] thousand wotsits, cheaper than a house on Earth and no need to wait for planning permission. You get a whole asteroid to yourself or share with family and friends then you can all hurtle through space and time. What a gas!

That has to be my dream…

…I get a new mission through the pzi-reader...I have to haunt some poor psychic called Les Barloy - sounds like a bit of a foppish dandy. I have nothing against those kinds of people, pansy poofy people. They make me feel all funny. Les could be good looking with his slap on. I speak to his agent, some albino vampire barber-surgeon called Von RapArd. He had been ferociously masturbating after taking too much cocaine to take the edge of some potent mescaline while watching Infowars…

…During the odd moment of clarity, Von RapArd had admitted he had a secret thing for the best bonkers theorist ever, which has to be Alex Jones although Jesse Ventura really floats my boat, too…My information might be mistaken, but Alex Jones could even turn into a woman, called Alex Jones; we saw this shifting being rock climb, do charity events, and be on some pointless magazine show funded by hard-pressed TV licence-payers…The BBC did not realize how masterly this conspiracy genius truly was; he had globalized smarts, and he had penetrated the middle-class fortress of the establishment, which the BBC represents...He/she[delete as preferred] could do so much in such a small amount of time…Genuine genius…

“What do you want to know, Quagga?” Von RapArd hissed.

Quagga smirked. He noticed the albino vampire had small acorn-like genitals. His delicate classical penis was beautifully formed, as if carved from marble…

“You should get ready, we need to slip back in time for a bit of the old Rewind Time, Vonny!”

Von RapArd sneered at Quagga, licking his dainty lips with his forked tongue.

“Quagga, you cosmic fool!”

Quagga sighed. The conversation was going nowhere; it was another cosmically sloppy piece of time-wasting.

He forgot Von RapArd played hard to get about his best clients.

Quagga asked, “I take it Les still lives in Kilburn?”

Von RapArd laughed, his plaque-covered fangs almost fell out. He was in an utter state of hysterical laughter. Quagga thought it a good time to slip away at this point in time…

QUAGGA’S [b/v/pzi]-LOG:

I had to find my mental guru, Tnuk Nam. He was a slight upgrade on the usual mind [the]rapists...He was not a nice man: a green-skinned fish-man complete with the skeletal face of Death. His light green flesh had stretched due to numerous failed astral experiments; it almost looked like tanned leather. Maybe he was an alien, but he was the only guru I had these days. Everybody needs a guru, even if you can only find a mentally metal guru…Batteries were never included...

...He was the only one for me, despite his foul ways. He even had made his own prescription paper – the finest blotter you could find…He was not to be messed with….I know this because he first summoned me during the winter of 1985. His eyes still look young, although he looks like death. His energy had to be of a man half his age.

...Tnuk Nam was married to a witch called Shi T. She was accidentally soul-trapped by the [occasionally] psychic seer, Les Barloy, and remained time-locked in cryo-pzionik stasis. What does this have to do with anything? I do not know, do I? It all seems relative. There will be a clue...It worked for those meddling kids...But as I feebly attempted to lock into the world of "new realms", I casually noticed that I had to play ‘The System Game’ now and then…

THE SYSTEM GAME [From ‘The Beginner’s Guide’]:

1] GET A POORLY PAID JOB DOING ANYTHING YOU CAN SCHMOOZE / ACQUIRE. THE LESS YOU ENJOY IT THE BETTER. WORK EVERY HOUR YOU CAN; YOU WILL NOT ACTUALLY BE FINANCIALLY BETTER OFF (THAT REMAINS A SOCIO-PSYCHOLOGICAL ILLUSION AND A MATTER FOR FALSIFIED STATISTICS); BUT REMEMBER: YOUR PITIFUL EXISTENCE REMAINS FOR THE GOOD OF THE WOEFUL NATIONAL PRODUCTIVITY FIGURES...ALSO REMEMBER: THE SYSTEM WANTS YOU TO THINK YOU ARE YOUR OCCUPATION…YOU ARE PART OF A NATIONAL WAGE-SLAVE MACHINE; YOU WILL CEASE TO BE AN INDIVIDUAL UNTIL CAREER POLITICIANS WANT YOU TO VOTE IN “THE DEMOCRACY CHARADE”...

2] GET A MATERIALISTIC YUPPIE GIRLFRIEND OR BOYFRIEND; PARTICULARLY A SHALLOW PERSON WHO WANTS TO MARRY YOU TO BOOST THEIR CREDIT RATING OR CONJOIN “WEALTHY FAMILY STATUS” (If you want to marry me, you can buy everything – Oh, what joy!...We're bankable commodities!...) REMEMBER: WE ALL HAVE TO ASPIRE. CHILDREN ARE NOT A VIABLE FINANCIAL MOVE IF YOU ARE “CAREER” ORIENTATED OR HAVE TO WORK TO SURVIVE…GET A DOG OR A CAT TO FILL ANY TEMPORARY EMOTIONAL VOID THEN FOB THEM OFF TO A RELATIVE WHEN YOU ARE BORED OF THEM OR HAVE TO WORK LONGER HOURS[...Same rules applies to infants who are not born as adults...] …

3] PAY THROUGH THE NOSE FOR A TRENDY ONE-BEDROOM PRIVATELY RENTED APARTMENT. MOVE BACK IN WITH PARENTS THEN BACK OUT TO RENT ANOTHER TRENDY SUB-STANDARD DIVE. CONSTANTLY ARGUE OVER SAVING FOR A MORTGAGE. IT MEANS YOU CARE ABOUT PROPERTY AS A PROXY PENSION. BE REALISTIC: IT WILL BE RARE (OR EXTREMELY “LUCKY”) TO FIND THAT YOU WILL HAVE AN EXTENSIVE PROPERTY PORTFOLIO BY THE TIME YOU ARE THIRTY-FIVE…

4] WHILE SAVING FOR A MORTGAGE DO NOT LIVE OR REPRODUCE…HAVE DESIGNATED NIGHTS FOR WELL-PLANNED SEXUAL INTERCOURSE…[…TWO JOHNNIES AND A PILL PLEASE!...DON'T FORGET THE MORNING AFTER!...] OR MUTUALLY MASTURBATE…[...CONTRACEPTION NOT NECESSARY…THINK OF HOW MUCH YOU WILL SAVE! THAT COULD BE RENT MONEY OR A MORTGAGE DEPOSIT…]…DO NOT HAVE ANY VICES EITHER; YOU MUST ASPIRE TO BE THE RATIONAL MISER…DO NOT GO OUT UNLESS IT IS TO WORK OR TO GET BASIC FOOD STUFFS/SUNDRIES (WHICH CAN BE DELIVERED TO YOU AT YOUR OWN CONVENIENCE). YOU CAN “LIVE” – AS IN “DOING THINGS” LIKE HAVING “FUN”, SEEING “FRIENDS”, GOING TO SEE BANDS, VOMITING EVERYWHERE AT FESTIVALS AND CLUBS, ETC - WHEN YOU ARE SIXTY-SEVEN; IF YOU MAKE IT TO THAT AGE, OF COURSE…LIFE MIGHT START AT SEVENTY IF YOU ARE HEALTHY ENOUGH TO MAKE IT...LIKE WITH MANY PURCHASES, LIFE HOLDS FEW GUARANTEES BUT MANY PRE-DESTINED CERTAINTIES TO INCREASE YOUR EXISTENTIAL SUFFERING…

5] IF YOU DO NOT KILL YOURSELF, PLEASE DIE QUICKLY FOR SOCIETY’S CONVENIENCE (AND MAKE IT CHEAP AS FUNERAL COSTS CAN BE PROHIBITIVE…WATCH OUT FOR INHERITANCE TAX IF APPLICABLE…)…JUST BE SURE TO PASS ON YOUR INFERNAL CAPITALIST MISERY ALONG TO YOUR MENTALLY