Slambax Max


True to her custom, Atlanta was reading a comic book. From where he lay, Gorkindachina could see the full-color cover, which was unmistakably the work of Slambax Max of Chan Molest. It showed a young woman in a white dress. She was blonde, her hair adorned with red ribbons. Her hands were clutched to her ears, as if to deafen her own screams. Scores of animated turds with smouldering red eyes were scattered across the gauzy whiteness of her dress. More were dropping down from the ceiling.
Such was the force of Slambax Max's artwork that Gorkindachina could not keep himself from glancing at the ceiling, as if a matching menace might descend from those heights. But, as in the House of X, there was nothing overhead but some cobwebs.
Atlanta drew on her cigarette in a leisurely fashion, breathed out smoke, then took her feet off the desk and carefully stubbed out the cigarette. As she did so, a wastepaper basket came flying through the open door, base first, filling the air with a flurry of papers. It crashed against the opposite wall, and fell to the floor. As the wastepaper basket rolled to its rest, Gorkindachina realized that Julius Om had entered the room. [NoP Ch17]

Category: oolpeople
Tags: nop ool

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