Take a ride on the sexual wayback machine with Vicente and Dr. Peebody to help them discover the Periodic Table of Sexual Elements and learn the difference between gay and really gay.
Trigger Warning: Epics are not good reading for religious zealots, especially Christians, sexually uptight pricks, or stupid people.
*All books in the Epic Short Story Series contain adult content.
The Epic Short Stories are satirical, sometimes raunchy narratives poking fun at religion, entertainment, and society. Written originally as a concept for animation, the Epics soon developed into tiny fiction installments made available on KDP.
While driving through the light tunnel headed for Earth, I considered different names for my car. Nothing seemed good enough, causing much frustration as I shook my head and tried to refocus on what to ask Dr. Peebody when arriving at his secret lab. Carrie Fisher and Eazy-E discovered the lab’s location but couldn’t investigate because of another story requiring their attention, and the job of interviewing Dr. Peebody fell to me.
I exited the tunnel of light and raced across the arctic sky in ghost mode. Following the GPS soon brought a fast-approaching wall of ice, and just like Scoop and Eazy described, a cave entrance appeared on the wall accessible by flying car. Threading the cavern’s opening and winding through the curving glacier, I entered an open space with a single steel garage door built into the ice.
I parked the Camaro, turned off the ghost mode, and stepped into the frigid arctic air. Rapping loudly on the door echoed in the ice cave, and after a long pause, I rapped again, to which a muffled voice answered behind the door, “What do you want?”
“I am with the LA Times. I’m here because I want to interview Dr. Peebody. Are you willing to answer some questions?”
The door slowly rolled up, revealing a strange little man wearing a shiny metal disc on a headband that looked like a doctor’s head mirror and an iPad-looking device built into his shirt. He motioned for me to follow him into a short tunnel as the door lowered behind, and he spoke, “I guess it was bound to get out. My work never stays secret long. I suppose you want to know all about my latest discovery, the Periodic Table of Sexual Elements?”
“Yes, but I would like to start by learning more about you.”
At the tunnel’s end, he raised another garage door to a large, brightly lit room. Lowering the door as we entered, he said, “Well, as you know, I am Dr. Peebody, a sexual historical identification technician and anthropological structural scientist with cosmology and physics degrees.”
I nodded, making some notes on my iPhone. “Ah, so you are a SHIT & ASS.”
Dr. Peebody’s face wrinkled in confusion. “What? No, I am a sexual historical identification technician and anthropological structural scientist with degrees in cosmology and physics.”
“Okay.” I shook my head and continued taking notes as we entered a room of scientific contraptions arching electricity between them between walls sixty feet high by sixty feet wide with letters and numbers scrawled from top to bottom.
He shook his head and continued, “I recently discovered an unknown area of human sexuality known as the sexual elements.”
Motioning with my phone around the room at the walls. “Is that what all this is?”
Dr. Peebody turned, pointing to one of the walls. “Yes, these are the sexual elements I discovered. Each of these elements represents a new subatomic particle that causes specific sexuality and impacts gender.”
Staring at the massive wall, I asked, “Could you explain this so my readers will understand?”
Dr. Peebody folded his arms. “I traced human sexual history and discovered elements that cause sexual identity and sexual desire. Each element represents a different type of sexuality, such as red H, which stands for homosexual, whereas black H stands for heterosexual. When combined, these elements form the sexual identity H2H or two parts heterosexual and one part homosexual.”
“Wouldn’t that be bisexual?” I asked while taking pictures of the writing on the walls.
He shook his head in frustration. “No, no, no! Bisexual is black H, red H, but remember sexuality has degrees of strength. Have you heard the phrase, really gay?”
“There is some truth in that statement, but to disambiguate, we can say increasing in value from red H5 to red H10 represents an increase in homosexuality. The higher the number, the gayer you are.”
Looking up at the board inquisitively, I asked, “So what is this Y that has Yeti written underneath it?”
He returned, “Yeti sexuality occurs when a person has only sexual attraction to Yeti because of the Y element present in his or her body.”
I frowned. “That doesn’t even make sense. There’s no such thing as a Yeti.”
“Not now, but thousands of years ago, Yeti and man walked the earth together and sometimes had sex.” Dr. Peebody smiled confidently.
“Okay, so I think I’m getting it, so how would you explain a man who only wants to fuck a male Yeti?”
He laughed slightly, “That’s easy; it would be red HY.”
I asked slyly, “So what if we mixed the elements to form a random compound like O3E3. What would that be?”
“Oh, that is a three parts orgasm and three parts excretion, a sexual compound refined from the elements I discovered. That sexuality denotes a person who only desires sex if it involves orgasming while excreting.”
I jotted some notes on my phone. “So, you’re saying that compound is not a sexual identity?”
“Just in the laboratory. No natural form exists today; perhaps it evolved into gerbil racer and other sexual derivations.”
“So, how did you get these compounds if they don’t exist anymore, and why?”
“Come, I’ll show you.” Dr. Peebody led me to a machine in the room's corner outfitted with two chairs and a large fan-like wheel on the rear: suspiciously like the Time Machine by Orson Wells. Dildo-shaped levers protruded from the dashboard with a glowing hourglass resting in the middle. “This is the sexual wayback machine, allowing travel anywhere in the past to enter a person’s body while having sex, which is the only time the molecules can be identified.”
I pointed at the contraption. “Is that similar to the Trans-dimensional Interconnecting Transport System and Accretion Spatial Sequencer or TITS & ASS?”
Dr. Peebody exclaimed, “What the hell is that? Why would you call it that? That does not speak to its purpose! Sounds like you are making some ridiculous social commentary or something.”
“The scientist named it; I just use it.” I shrugged.
He shook his head in frustration. “No, this is a sexual time machine we use to travel back in time to experience sex so the machine can register elements by using your body as a lens.”
I took some pictures of the machine. “All right, this is making sense now. Is there a way for me to test this to verify it works?”
Dr. Peebody motioned for me to take a seat in the machine. “Of course.”