Chapter 12

“Man, do you remember that time that Mr. Crazy blew Jerry Seinfeld in half?” asked Spiderman, 80 years in the future.
“Yeah…that was reallllly fucked up!” recalled Wolverine, who then took a nice, long draw off of his space-hookah. “I was a total wreck for days, even weeks.”
“Oh well, at least he died doing what he loved…laying on the ground. Yo, homepage, zap me that pharmahoze; I need to get tore up offa some of that bomb-ass ultrachron space-weed, my nigga,” winked Spiderman, casually using racially-charged language that had become acceptable for anybody's use since the point when everybody had fucked each other into a big, brown mess.
“Hell yeah, dude, this shit is the shitty shit shit…smoke up, you disgusting, uneducated nubian! Stop making rap music!” Wolverine passed the metallic blue hose he was holding over to Spiderman, whose futuristic mask had a fancy smoke intake system to let him smoke space-weed with unprecedented efficiency. He plugged the hose into a nozzle on the top of his head, and then, with a pleasing hiss, a series of fancy tubes and shit transported the smoke directly into his lungs. The smoke sat in his lungs for a few seconds, after which it was automatically pumped out and released though of a vent on back of his neck.
“Oh, dude, I am fucked up!” exclaimed Spiderman, waving his hands out in front of his face with infant-like fascination. “I can even, if you'd believe it, taste the drums!”
“Spiderman…” said Wolverine, “…there isn’t even any music playing!”
“Dude…this is some good shit!” replied Spiderman. Both aged superheroes had a good laugh at that one.
“Yo, homeschool,” blubbered Wolverine, “Get outta my moon-computer chair, I need to check my f-mail.” Spiderman lovingly complied with his friend’s request, shifting seats to Wolverine’s plutonium beanbag seating unit. Wolverine, in turn, went and sat down in the moon-computer chair, which came as part of a set with his moon-computer desk, and spun it around to face his moon-computer. The chair automatically changed shape and color to suit Wolverine’s ergonomics and mood, a feature pioneered by famous chair designer Randy Johnson III.
Wolverine used his mind to move it's on-screen cursor - mentally - and click on the AOL 12.0 icon. A soothing female voice issued forth from the computer, saying “Please enter your password, Wolverine.” To which Wolverine replied by thinking, in his head, without saying anything out loud, “e-e-2-c-i-n-d-y-1.” A burst of colorful 3-D objects popped out of the moon-computer screen and surrounded Wolverine’s head as AOL 12.0 sprang to life. He was presented with a multitude of helpful features, from vacation-planning to stock market alerts. Wolverine once again didn't even speak but just thought, “f-mail,” which caused all of the 3-D objects to retreat back into the screen, and a large, blue mailbox to jump out in their place, making Wolverine instinctively pull away slightly. The mailbox opened up, and a row of (by then exceedingly ironic) envelope-shaped icons slid out. On each envelope was an abstract shape that represented the content of the message contained within. Wolverine once again used his mind to control the moon-computer, quickly scrolling through the icons and erasing several unsolicited commercial offers.
“Ooh,” he exclaimed, stopping the scroll, “We got an f-mail from Zephyr...let’s see what it says!” A 3-D envelope icon opened up, and a life-sized hologram of a man with a full beard in a hot pink business suit emerged from the screen and expanded out to stand on the floor next to Wolverine.
“H-hey!” said the hologram of their friend, sputtering glitchily, “What’s u-u-up? Just wan-wan-wanted to see if you’re down to p-play some face-face-faceball? Got-got-gotta go!” With that, the hologram flickered out and Wolverine’s computer turned off because it sensed that was what he wanted it to do.
“Hey Spidey, send Zephyr a nova-text-message 2.0 telling him to meet us at the faceball room in 20 space-minutes.”
“Okay, but it’s probably gonna take me a few nanoseconds…after all, I’m high.” Spiderman sent out the nova-text-message 2.0 using the cell phone implanted into his arm, and he and Wolverine began to get ready for their rendezvous with Zephyr by putting on their faceball suits. A faceball suit consists of a skintight biotextile outfit used to monitor the player’s vital signs, a pair of futuristic-looking gold-tinted goggles, and protective headgear which is comparable in appearance to a bicycle helmet (though somewhat bulkier.)
After the men were fully suited up, they hopped on their Segway scooters and rolled out into the hallways of the Mars-orbiting space station which they called home. They speedily zoomed along to the faceball room, occasionally waving at a passing human or alien that they knew. When Spiderman and Wolverine arrived at their destination a few space-minutes minutes later, Zephyr was nowhere in sight, so they decided to kill some space-time.
“Let’s meditate!” suggested Spiderman.
“Psh, whatever! I mean, I like meditation as much as the next guy, but holy shit, am I ever space-hungry!” said Wolverine, “We should head on over to the food pods and get something to eat.”
“Sounds like a space-plan!” Wolverine and Spiderman hopped onto their Segway scooters and scooted on over to the nearby food pods.
“Mmm, I can’t wait to eat!” said Wolverine as he and Spiderman approached the purple, pod-shaped objects which people in the future use to take nourishment.
“Howlett, James” said Wolverine to his food pod, using his given name to access his space-bank account.
“Identification accepted,” said the pod in a soothing female voice. Its large, see-through front panel opened up with a hydraulic hiss. “Please step inside.” Wolverine followed the pod’s instructions to the letter, walking into the pod and laying back onto the padded slope within. The food pod began to reach into his mind and determine what kind of food he wanted to eat at that very moment. It determined that Wolverine wanted to eat turkey with mashed potatoes and gravy, and Wolverine was then instantly transported to a virtual dining table, where his meal was waiting for him, hot, fresh, and perfectly cooked.
“Spiderman,” said Spiderman to his food pod.
“Identification accepted,” replied the pod in a soothing female voice. Just as with Wolverine’s pod, the door swung open and Spiderman stepped inside. The machine scanned his mind for a few seconds, and determined that he wanted to eat shrimp pasta with a glass of cranberry juice. Spiderman was then transported to the same virtual dining table as Wolverine, where there X-Man was just putting his napkin on his lap. Spiderman looked down and saw his meal.
“Ooh, this looks delicious,” he said, taking a big virtual whiff of the complex aroma which floated up from the dish.
“Yeah, and this turkey is just begging to be gobbled up!" quipped Wolverine.
“Well,” said Spiderman, “What are we waiting for? Religion has been abolished in the future, so we don't need to say grace or anything.” The superheroes began to dig into their virtual food, using their virtual utensils to chomp away at the digitized meals.
“Waw, this is gurt!” exclaimed Spiderman, his mouth still full of food.
“Mmm, I know!” responded Wolverine, who had the decency to swallow his bites before talking. For the next few minutes, our heroes continued to heroically eat their food, savoring every virtual mouthful until they had cleaned off their plates.
“Oh man, I am space-stuffed!” groaned Wolverine.
“Yeah, me too! Hey, let’s head back to the faceball room and meet up with Zephyr,” said Spiderman. “Computer: end program.” With those words, the virtual table faded away and both men awoke in their respective food pods. Spiderman and Wolverine hopped out of the pods and stumbled over to their Segway scooters. With the press of a button that recognized the men's DNA, even through their gloves, each of the scooters hummed to life, allowing Spiderman and Wolverine to zip on back to the faceball room without having to fiddle around with bulky metal keys.
They arrived just in time to see Zephyr rolling up on his hot pink Segway.
“Greetings and peace, friends!” he hailed, waving his arm through the air.
“Greetings and peace, brother Zephyr!” replied Wolverine and Spiderman in unison. “Jinx! Onetwothreefourfivesixseveneightninetengimmeaspaceblowjob!”
“Oh, you guys!” chuckled Zephyr, his large, bristly beard bouncing around as he did so. “Anyway, sorry I’m late…I was having space-sex!”
“Ooh, who’s the lucky lady?” inquired Wolverine.
“You know that blue chick from Venus? One eye, two vaginas?” replied Zephyr. “Yeah, that’s her.”
“Dude, she’s fucking hot!” proclaimed Spiderman enthusiastically.
“Mmmhmmm,” agreed Zephyr. “Fucked her good. In the big one. Well, anyway, are we just gonna stand around talking all day, or are gonna get in there and rub some faceball?”
“Let’s do it to it!” shrieked Spiderman, as they all headed toward the entrance to faceball room.
Now, at this point, it would be prudent to explain the ways of faceball, the future’s most popular and only sport. Basically, faceball is a lot like basketball, in that there is a hoop. On the other hand, faceball is also totally unique. You see, while basketball is played in two dimensions, faceball utilizes all three! Faceball is played in a cubical room measuring 69 meters on each side (hence the name “faceball”) Players ride on hoverboards, zooming around in zero-gravity while trying to throw a football-shaped object, the eponymous faceball, through a circular hoop about 30cm in diameter known as a lip ring. During play, the lip ring bounces freely around the faceball room, and for each time a player can get the faceball through this hoop they get a point (two points if it’s from really far away.) A player is penalized if they touch the walls or if they hit another player in the crotch with the faceball. Unlike most sports, faceball is not played with a time limit, but rather it’s a contest to see which player can reach 10 points first. Got all that?
“Door: open.” Spiderman’s wish was the door’s command; it opened up with that sound that the doors on Star Trek: TNG make. The three men stepped inside the faceball room, a large black cube with silver gridding broken only by the futuristic door and a scoreboard built into the wall. Three hoverboards materialized out of nowhere, floating defiantly in mid-air.
“Allright, are we just gonna stand around all day not playing faceball, or are we gonna play some faceball?” roared Zephyr, his bloodstream pumped full of space-meth. “Let’s turn off the ar-grav and rock this joint!” Each guy hopped onto a hoverboard, and a goofy noise indicated that the game was about to start. The men felt the room shift into zero-gravity, and a faceball appeared in the exact center.
“Heeeere weeeee gooooo!” moaned Wolverine in a spooky ghost voice. Just then, the game buzzer sounded and play had begun. Wolverine, Spiderman, and Zephyr all jumped into action, zooming towards the faceball in a mad rush to gain the early upper hand. They shoved and jostled each other, each trying trying to throw his opponents off track. Using the magic of his beard, Zephyr was able to give an extra big reach and snag the ball from its starting position. As Zephyr tucked the ball under his arm, Spiderman broke away to take a defensive position in the northeast corner of the faceball room. Wolverine continued to zoom along right behind the Z-man, looking to knock the ball out of his grip. But his plan was doomed to fail as Zephyr pulled his famous G-Flip maneuver, whipping around quickly with a 180-degree twist and heading in the opposite direction.
“Shit!” barked Wolverine. Another goofy noise echoed through the room, indicating that the facehoop was about to appear at some random location in the faceball room. A second buzzer a few moments later meant that the hoop had materialized somewhere in the futuristic arena of athletic competition. Zephyr scanned around the room, squinting, trying to catch sight of the circle in which he needed to deposit the faceball. Just then, he spied a tiny glint light out of the corner his eye, and as he turned toward it, he was shocked to see the lip ring sitting in the northeast corner of the faceball room, right next to Spiderman’s head. He paused, momentarily stunned.
“How does Spiderman not see it?” he thought to himself. “This is quite the tricky situation, indeed!” Zephyr’s thoughts faded into the back of his mind as he let the spirit of his dead grandmother guide him, lobbing the faceball directly at the lip ring. Spiderman was so shocked to see the faceball spiraling toward him that he didn’t even to think reach out and grab it. The faceball flew right through the center of hoop next to Spiderman's head, and the scoreboard lit up with two points under Zephyr’s picture.
Bing! Bing! “Two points for Zephyr,” said a soothing female voice.
“What?” gasped Spiderman. As he threw his arms into the air in surprise, he knocked the facehoop from it’s stationary position and sent it bouncing around the faceball room. “Oh shit!” he exclaimed, slapping his forehead to indicate some variation of surprise.
“Damn, down by two points already,” snarled Wolverine as he cruised towards the drifting faceball. He easily reached the ball before either Zephyr or Spiderman, the latter of whom was still sitting in the corner, his hand still on his forehead, too embarrassed to move. As Wolverine grabbed the faceball and spun around to face the lip ring, he was blindsided by Zephyr, who slammed into the fast-healing superhero at full speed and nearly knocked the ball loose.
“Oops, I had better be more careful! Ha!” he shouted at Wolverine as the X-Man struggled to regain control of his hoverboard. By this time Spiderman was back in the game; he had moved out of his corner and was heading towards the middle of the action. Wolverine was able to stabilize his flight, and turned around to meet the amazing Spiderman. Wolverine, being a brazen sonfabitch, charged right at his best friend in a futuristic game of chicken. They zoomed closer and closer, neither showing any sign of turning away. At the last moment, they both swooped away to opposite sides, Spiderman making a desperate grab at the faceball in Wolverine's arms. Wolverine was hoping to find a clear path to the lip ring, but Zephyr was already moving to block any chance he had at an easy point. Zephyr floated along, hovering between Wolverine and the hoop, forcing Wolverine to go in for an up-close attempt.
As Wolverine approached, Zephyr’s face became twisted with determination; he wasn’t about to give up his two-point lead any time soon. Okay, well, technically, he was. Wolverine drew closer and closer while Zephyr continued to move and block the lip ring. As Wolverine came within 10 meters of the hoop and still showed no sign of slowing down, Zephyr splayed himself out so as to block as much of the hoop as he could. Wolverine bore down on Zephyr and the lip ring with the determination of a Zulu warrior, his furrowed brow an indication of his stern resolve to score. Just as it seemed Wolverine would simply plow into Zephyr and his beard, he pulled to the side and threw the faceball behind his back, straight toward the lip ring. Zephyr reached, trying to stop the ball from passing through the hoop, but alas, it simply brushed by his fingers, tipping slightly as it rolled right through the circle and putting Wolverine on the scoreboard.
Bing! “One point for Wolverine,” said a soothing female voice, which was actually different that the voice from before.
“Shit! You smart, black nigger!” exclaimed Zephyr, whose moment of frustration caused him to forget that once a faceball game starts, it doesn’t take a break. Spiderman had swooped behind the lip ring, and used, get this, his head to smack the ball and send it spinning back towards the hoop! Zephyr turned around to see this showy move, and wailed “Noooo!” as the ball came within inches of scoring a point for Spiderman.
Zephyr’s lizard brain instantly kicked into action, turning his body into one, big nerve ending or something. Before he knew what he was doing, he had reached through the hoop, and grabbed the faceball with one hand. Spiderman’s white eye patch thingies, which due to advents in mask technology had become even more expressive than ever, widened in surprise and seemed to say “Oh, no!”
Spiderman and Wolverine watched in horror as a smile of smugness came to Zephyr’s face and he casually pulled his arm back through the lip ring.
Bing! “One point for Zeph-” the soothing female voice was cut short as Zephyr extended his arm back through the hoop again. Bing! “One p-” Bing! “One point for Z-” Bing! “One -” Bing! Zephyr continued to pump the ball back and forth through the lip ring, scoring point after point after point. Bing! “One poi-” Bing! It was kind of like that scene in the original Austin Powers when the soothing female voice is trying to say “evacuation complete” but he keeps peeing.
Bing! “Zephyr…wins,” said the voice, indicating that Zephyr had tallied up 10 points. Spiderman and Wolverine stood awestruck. Well, okay, technically they hovered awestruck.
“Gee, fellas, looks like I won! LOL!” laughed Zephyr out loud. The faceballers started to descend toward the ground as normal gravity gradually returned to the room.
“Yeah…” responded Spiderman, “…uh, good game.”
“Well-played?” added Wolverine.
“I certainly am. I mean, wow, that was an amazingly short match,” sassed Zephyr, hopping of off his hoverboard. “I really infected the lip ring's hole with a bunch of quick points.”
“Yeah…yeah,” muttered Spiderman. “Well, Zephyr, we, uh, we have to plan a vacation, so we’re gonna head back to Wolverine’s space-apartment and, uh…fire up AOL.”
“Oh, don’t get all pouty on me now! C’mon, guys…it's like they say: all’s fair in love and faceball…except for hitting somebody in the crotch or touching the walls.”
“No, no...that was, uh, neat…that thing you did…we really do have to go plan this vacation, though.”
“Oh, alright, fine! You guys can go back to your apartment and cry and play with dolls and shit your pants, but I’ll be at the space-bar getting space-drunk. Later, dudes!” With that, Zephyr waved goodbye like an asshole and strode out through the doors of the faceball room.
Wolverine and Spiderman both just stood there, shaking their heads in awe and disbelief for several minutes straight. Finally, mustering every ounce of courage that it took, the S-man turned toward his friend and spoke up, saying,
“Yeah, I’m never talking to that faggot again.”