HfX7qe2179A9, the bug-eyed alien grey who's discovered the value of individuality, now fights to escape its Mother & all twelve billion of its siblings. Having slipped the clutches of the Hive-Mind, alone and offline for the very first time, the only thing left for it to do will surely bring about its swift destruction...Meanwhile, Jeremy is busily working out the best way possible to kill the little alien, though neither of them will know it until it's far too late.But before either of them will succeed in accomplishing the murder, they will first have to face the crushing might of the secret government's last-chance warrior, Agent MON2985, a cybernetically-enhanced enforcer now obsolete and on his way out of the System.And in spite of the burgeoning chaos, no one but the mind-controlled clones will see any of it happening.Boris D. Schleinkofer is a slave, just like you and everybody else. He lives near the monolith of Baal. His number is 5x2-00x1-11. He is a good citizen.
About the Author: I've purposefully spread quite a bit of disinformation about myself over the years; here's some of that material: He is a fictional character in the Horror-Play "The Greatest Practical Joke Ever," by Shaytan Komp'ü'tor. He has never made love to a beautiful woman, never wallowed in fresh kill, never found a briefcase full of hundred-dollar bills. In fact, he doesn't even exist at all. So there. This subject, when at last pressed to interview, was reluctant to give answer & not at all forthcoming. The species is believed to be of no practical applicability whatsoever. Preliminary findings appeared at first to indicate some inherent entertainment-value, but this was later proven to be untrue by the application of more rigorous test-procedures. Further experimentation with this subject is not recommended. Boris D. Schleinkofer was born in San Francisco and lives in Bellingham, Washington. He has been writing in earnest since the late 80's. He was never abducted from a farmer's property by aliens, and does not have a device implanted in his nasal cavity, which enables his invisible Controllers to hear his thoughts and see through his eyes. He was never saved from a fate worse than death by an act of Divine Intervention. He does not telepathically influence the behaviors of others around him. He is similarly incapable of conversing with the spirits of the deceased, and holds no special covenant with the Earth itself, allowing him to control the weather. He is your friend. Most of the above are probably true. I've been writing for over twenty years, with one book of poetry released by a disreputable print-Publisher in 2001; I very recently discovered e-publishing and released my first two novels, a collection of poetry chapbooks and one screenplay of fourteen. I currently serve as President and Media Director for poetrynight ("The best open mic on the West Coast" - Jack McCarthy) and as Vice-President for the Whatcom Poetry Series 501(c)(3). I was on the Editorial Committee for the first poetrynight anthology of local poets, and the selection committee for the first Ken Warfel Fellowship Award. In addition to my pursuit of the cinematic arts, I paint & hold a brown belt in Okinawan Kempo Karate. My body of written work consists of six volumes of poetry, twelve feature-length screenplays, a treatment for a television series and a couple novels. I spread orgonite around town for a couple years. I do not screw around on Facebook.