Greg pressed some keys on the shuttle pod scanner as the timer neared zero.

  "Greg, you won't survive this…" Izzy warned.

  "Sure I will…I'm fuckin Greg." He smiled, sliding his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose as his eyes glowed blue behind them. He looked at the timer and took off running, getting the entire 3 steps before elbowing the hull and pulling the emergency airlock release, and the star in the viewscreen went silently supernova. The airlock opened as the exploding star's shockwave hit the shuttle, sending him just in front of the blast wave. He gripped the door release with one hand, pulling the door under his feet and the selfie stick out with the other hand, bearing his canines as the portable forcefield generator flattened out with the G-force. His biceps flexed under the force. The titanium selfie stick bent into a U as the speed increased.

  "Hang in there big guy!" Marley yelled.

  "Lurl bursy hurr." Greg muttered as his face rippled.

  "Oh man, 6 million views. That was sick." Marley smiled, high fiveing Greg in the den, Greg’s face still missing some of its opacity.

  "Hey, what can I say? I'm a hero. It's what heroes do. Those tree people needed saving, I just helped out." he shrugged as Izzy rolled her eyes as usual.

  "Greg…your last home had like 20 tons of rare African hardwood flooring. We know you did it for the likes and the views because you couldn’t pass an opportunity to surf an exploding star. You took like ten minutes to help the people evacuate and they didn’t even need your help. Then you faked a shuttle failure and spent 3 hours vloging about how there was no way to get away from the exploding star. It was a publicity stunt you just tacked onto some light volunteer work."

  "Buzzkillington to the rescue!" Greg cheered.

  "Men... Since Duffy left, it's just me and 3 of you clowns." she huffed.

  "Okay firstly, there are 2 Izzy's and a Gizzy you keep hogging, that's 3 to 3 gender equality and Menace is a hermo-frog so she doesn’t count at all. We're dead-level. Secondly, yea it was a publicity stunt but so what? I volunteered, I helped some people. I was already there and I had some fun with the situation and got a badass video. I didn't even lie. That shuttle pod they gave me was going to the junk yard, before I asked them if I could have it. That’s called recycling and it’s good for the environment. It wouldn’t have been safe for anyone else, so I rigged it to blow and give me the boost I needed. After that, there really was no way out of it. Once the timer was set, it was a done deal and no turning back, would have been dangerous and irresponsible to have someone come and get me. I was just documenting the countdown dramatically to make the Surfie even cooler."

  "Stop calling it the Surfie. Selfies aren't cool anymore, especially if you're over 40, let alone 15 thousand, it's just gross. When you call it a Surfie, I throw up in my soul a little." Izzy insisted.

  "Well SocialSpace disagrees. Grampa Destruction surfs a supernova is trending right now and the middle-finger Surfie of doom is now a thing…granted 3 people have died attempting it already, but they were idiots so…it's probably fine. No children got hurt, and if grown-ass adults don’t realize they can't survive a space explosion on an actual surfboard, then I don’t know what to tell you. You can't hold the universe's hand, Izzy. Plus we made money." he shrugged.

  "Wait…how?" she asked.

  "I have no idea, but people love to watch me do stupid shit, and I regenerate so it's essentially a sustainable cash crop until we can find a better source. You could all stab me in the back with knives and I'd be fine" he scoffed.

  "Can we kick you in the balls?" asked Lawg?"

  "No." Greg answered. “The point is: I’m a money magnet. This Internet sight is perfect for us. No cargo runs, no contraband, no long trips. SocialSpace is the biggest social media sight in all of space, cyber or otherwise. It’s one sight interfacing all the big social media platforms, linking them like one big hive. We could sustain a living just with this alone, if everyone contributed.” She suggested.

  “Not all of us can ride a shockwave through space and be fine, Greg.” Marley noted.”

  “Well obviously the stunts and extreme sporting would be my thing, and like a boss, I would carry the majority of the lead, but you three and even Menace could pool together and get maybe a combined 30 percent of my views and followers. That’s 30 percent more income.” He smiled. "Be creative."

  “Oh really?” Izzy said crossing her arms. “All of us together may achieve a whole 30 percent of your greatness and following, if we really work hard?”

  “…it’s possible.” He nodded. "But you gotta drop the attitude."

  "Greg strutted past the dipshits with a swollen eye and a beer, minding his own business as the others enjoyed their meal at the restaurant.

  "Hey there…internet and jerk-asses" Marley said staring blankly and then leaning in towards the camera way too late. It's Marley, and we're here at Boobs, Babes and Beers. Me and Lawg are gonna try the stupid-wing challenge." he said

  "I dunno. You think we should open with an insult?" Lawg asked

  "Cooking with Greg always does, and people love that. He once called everyone colon-farmers and spleen fondlers, I don’t even know what that is but it's harsh."

  "Yea but this isn't Cooking with Greg. It's Good Marley Morning. We do thing's differently. Our channel is family friendly shenanigans and clean wholesome goofing off.” Lawg beamed proudly. The knockery waitress giggled to the table with the tray.

  "Here is your Stupid-Wing tray with extra Titty-sauce. Would you like another fresh from the tap Brewbie?" asked Tits McGee, as Izzy gave them a blank look of disappointment.

  "Really? Tits and spicy wings?" she asked. "This is how you plan to beat Greg on views and likes?"

  "No." Marley objected. It's the reactions the people want, not the wings. The tits are obviously part of the appeal, people live tits. You could almost just have tits alone, but we also have 2 dorks about to suffer eating stupid-hot wings and accepting a manly right of passage. I'm the Marley-Beast, and this is the Lawg-dog!" he said throwing a furry gang sign.

  "BEAST! ARF!” Lawg flexed, barking like a big dog.

  "I wanna go home. Huuuaaagh." Lawg said, heaving in a fancy bucket.

  "You did good, bro, you got most of that second wing down before you cried and peed yourself. That's good internet karmas." Marley said patting him on the back.

  "Was it manly?" Lawg burped.

  "N…no. not at all, but that's the best part. People love the content, not the manliness. They love the ACTION, and then the re-action. As long as you're an entertaining ween, then ween is views, and views is likes."

  "Did we get all the love?" he asked.

  "We got 43 loves, bro."

  "Is that good?" Lawg asked.

  "The cat farting video got almost a million, but it's fine, we'll figure out more ideas." Marley encouraged. "Maybe less wings and just more boobs in the thumbnail pics, I mean half the people just want boobs pics anyway." Marley chuckled. Izzy looked side to side with shifty eyes and slowly made her way to her room. She opened her laptop and began typing. Her face looked both guilty and mischievous.

  "Alright, Greg…let's see what the people really want." she muttered.

  Marley looked as confused as Lawg. They replayed the video.

  "I'm so very confused." Marley admitted.

  "You and me both. Who new Menace knew handy crafts?" Lawg asked.

  "She doesn’t, the page is just called 101 handy crafts. Did you make her a page or did she do this herself?" Marley asked him

  "I can't do computer; it says in the thingy that she made the websight page. I keep thinking Menace is just a dumb kid or some sort of animal…no offense. And then she sets up a websight and overnight has like a thousand followers and 10 video on craft projects." Lawg said "Is she secretly intelligent or are we just judging her intelligence wrong because she can't English and eats clay?"

  "Yes, but then you see the videos and it's just her yelling PANDA and applying hot-glue to spoons, and then you kinda think you were originally right again. She didn’t make the webpage, she just found one. What is wrong with the internet? This isn't content. Where is the fun dialogue, or the pranks or the jokes or the humor? It's just a few yelled words and wasting supplies on dangerous and pointless glue-projects that accomplish nothing. Every video is 5 minutes of nothing, literal nothing. Here is one called "How to peel an onion without crying" and it's just a grape on the floor, and then she yells GYM MEMBERSHIP and drops a book on it." Marley shrugged.

  "Strange." Lawg gasped.

  "It got more views than our wing challenge and we had boobs in the thumbnail."

  "Damn you internet, you used to have principals!" cursed Lawg.

  "PROTIENS!" agreed Menace, shaking her fist to the sky in protest.

  "Um…Greg…this isn't as bad as it looks." Izzy nervously explained as she peered back from a suggestive pose on her red couch, and put down the selfie stick slowly.

  "Kinda looks like you're taking booty pics for the internet." he said trying not to smirk.

  "It's not…I'm only going down as far as a bikini, it's socially acceptable to wear a bikini in public so why not just post a picture and get some views. It's actually very tasteful."

  "Izzy, you're not 15. You're not my daughter or my granddaughter. You're a beautiful, adult woman, with a fantastic body, that doesn’t even need photo manipulation to look that good. You act like I caught you cheating or something…that couch isn't an alien or anything, right?" he joked. She rolled her eyes. "I'm just saying this isn't that old stuffy universe, this is a new one and I'm not your old, stuffy, tyrannical sister-mom-clone who wants you to be a nun, I'm your boyfriend who think's your smoking hot and if you feel comfortable showing off that body…show it off. Hell, I've done concerts shirtless, you think I did that because it was hot outside?"

  "I thought you'd be jealous or mad." she said.

  "I got a rockin chick with amazing assets, why would I be ashamed of her?"

  "So you wouldn’t be mad if I told you that I've been secretly modeling for 2 weeks now and I'm up to 900,000 subscribers?"

  "No…that's great. How much does that make? 25, 35 percent of my page?" he smiled.

  "Like…85 percent. I'm almost making as much money as you are!" she smiled, feeling relieved that her secret was out.

  "That's…really close to my level of popularity." he smiled, looking slightly worried. "And as your supportive boyfriend, I support that. I have to." he smiled nervously.

  A loud squeak echoed through the ship as Greg's feet slid through the kitchen.

  "Shit, shit shit." Greg said rummaging through the kitchen cabinets.

  "Sup?" Marley asked, looking for a banana.

  "Do we have any sulfur?" Greg pondered.

  "Sure…" Marley said with a sarcastic blink. "Right next to the milk and beside the box of arsenic."

  "Crap…I was gonna make some pyrotechnics. I need views and subscribers, fast."

  "Izzy's babe model thing catching up to you?"

  "Yea, really quick. Turns out all she has to do is take a picture and green-screen a cool background, takes like 15 minutes. I gotta do 3 hours of filming and editing and that's after I figure out and execute a badass stunt. I need ideas." Greg said frantically.

  "Cant compete with boobs, Greg." he yawned.

  "Sure I can…I'm Greg. I just have to try harder and go bigger."

  "That's a good point…pull out all the stops, go all big all at once, get the views." he smiled. "No long-term plan, everything all at once!"

  Marley and Lawg sat behind a desk and smiled as the screen adjusted.

  "Good Marley Morning. Today we ask the age old question you all have been dying to know for millennia…will it plasma? We took 20 popular items you wanted to see put in the plasma reactor to find out if it would plasma." Marley said as the scene dramatically cut to the reactor room, filled with smoke.

  "Our first item, that we find out if it will, will be…doughnuts." Lawg said as they turned and timed to speak in unison.

  "Doughnuts…will it plasma?" they asked. The scene cut to a dark room full of smog and alarms as the fire suppressant shut the safely doors behind them and they coughed their last cough before getting a real breath.

  "The answer is no." wheezed Lawg. "Nothing will Plasma except actual Plasma. The warning label was correct and now we need a new filter manifold and our mechanic ran away with the gay robot." he hacked.

  "Technically not correct, but we do need a new manifold. Anyway, doughnuts don’t Plasma." Marley nodded.

  "Tune in next week when we leave things on a shelf for a week in a jar of antimatter to see if things will antimatter." Lawg coughed.

  "No, Lawg, we discussed this. We would explode and die. We're not doing the antimatter skit. We're doing "Watch'u Taco bout?" where we run various popular brands of tacos through a blender to see if it will blend, and then run the juice through a water filter to see if it will water filter. We discussed this twice." Marley informed.

  "Then do we let it sit in antimatter for a week?" he asked.

  "I'll consider it." Marley bluffed. Lawg fist-pumped the air excitedly and then coughed some more.

  A catchy, generic, but oddly satisfying metal riff played in the darkness of a black screen. The screen flashed red with a bull skull and a mushroom cloud, as the music got heavier. Drums machine-gunned violently as the logo burst into flames and rushed the screen like an animal eating its audience.

  "READY…FIGHT!" said the computer voice, as Greg appeared, hanging onto the bottom of the ship as it dipped into atmosphere. The glow of re-entry burned across his face as he lowered himself down by one arm with a bicep flex, and placed a cigar in his mouth as it burned to a cinder. He smiled, his titanium glasses starting to glow red as he un-tethered a metal ball from the ship's underside, and palmed it like a basketball. He smiled, looking up at the pro-cam and letting go with a sudden heavy-metal hand gesture. dropping into the clouds.

  He iron-Jordan soared down through the clouds as the video cut from first-person Greg angle, to rapid zoom space view and back to Greg. The drums machine-gunned faster and the vocal roar powered every metalhead viewer like audio-heroin. Greg did a falcon pose, trailing a tail of fire behind him as the tracking camera followed his movement and the slow-motion setting clicked on, as it zoomed to the basketball hoop that was dangling from the flying drone.

  The drone hovered as the yellow streak roared towards it and Greg let out a mighty roar, reared back for the 86,000 meter dunk at mach 10. The camera zoomed on the net and suddenly there was a quick flash as the streak whizzed past it, practically out of the frame entirely. There was a moment of stillness, followed by the gentle wave of the net as the shocked air pressure of the impact below, blew the rope slightly.

  Greg reviewed the footage as Marley cringed.

  "Wow…I don’t know what went wrong. I thought I line that up perfect." Greg said shaking his head.

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  "Dude, perfect is tough. You tried to dunk from space at like 5 times the speed of a sniper bullet. I'm shocked you even saw the backboard."

  "Damn I was so close." he said breaking his pencil.

  "Weeeeeel. Close considering the actual logistics of it, sure. but…" Marley cringed. "I mean you missed by 161 feet, it's not like you touched net."

  "I can't just rely entirely on invincibility. There has to be an impressive element and some skill, creativity, general badass factor. I'm competing with tits here." Greg reminded.

  "Yea you might just be screwed…OR…" Marley paused. "You could just do less impressive stuff as Gizzy, and use the chick-factor to bump up the coolness. Think about it. Guy dunks…kinda cool. Chick does the same dunk…mind blown."

  "Feels kinda dirty." Greg admitted with a scowel.

  "I don’t mean being vulgar about it, but it's a proven fact that the internet is pretty sexist and mostly made of men. This is about views and hits and likes, and chicks doing the same stuff tend to get more views. Every time, even if they are being totally equal and not trashy and gross, just being athletic and professional. Anything badass is more badass if a chick does it when it's a male popular sport. Gizzy it up." He shrugged.

  "Man, I don’t know. I like being ME. I like being popular for being me, not just for being a chick and doing the same shit. That's sexist…or anti-sexist."

  "Aren't you kind of a sexist guy?"

  "No, I'm just naturally hyper-masculine. I never viewed women as inferior I just acknowledge them as different and having different average skills. Just because I find women attractive, doesn’t make me sexist… you can be masculine and vulgar and hyper-sexualized without feeling any gender is inherently better. That's just closed minded. I just don’t feel right using my privilege of having a female form on-demand to get free points for nothing, if I can earn them being badass and myself. It just seems cheap." he shrugged.

  "Cheaper than having less views than when Izzy shows some cleavage?"

  Izzy gave her best pouty face as she took her 8th selfie on the hologram Venice trip, trying to flex her thong-ass as much as possible for the shot. She checked her profile and looked disappointed.

  "Damn…what more do you people want? I give you slutty tourist, slutty cab driver, slutty Santa's helper. If I wear any less I won't be wearing anything. Why do these web-babes get the views?" she asked herself. "Group photos." she said, biting her lip.

  Izzy lifted her hat and opened her mouth like she was silently cheering on some theme park ride, as she threw her hands up bimbo-ishly. She hugged other Izzy, doing a similar pose with a stuffed bear that she totally won at the hologram carnival they posed in front of. Greg walked in as both Izzy's jumped in the exact same reaction.

  "That's cheating." he said sitting down and grabbing for a turkey leg that vanished just as he realized it was only refracted light, further fueling his disappointment.

  "It's not cheating." she objected.

  "Technically you're two models now, so that means you have to divide the points in half." he shrugged.

  "Who cares?" they both shrugged in unison. "All the money just pools into the ship's funds anyway." they scoffed.

  "Yea but for the records, each of you only gets half the credit." he noted. "So I'm still making more than you." he said.

  "This is about your ego. You were fine with me being strong and confident and the right to my own body and that shit, but when I make more than you, suddenly it's not fun anymore because Izzy is now the primary bread winner. Izzy is bringing home the bacon." they both said like a mirror version of Greg's personal nightmare.

  "Which is it, bread or bacon? You can't have everything!" he argued.

  "Why can't you be proud of me? This is just smart business. I doubled my money by just being both of me and taking pictures. It's easy money and you were fine before. What is it with men needing to make more money?"

  "It's a provider thing. I'm proud of you for making money, I'm just mad that I can't make more then you. I can't even dunk a freaking basketball from 80 thousand meters."

  "Nobody can, that's why it sounded so crazy impressive. It's impossible."

  "I was really close."

  "No you werent, you were like 200 feet off the mark. I saw the video. Marley added cartoon sound effects and a womp-womp, and then posted it on fail-gods. He got a ton of views."

  "That little furry bastard." Greg growled. "What sauce goes good with rabbit?"

  "You're not going to eat him, stop dodging the subject. You're not insecure, I know you, you're just jealous because I do nothing, and make a killing, and you break your back doing these ridiculous dude-impossible stunts and get jack for it. Sorry but the internet isn't about stunts. The internet is about random stupid garbage crafts and pictures of sluts. Sorry, but your girlfriend is a cam slut. Older Izzy was a slut, her clone was a slut, I come from a long line of clone-sluts and apparently there is no fighting destiny."

  "Fine. Show your ass and your other ass and make money tossing beach balls to yourself in a thong, in front of a fake Fiji vacation, while I figure out how to make money doing something interesting. Anyone can giggle and wear a swimsuit, what's so special about that?"

  "Ask my fanbase…I now have 40 percent more fans that you...thanks to my dear, sweet, twin sister Tammy, joining me on my Fiji Yoga vacation." she smiled snidely.

  "Hope there is a hurricane and you both miss your nonrefundable flight." he said storming out. "And both of your asses are getting fatter!"

  "Good Marley Morning, you crazy goobers. Today we're eating every item and crazy-nick's burger hut…only there's a twist…one of us has a shocking confession you won't believe. This entire time, one of the two of us has actually been 3 kids in a trench coat standing on one another's shoulders, pretending to be an adult!" Marley said with a look of shock and horror.

  "Wait…WHAT?" Lawg gasped.

  "No, cut. We can edit that out." Marley face-palmed as Menace stopped bringing the tray of food.

  "Seriously…WHAT?!" he asked.

  "Dude, it's clickbait, obviously." Marley assured.

  "Oh thank god." Lawg sighed with relief.

  "Oh don’t get too relieved, we're eating the entire menu at crazy-nick's burger hut and I'm vegan so you get to eat all the meat items."

  "Sweet, I like meat." shrugged Lawg as Menace placed down his tray and his half of the huge selection of food.

  "Oh good, because crazy-nick's has the nastiest items legally sold as food. We have bird penis, walrus gonad, something else alien, but this is clearly some kind of genitalia so it counts as meat."

  "Why do we do this?" asked Lawg, looking very sad.

  "For our loyal 125 followers. Shut up and eat some scrotum while I try and figure out how to ingest what appears to be just a bowl of gelatinous wet sand."

  Greg donned his winter goggles, adjusting his snowboard footing.

  "So you wanna see the fury of an ice-giant's hurricane, during a frozen methane tsunami-warning?" he yelled at the camera, holding on to the steel cable anchored to the pad of frozen some-form-of-ice. "Well, this is how you snowboard at ten degrees above absolute zero. Let the mayhem begin…MAYHEM!!!" he roared

  Hey there, Good Marley Morning to you, and get ready for a special show." Marley said excitedly. "Today we're ranking vegan hot-dogs from best to worst based on planet of origin, only there is a twist…all of these hot dogs have been made by ingredients run through a coffee maker and left in a jar of Champaign on a shelf for 3 days. Welcome to the Alco-coffee-dog, interplanetary mukbang, showdown of ultimate vegan destiny, showdown…hotdog edition." Marley said with dramatic bug-eyes and a look of terror.

  "But wait, there's more." Lawg said awkwardly finding the camera. "Every round will be unlabeled and blind tasted. You have to guess what planet this hot dog is from by throwing a dart at the dart wheel of death. The closest to the correct planet wins a point. at the end of the game, the winner is crowned Vegan Frank, and wins the rights to eat the best vegan dog. The loser has to eat all the other dogs re-blended up with a Savage-69 black-hole pepper, the hottest pepper in the galaxy. One of us will die today, and playing with us is our special guest from the channel you know as 101 handy crafts, Menace!"

  "CANADA!" she yelled.

  "I'm worried as well." agreed Lawg, fumbling a knife and fork. Marley yanked it away quickly.

  "See, this is why we don’t give Lawg sharp things." Marley said, patting Menace on the head as a reminder.

  "TOFU!" she smiled.

  Greg sat in a thinker-pose, staring at the screen and brainstorming up a viable hurricane. He let out a frustrated sigh and opened a fresh brew.

  "It's just wrong." he sighed as Lawg walked by and ventured cautiously in with a knock. Greg waved him.

  "You seem plervexed." Lawg nodded.

  "Not a word, but yes, I'm stumped here. Every stunt gets a slightly lower rating despite being just as badass or more-so. Their like crackheads, nothing is good enough and they need a bigger fix to get the same satisfaction as the last dose. I can't win. I'm already doing the most insane shit in the universe. I just snowboarded an ice-giant planet's polar vortex, in chain mail boxers, and finished with a quadruple backflip, while on fire, through a ring of 1000 degree red-hot kitchen knives, while drinking an alcoholic energy drink by biting the can in half. I got fewer views than two Izzy's in swimsuits eating ice-cream cones and "accidentally" bumping asses at one point."

  "Nice! Can you send me the link?" Lawg asked as Greg glared at him angrily. "So that I can block it, obviously, and go watch your video." he said nervously.

  "I have no choice, I either stick to my principals and lose, due to sexist bullshit, or embrace sexist bullshit and go-go-gadget Gizzy for my next stunt. I can't win without evening the playing field with some level of cheap T and A."

  "Why not just throw darts, and throw up from eating nasty things…but AS Gizzy." Lawg suggested.

  "How is that working for you guys…you hit 1000 fans yet?"

  "That's a fair point; you shouldn’t listen to my advice."

  "I'm not, I'm just saying my idea aloud and hoping you don’t agree, because if you agree it's probably time to check my math and start over."

  "Descent logic." Lawg nodded.

  Greg stretched and got comfy in the cryo-bed, putting on the headpiece and dialing up the Gizzy to run some tests for the reflexes. He opened her eyes and felt very unusual.

  "This isn't my diagnostic pod." Gizzy said as she looked down to see she was wearing lingerie and sitting on the red couch. She looked up at Izzy, who looked frozen like a deer in headlights.

  "What the ass?" Gizzy barked. "My glorious ass specifically!"

  "Oh…um…Greg?" she asked hesitantly.

  "Of course it's me, who the hell else logs on to Gizzy, and you're supposed to call me Gizzy when I'm Gizzy-ing. Why are you already Gizzy-ing my Gizzy?" she asked. Izzy clicked the laptop to standby, accidentally bumping the live feed and dropping the microphone over.

  "Oh hey, Izzy's live thing is on." Marley yawned as Lawg tossed his coloring book and aimlessly bailed over the couch to see the screen. "Not a little bit obvious there Speedy Lawgzollas." Marley snipped.

  "Sorry, I'm just being a supportive captain. Can we zoom in on the action?" he asked pervishly.

  "It's a live feed, we don’t control it. We don’t even have sound. Looks like Greg in the Gizzy body and regular Izzy are fighting. Can't really tell what's being said."

  "Gre…" she started, rolling her eyes "…Gizzy! God, this is stupid, it's like fighting with a mirror. This is not what it looks like." she defended.

  "It kinda looks like you're whoring out my Gizzy body." Gizzy snipped, with an attitude-rich bounce.

  "You said I was an adult woman who could do whatever I wanted with my body and you weren't ashamed of me. I'm not a pornstar, I'm not cheating on you, I'm just modeling in suggestive outfits."

  "You're modeling ME in suggestive outfits. For the love of Tits, this isn't a top it's 2 stickers and tassels. It's weird enough with the twin sister act and now you brought me into it." Gizzy barked.

  "It's a clone of my body, how is this not my right to do what I want with?"

  "Because we agreed that this is mine. I own it, we had a verbal contract and I already made alterations. What if your stepdad bought you 3 girly-ass little sportcars and I had no vehicle, so you sold me one of them. You can't just go walk into my garage and take it out for a spin, go put a new steering wheel cover on it and go clubbing, it's my car. The fact that it's manufactured identical to your cars is irrelevant. I've had it painted and fancy interior work done." Greg listed.

  "Gross." she sighed.

  "Not the Gizzy interior, the car…it's a metaphor, stop being weird."

  "Wish we had sound." Lawg said, passing the popcorn to Menace as they gathered around the screen and watched.

  "Yea, but look at the views. It's basically just twins fighting silently and it's got a ton of viewers already." Marley said. "I'm gonna hack the feed real quick and add some music. You wanna go comedy or drama or what?"

  "Barry." Squinted Lawg.

  "Of the White variety? Oh that's messed up…kay, got it cued up. Live feed should have access to the music and the video…now." he said hitting the go button.

  "This changes everything." Lawg smirked as he suddenly felt awkward and looked back and forth at the others judging him. "I know, I know. I'm horrible but so is THAT many fans. Stop judging me."

  "But think of it from my perspective!" yelled Izzy, bouncing in her skimpy top as she protested. "I have a sister-parent-mom who ruined my reputation before I was even born, and now that I got a fresh start in a universe where nobody knows me…I got you being Gizzy and making a scene in an identical body to mine, literally MY body. So everyone sees me doing your stupid antics and causing trouble, and now that you have your own Gizzy, I know it's going to get worse." she said giving Gizzy a boob punch.

  "Ratings just jumped. Cat fight in progress, switching from Barry to fight-metal. Menace, fire up the Fupar game and run the betting algorithms, we may have a betting crowd willing to bet real money on this." Marley bobbed.

  "I'm not hitting you back." Gizzy said crossing her arms.

  "Bitch. I've seen you hit a girl before." she snipped, boxing Gizzy's arm.

  "That was Jenny, she was literally trying to kill you and then everyone else. I think when a maniacal murderous psycho tried to execute your girlfriend you're given a free pass. It's not like she just refused to make me a sandwitch!" he barked.

  "You're a girl right now, so fight back." Izzy prompted.

  "I'm not punching my girlfriend with her own fist, that's wrong on multiple levels."

  "HA! Got you, so it's not really YOU, it's ME and MY body and you're just borrowing it. Because it's Izzy on Izzy and you know it. You're just mad because there's 3 of me and you can't have a spare Greg even if you could dual-pilot. It's unfortunate and I'm sorry you got screwed over, but that's life."

  "Say's the spoiled rich girl who get's everything. You got sucked into another universe and printed off from scratch and you still ended up with the biggest room on the ship, a boyfriend who protects you, 2 spare bodies, and your own bathroom. Boy you're roughing it out there." Gizzy yelled.

  "I know, Poor Greg growing up in a Teepee and all you viewers were horses."

  "It was a Yurt, not a Teepee. Ancient pre-Mongolian, not Native American, get your racial stereotypes right. And this isn't a competition!"

  "It IS, it absolutely IS a competition with you. I just wanted to make money and contribute as a team and be counted, and you had to be the top dog as always. And what happens when you make it a competition? I have to prove that I can win at something. So congratulations, It's your need to win that drove me to this extreme. I was happy with some light modeling, but now you started this monster!" she yelled. Vigorously shaking her boobs from side to side.

  "BOOBS!" Lawg yelled, as Marley slapped him.

  "Pull yourself together, Captain Horny! We have friends in trouble and we need to focus, also the views are soaring and we need views." Marley said typing faster. "Maybe we can tap into the ship's warning speakers and use them as a microphone."

  "You can do that?" asked Lawg.

  "I don’t know, hence the use of the word maybe in that sentence."

  "I don’t understand, GIZZY…if you want a spare body so bad, why can't you just de-print down to the frame and re-print another chick, so it's your own custom slut and not another Izzy!"

  "Because I feel connected to you!" Gizzy blurted.

  Marley hit enter.

  "Got it. We have sound." he smiled.

  "You what?" Izzy asked.

  "I feel connected to you, not just as the chick I'm screwing, but one some kind of deeply emotional level." Gizzy yelled. The ratings went up.

  "Awe, that's kinda sweet." Smiled Marley. "That's really wholesome if you know that the Goth Izzy is actually…Greg…and not…her twin sister." He said, as his smile faded to uncomfortable sadness. "Except literally nobody else knows that and the ratings are still going up. And now I feel kinda nasty" Marley added.

  "I'm okay with it." Lawg smirked. Suddenly he remembered that one of them was Greg and it lost it's appeal to him.

  "So you just realized you were staring at Greg's ample jugs, didn't you?" Marley noted as Lawg looked even sadder.

  "I miss Duffy and the gay robot, thing's were simpler back then." he said.

  "Gizzy…you love me?" Izzy said tearing up and looking emotionally fragile.

  "Of course I do, I've been shot and stabbed for you and never regretted it. I care for you, and not just because you're hot like your mom."

  "He's making it worse with the coincidentally ironic wording; we may need to cut the feed." Marley sighed, looking for an override command.

  "Don’t worry, he'll say something that clarifies the situation rather than making the bad thing look more like what it's not." Lawg shrugged.

  "Ever since we started swapping and I've spent more time with you, learning you from the inside, where nobody else has been, I've felt closer to you. I know you are trying to handle as many bodies as possible, and you seem to be getting used to two at a time but 3 is just wearing you out. It's too much strain and if I can take care of this body while you handle the other two…we can divide the load better. I love you too much to see you under that much weight, and sometimes a mission needs a woman's touch, and I can't have you going down there getting hurt when I can fill in for you. Staying connected to you in some way makes me feel like we're both down there, working together."

  "Nope, he's making it worse." Marley nodded.

  "I guess I'm just the competitive type." Gizzy sighed. "And I need to be the best at what I do and when the situation needs a woman, you're the perfect woman."

  "So the short hair, the excessive makeup and the dye, and the eccentric clothing style is just to stand apart?" Asked Izzy.

  "You have to admit, the ruby lipstick is hotter than the natural pink you use. I gotta make you jealous a little bit, or you'd forget who's behind these pretty pink eyes." Gizzy smirked.

  "Come here you big stupid bastard." she said grabbing Gizzy's belt and pulling her in for a kiss. The ratings skyrocketed.

  "It got too weird, abort the feed!" Lawg yelled.

  "I cant, it's not my feed, we're just watching. All I can do is kill the music." Marley said clicking desperately. "Nope, just switched it back to Barry, though technically more fitting at the moment. Aaaaand my computer locked so we can't do anything. I made it worse." he admitted.

  "So do we…keep watching or go tell them they're live?" Lawg asked

  "You wanna go knock on the door while 2 crazy, thermonuclear demigods are fighting and-or making out?" Marley asked.

  "So really just watch or don’t watch are the options."

  "Basically." Marley nodded in defeat.

  "Well…I mean, she's gonna be pissed but, we can buy a new ship with the money." Lawg nodded.

  "Or a moon at this rate. I could set off the fire alarm and stop them…maybe. It may just turn it into a wet T-shirt show at this point.

  "It's worth the risk." Lawg nodded.

  "So…" Greg said as Izzy nervously drummed her fingers on the couch and they stared at the screen. "Who get's the points for that? You wanna split it 50/50?" he asked.

  "Greg, I swear." she warned. "You turned me into a pornstar."

  "Sorry, bad timing." he whispered. "If it makes you feel any better…both of your asses look great in every shot, the sprinklers really added some ambient effect."

  "Greg…" she started as he tossed his hands up in surrender.

  "Nope. Silence." He said softly as the ship drifted through space. "I'll just call this a finished project and end it here." He said, walking away.

  "Dumbass." She sighed.