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Authors: Jared Roberts

Tags: #exploitation, #big boobs, #nazisploitation, #sharksploitation

Nazi Sharks! (15 page)

BOOK: Nazi Sharks!
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“Don’t stop the routine,
Queens!” Edwina exclaimed breathlessly.

They obeyed, continuing their
swanlike movement around the impromptu lightshow. That sneaky
strand of seaweed was toasted into pure carbon as the lasers
blasted the sea. The water began to heat up and bubble where the
powerful lasers made contact. But the sharks’ harsh, rectilinear
manoeuvres could never target the motions of the Queens.

Andrea uttered a gurgled shriek
as an eye-laser singed the nipple of her right tit. She knew
exactly where that shark was looking.

Before the laser-sharks could
detect the subtext of free, communal motion versus the controlled,
determined motions of a totalitarian regime, their overpowered
shark brains burst out of their own eyes, which their nervous
system had them instinctively begin eating. Not bad, actually. It’s
how they would’ve wanted to go.

The final row of sharks,
including Sharkenstein and the Shark Fuhrer, didn’t fuck around.
Nay, they had recourse at once to their mouth turrets, which they
fired every which way in the hopes of hitting something sexy.
Obviously some desperate sharks.

One of the bullets blasted
Nikki in the thigh, launching an abrupt wave of pain throughout her
body. A trail of blood rose up from the fresh wound, blossoming on
the surface before her face.

“I’ve been hit!” she shouted to
the others, unable to continue her role in the routine.

“They shot my sexiest leg,
those Nazi fish fucks!”

Andrea and Steph left the
routine to support Nikki, as true friends would do. They each
gripped an elbow and began swimming her to shore in a zig-zag
pattern.

The Shark Fuhrer launched small
torpedoes from its mouth at the girls, which missed, thanks only to
the zigzags. One grazed Andrea’s hair, sending the strands into an
instant coma.

Edwina saw the danger her
friends were in and determined to end it once and for all. Not just
the sharks. She had led her friends into danger and indignity one
too many times. That was coming to an end one way or the other.
Preferably the way that involves the sharks dying and her emerging
victorious with a million dollars.

“Damn you megalodickbags!” she
growled in the
Die Hard
moment she’d be waiting for. “I’m
going boob-a-geddon on your asses.”

She dove beneath the surface,
hoping her friends heard her cool line, and swam directly at the
well-armed sharks. Sharkenstein initiated his stash of ass-nitro,
propelling himself toward her at jet-ski rates. His jaws chattered
like wind-up novelty teeth on meth. As his sharp, phallic head
prepared to ram Edwina through the womb, she jutted her overflowing
tatas and hoped for the best. Sharkenstein’s head audibly cracked
like a walnut before he could set tooth on her, red bubbles
gurgling from the cracked exoskeleton. His metal jaws landed at the
floor of the sea beside the Buried Treasure of Captain Jonathan
Stink Legs, so known for his life-long incontinence.

The remaining sharks pointed
their gaping mouths toward Edwina, ready to shoot and then
desecrate the fine corpse. But her powerful thighs hurtled her like
a torpedo toward the sharks, her chest filling their authoritarian
vision like a pair of white cannonballs.

“Eat my freedom-loving tits,
you Fuhrher-sucking evolutionary dingleberries!” she might’ve said,
had she not been beneath the water and holding her breath.

As she ran her tits right into
the Shark Fuhrher’s face, the radio between them blaring the Nazi
anthem at the highest volume possible, she felt the force of the
explosion pushing her up to the water. The last thing the sharks
ever thought was ‘Nice tits!’

Andrea and Steph waited on the
shore, with Nikki between them, for Edwina to resurface. She always
had to do something impulsive, didn’t she? But somehow, they had
faith she’d be okay. Something about Edwina—she just wasn’t born to
be murdered the way some people are.

“So Plan B is we send in
Stalin’s army of genetically modified manatees,” Beans whispered to
Warren. Warren might have commented, with his mouth or his fist,
but his mind was glued to the water.

As all watched, frothy blots of
red infused the surface of the ocean. A fin cut through the froth
at a leisurely pace. They couldn’t speak, couldn’t even breathe.
Even Edwina couldn’t hold her breath for that long. The fin
suddenly capsized and vanished from sight like a toy boat upon
which toy sluts on Spring Break were drunkenly partying. Edwina
broke the surface in a red, chunky splash. She wiped the shark guts
and brains off of her face and took a deep gasp of the sweet, sweet
air. She began the swim to shore, leaving a trail of viscera behind
her. The Queens, even Nikki, hastened to meet her for a much-needed
group hug.

“I am going to sell so many
books,” Beans muttered to himself.

“And all of the proceeds will
be enjoyed by the victims’ families,” Walker stated, slapping Beans
on the back. “Maybe a little support for breast cancer
research.”

“That comes later,” Warren
said. “Let’s get our heroes cleaned up.”

 

 

Chapter 32

Just Rewards

 

The newspapers, national and
local, had several field days with the story. The headlines were
wry, witty, often extremely stupid, emphasizing the power of
boobage, the evil of Nazis, and how totally awesome the
synchronized swim team was. Such an odd story; it was forgotten in
a week.

However, before the excitement
blew over so the world could focus their attention on the Maoist
Pterodactyls of Wangablo Mountain, the whole town of Shakatitt
Beach (minus Crazy Dave Sr., who continued trying to teach mice to
cook soufflé) assembled to honor the babes who had saved their
town.

The girl-group formerly known
as the Bubblegum Queens sat behind the mayor in front of town hall,
wearing their bubble-gum pink bikinis. Why? A PR guy told them to.
The mayor adjusted his throat and began his (self-)congratulatory
spiel before the cameras of every news agency in the country.

“As mayor of Shakatitt Beach,”
he announced, “I can’t articulate how proud I am to present these
beautiful, very healthy, young ladies, who saved our town from both
a serial killer and a swarm of killer sharks, the Key to the City.
Every Shakatitt door is open to you girls. Oh, and there’s this
commendation from the President of the United States, too.”

The crowd erupted into applause
that sent Edwina into a flashback to the horrific explosion of
sharks beneath the waters of Shakatitt Beach. A Vietnam vet also
experienced a flashback and accused the man next to him of being a
spider’s nest.

“Anything you’d like to say?”
the mayor asked, turning to the girls.

Edwina, naturally, rose to
accept the award, at the behest of her friends. She composed
herself and, blushing, approached the podium. She accepted the
oversized skeleton key with the half-clover emblem and the
commendation from the President.

She hadn’t planned a speech.
She was told she’d only have to sit there and look good in a
bikini. And for the nonce, that had seemed a sweet deal. She looked
at the key and thought a little, and then it came to her.

“I really hate sharks,” she
said into the podium mic.

She returned to her seat and
laughed with relief, as did the others.

The audience applauded—a
standing ovation—and they just kept on applauding until it grew
kinda tiresome. But the girls hadn’t yet decided what crazy thing
they were going to do next, so they just sat there and smiled in
their bikinis.

 

The (Sexy) End

 

###

 

Holy Crap!

 

So, you’ve made it to the end of
Nazi Sharks!
Now what? Go back to school, major in English
Lit., and write your thesis dissertation on it? Sure, you could do
that.
Or
, you could leave an honest review and come on over
to www.nazisharks.net, where you can send me any death threats you
feel appropriate, enjoy some original
Nazi Sharks!
artwork,
and maybe even buy a t-shirt.

 

Thanks for reading!

Sincerely,

Jared Roberts

BOOK: Nazi Sharks!
10.55Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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