Randolf Pentagardner wanted desperately to have seven daughters simultaneously by seven women. “They must at least,” he thought, “be born in the same cut off time for fall eligibility to enter school.” He imagined the throng of beautiful daughters. All half German-English and the other half a medley of world culture. His head spun: “I’ll have a coca-cola commercial of diversity for a family!” The girls he would groom from the earliest conceivable age to be a perfect basketball team. He had thought for a while of adopting but he needed filial love to inspire the girls to professional level athleticism. Randolf turned his home into a basketball gymnasium. He had the ceilings raised appropriately. He hand painted the 3 - point line as well as a precise portrait of Zwanfano, the deity from outerspace who had inspired him with his passion in a prophetic series of nights experiencing open visions of his beautiful daughters executing a perfect triangle offense. Zwanfano had brought in his legal representative to assure that he would recieve 3% of any profits Randolf accrued from merchandising. “A small price to pay!” Randolf thought as walked the streets of New York City. He would go to bars for the next three months to carry out his mission. A glimmer of remorse entered Randolf’s heart when he thought about Zwanfano. “Will the basketball team of my daughter’s eclipse the joy I had with Zwanfano?
Head to Rapid Transmission for analysis and review of Science Fiction
For a science fiction read you can't put down, buy Joseph Hurtgen's cyberpunk romp, Tower Defender
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