Apache King’s Troll


“Three lives left… Want to start level 7396 again”?… I click on start…

You know… I am the king. I am the Apache pilot. Apache – it is a helicopter. I can shoot a Taliban bunker from a 16 kilometer distance.

There are three screens in front of me.

On screen one I am king and commander of a 100.000 head army.

I run mines. I own steel plants in the hills. I rule nations.

On screen two I steer my Apache fighters through the clouds.

Screen three is for easy fun… chatting, gravity racing, ordering pizza, hacking or checking porn.


AND: On my smartphone I navigate an 18th century battle ship. I can break through Napoleon’s continental blockade in no time.

Moreover, I trade troops on screen one. On the chat someone pops up.

“Brother, I need men. Brother, support me with some arms please.”

We negotiate. A black window appears. I type green letters. 10.000 men change sides.

Six Apaches Sunburst 1 Million tons TNT rockets being transferred.

My business partners run kingdoms or command helicopter missions in another hemisphere.

They pay in bitcoins. Loads of bitcoins.

Indeed I am a rich man. YAY… Bitcoinbillionaire.

“Sunshine here, warm, thank you brother”, I type an answer: “freaky cold in here, all fucked up.”

On screen one I follow my former soldier marching into dead.


My eyes on screen two. An Islamic State convoy is being crushed into pieces. We are three Apache. 12 machineguns in total. My left fingers go click click click click… while my right fingers type “Hoady fuckers!” “Take That Robbyyeah”, “LOL”…

Finally IS’ fucked.

I collect points. Check new weaponry. Receive medals. Bow to president. Next mission awaits.


Did I mention I am a political writer? I comment on daily events. I give detailed statements and analysis. I explain politics for the less-intelligent reader.

“Merkelf***e hau ab!” More than 52165 followers like that. Only the admin complains: “Dear Erdogan Sickbüyü, please read our guidelines and comply.

My reply is a, “fuck off Lügenpresse!”


AND… I am Mr. Cockringding – that’s my profile name on Fuckmywife.com.

My profession is Monsterslayer.

Ladies love a cool slayer.

“Slayed a monster”, I proudly announce in the Dirty Phantasy Sex chatroom.

And Hongkongpussy8199 answer a “YAY”

“Huge treasure captured”, I type.

And she return “Woow, woooow!”

“I cut a diamante ring from the Monster’s finger. And I stole the Monster’s jade Buddha for you. What am I paid in return”?

And I read “Lick lick”

And “suck” and “swallow you deep”

I type a long “mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm” and she demands “use me”

“… sure”, I send a smile and describe how I use a new Hongkongpussy like mine. “Lips and tongue and throat all made for my pleasure.”


On screen two the Apaches are commanded to bomb Aleppo.

Boy!! Wow! I obey.

While Hongkongpussy continues sucking.

Me reply short text like “good girl” and “fuck you” and “swallow deep”.

Meanwhile killing IS fighter hidden behind ancient temples.


And on screen one the king rested at his river. King counting money.

On screen three the chat room is full now.

Fuckmywife.com users follow us fucking.

I am hungry. I order pizza. My smartphone brmmms…. Order confirmed.


“HKpussy want some wine?”


“Bordeaux 1995 Chateau Léoville Les Cases 150 Euro, enjoy”

She sends a smile and a snoopy. An angry bird and Spongebob.

Meanwhile I devastated some Syrian temples. Testing previously unknown virtual explosives.

A dramatic sundown on screen one.

Fuckers bathing in blood on screen two.

A drunken Hongkong girl on screen three.

Life’s grand.


A Plop and a Bing.

Mail received.

My Fuckmywife.com’s Mailbox.

I click.

“What you do with Hongkongpussy. Will you do the same with my wife?”

I am an experienced profile checker.

I identify trolls and catfish and fakes in seconds.

They look real.

They happened to be in Berlin.

I reply “sure” and “what chatroom”?

And they write “in real life”


Have you ever been inside that which they call “REAL LIFE”??

Real is Hell. Hell is Real. LOL.

I swear.


There’s a knock at my door. Someone delivers a pizza.

When I return there is an address and a time.

I am the king. I am the Apache pilot. I slay monsters. I am a capt’n and a pirate. I am no coward.

That’s why I go.


Berlin’s couples from FMW.com meet at Chatsubo sex cinema in Charlottenburg. The place’s front door is made of deteriorated East European steel. It can be opened with a 10 Euro note slid in a slut. It lets people into a wide maze of rooms, corners, cinemas and glory holes. Everything is constructed to be single, giant sex toy.


A clickclack and three seconds counted in order for one person to pass.

The air inside is sweet, odorous and salty. It carries a taste of cumshot and sweat; Helianthus annuus and disinfectant. I shoulder and bully my way through the crowd.


And there they are. She’s wearing a nurse costume and red nylons.

I say “Hi how are you?” … But they immediately want to talk about rules.

Fucking Germans are never easy.

“You are not allowed to expose anything about us to the public. My wife is a Senior Consultant Process Manager Specialist working for a prestigious German Information technology Company.”


“She oversees a 10 Million Euro budget. Industry 4.0 Automization of industrial plants in the food industry.”

I ask if this is a game too and he says: “They are working with the concept of Gamification, yes”


Someone behind me complaining “You wanna fuck or do you wanna talk?”

I ask for his profile name and platform and walk around two corners. Send him a friend invite. He accept immediately.

I return. Hubby is still making rules.

“I say fuck her, you fuck her.”

Uncertain smiles… this is not what I had planned for my real life identity.

You know… I dream of romance.

I long for kissing shyly.

Walks through places where trees are. See places where water is.

Is it “Lake”??

Sit and look up to see the blue they call “sky”.

I want to make friends with people from the Geocaching Group.

The big red-haired person with the undefined, rotating or unknown personal pronoun. Hug himherthey after we unearth our first case. Kissing, smiling, being shy and stupid … all this shite.


I leave the cumshotsmellyclouds as a group sex virgin.

Back home I find my little nurse’s work account. I hack into her admin’s console and raise her budget, optimize her production facilities and play the food.

Big triumph on the other screens too. On one the king celebrates a battle he won. Outside the palace the crowd is singing.

Screen two a new mission starts for the Apache pilots.

And on three a text sent by my beautiful, red-nylon wearing nurse …

“Did you hack into my account and play with my budget?”

“Me??? No way!!!”

“What do I owe you?”

“Your virtual self only. At least one of them.”


She types in keywords that can set a person’s mind on fire.

She knows thousands, maybe a million.

The king draws his curtains and steps out on the balcony. Crowd goes crazy.

The Apache slowly climbs into the clouds.

I read her next ten words.

That’s why I miss two missiles some arsehole shoots.

I read CUMMING!!! And in my pilot’s mind two missiles explode in two huge balls of fire.

“Game over” I read and “Do you want to start level 7396 again?”


I click on start…

I am an Apache pilot… I am a king … I slay monsters.

I hate reality.


Christian Raum / Author

Siobhan McKay / Editor, Proofreading

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