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I awoke from my borrowed slumber with the most intense and realistic hunger pangs i'd ever experienced while Body Bouncing. Or, to give this highly illegal psy-sport it's Ordo- sanctioned moniker:- Self Surfing.
Realistic sensations of any kind only confirmed one thing; that i'd very nearly exhausted this mortal vessel. By my reckoning i'd got about a days worth of life force remaining. If i'd not chosen a new candidate and bounced into the unsuspecting flebber, then i'd have to start all the way from the beginning once more.
You see, if the vessel in which you're rapturously enjoying yourself expires before a new one is secured, it begins to break down at the cellular level, and you end up looking like a centrefold in a DeathGuards jazz mag!! Well, lets just say it's not a pretty sight which eventually needs only a sponge to dispose of it. So all purveyours of the Self Surfing phenomena currently rife throughout the Imperium of Man, always endeavour to swap before they slop!

Anyhoo, where was i.... Oh yes, hungerpangs.
I dragged this carcass up and out of the 36th level hab-stack in which i'd found myself, and headed down to street level, and inside 15 chrons I was satisfying the annoying rumbly in his tumbly with a Double McGrox and cheese, no pickles. This body needed fuel, as i'd surfed it silly for three whole days now. Mind you, this was only because his fiance had one of those twinkles in her eye. Shame about the mutation though, but thats his choice not mine. Apparently cyclops-esque beauty had quite caught on. I reckon it started with The Navis Nobilite actually, but thats another tale for another time.

The massive influx of grox-fat soon turned into sugar and, refuelled, with no more rumbling, I left McDorns to find my next 'bounce-buddy'.

Now I know that this vessel which i'd half-inched from the park, didn't have a cold when i'd takenover it, so the green fluid running from my nose could mean one thing only.
Meltdown! A very real and panicky feeling washed over him and ended up sending a psy-chill down my spine. Refuelled or not, I obviously had less chrons in the meter than I believed.

But then, across from me, sat at a nearby Speeder-stop, was the perfect candidate. An adept from the Scholam-Psykana. A trainee Imperial astropath.
Exellent!!
A slight psy-profile on your next bounce-bud, was like fitting outboards on your rollerboots! (yes, rollerboots!) it made everything a whole lot less of an effort.
So without further ado, I released my mind-grip on the now rather slimy and ill-looking wretch after i'd placed a sense of gratitude within his sub-consionce. As it turned out, not a second too quick, because no sooner had I melded in my new vessel, when a shrill and blood curdling cry of 'Plague bearer' was loosed at my former toy.
As it happened, this was a fitting description actually because if you've ever seen a Who's Who of Nurgle's Star Players, my previous vassel had the snot effect off to a tee!!

Immediately two enforcement Officers from the local Plod, or Arbites as they are also known opened fire with their Hellguns, and blew the poor wretch to very small but extremely slimy bits.
All I could think was that there was no need for the gratitude nudge after all!!

So, without wasting any more of this lovely days chrons I arose from the bench, and walked away from all the hubbub i'd caused, feeling rather pleased with myself.

I turned towards the huge multi-spired Scholam Psykana, with a wry and oh-so smug grin upon on my loaned out mush, and went to find out what type of calamitous mischief I could create inside.

You never know your luck in a raffle, do ya?

13-06-2011.
Huffstar.
( As this is my first foray into the world of fictional fluff, any critics out there in the Void who wish to express an opinion, are more than welcome.
All comments appreciated.
My thanks.

This is odd but great!

Yeah, I enjoyed it a lot haha.

Edit: I just necro-d that... But it was cause I was thinking about the story, so its the authors fault. Haha