1.0Sci Phi Journalhttps://www.sciphijournal.orgrich600338<blockquote class="wp-embedded-content" data-secret="Hk86Tpr0im"><a href="https://www.sciphijournal.org/index.php/2016/09/23/infinite-boyfriends-by-marie-vibbert/">Infinite Boyfriends by Marie Vibbert</a></blockquote><iframe sandbox="allow-scripts" security="restricted" src="https://www.sciphijournal.org/index.php/2016/09/23/infinite-boyfriends-by-marie-vibbert/embed/#?secret=Hk86Tpr0im" width="600" height="338" title="“Infinite Boyfriends by Marie Vibbert” — Sci Phi Journal" data-secret="Hk86Tpr0im" frameborder="0" marginwidth="0" marginheight="0" scrolling="no" class="wp-embedded-content"></iframe><script> /*! This file is auto-generated */ !function(d,l){"use strict";l.querySelector&&d.addEventListener&&"undefined"!=typeof URL&&(d.wp=d.wp||{},d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage||(d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage=function(e){var t=e.data;if((t||t.secret||t.message||t.value)&&!/[^a-zA-Z0-9]/.test(t.secret)){for(var s,r,n,a=l.querySelectorAll('iframe[data-secret="'+t.secret+'"]'),o=l.querySelectorAll('blockquote[data-secret="'+t.secret+'"]'),c=new RegExp("^https?:$","i"),i=0;i<o.length;i++)o[i].style.display="none";for(i=0;i<a.length;i++)s=a[i],e.source===s.contentWindow&&(s.removeAttribute("style"),"height"===t.message?(1e3<(r=parseInt(t.value,10))?r=1e3:~~r<200&&(r=200),s.height=r):"link"===t.message&&(r=new URL(s.getAttribute("src")),n=new URL(t.value),c.test(n.protocol))&&n.host===r.host&&l.activeElement===s&&(d.top.location.href=t.value))}},d.addEventListener("message",d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage,!1),l.addEventListener("DOMContentLoaded",function(){for(var e,t,s=l.querySelectorAll("iframe.wp-embedded-content"),r=0;r<s.length;r++)(t=(e=s[r]).getAttribute("data-secret"))||(t=Math.random().toString(36).substring(2,12),e.src+="#?secret="+t,e.setAttribute("data-secret",t)),e.contentWindow.postMessage({message:"ready",secret:t},"*")},!1)))}(window,document); //# sourceURL=https://www.sciphijournal.org/wp-includes/js/wp-embed.min.js </script> INFINITE BOYFRIENDS Marie Vibbert Nick the First My boyfriend, Nick, never approved of Stacey, or as he called her, “your friend the mad scientist.” He wasn’t being fair. It was true she lived in an abandoned observatory stuffed full of experimental equipment of her own design, but she made it cozy, draped the Victorian gothic interior with a thousand southwest-themed throw rugs, science fiction paperbacks and her husband’s collection of antique guitars. Scientist? Yes. Mad? No madwoman could decorate so tastefully. Her guinea pig had his own pipe-trail system that wove through the massive three-story structure, making her house feel