HAIRSHIRT
Helping You Get the Most Out of Your Misery
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HAIRSHIRT Helping You Get the Most Out of Your Misery |
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Thursday, October 07, 2004Choose Your Own Adventure
Just wanted to share some of my new fan fiction or "fanature", as some of the guys down at the gaming store call it. I started writing fanature over a decade ago when they canceled Quantum Leap and I had serious Lackula of Scott Bacula. I found, to my surprise, that, as someone who'd watched the show since it first came on the air--even taping it once a day on USA and once a day on the Sci-Fi channel--I was pretty adept at writing in the characters' voices. I soon had requests from the other members of my Starship to write some, shall we say, steamy little Deep Space Nine stories for them, sort of "put them in the 'action'", if you know what I'm saying. I cooked up all sorts of scenarios which depicted my fellow Trekkers entwined in a three-way with Nerys and Dax or coyly deflowering a ready and willing Jake Sisko. I was in pret-ty high demand, let me tell you.
Then came the net. With the proliferation of fan sites devoted to sci-fi and comic book characters of every shape and size, I greatly expanded my ouevre. I now had the power to be my favorite characters and share my adventures--erotic or otherwise--with like-minded individuals all over the world. Today, I wanted to share with you some of my favorite passages. I hope you find them as inspiring as my compadres on the message boards do. I must say, many a young novice has met with me in a private chat room to plumb the depths of my talent and take what bits of advice I was willing to dole out. They now toil in the same labor of love as I. Now, without further l'k'chok (as my Klingon brethren might say) here is the best of the best of my best. FANature of the first degree. First we have a piece I wrote for my then-girlfriend, who is a huge Catwoman fan. We were both so incredibly disappointed in the movie. Batman pulled Catwoman closer to him. He could smell the figs on her breath, which came heaving out from under her mask. He found it intoxicating. He thought about how he'd just returned The Scarecrow to Arkham after he'd attempted to poison Gotham's water supply and about the upcoming Justice League meeting to discuss the threat of Vandal Savage. For now, though, the only adventure on his mind was the adventure he might have when Catwoman took off her bodysuit. "Put down the cat-o-nine-tails, Selina," he said. She complied. He looked at her breasts and could make out the outline of an erect nipple beneath her costume. "I've been a naughty kitty," she purred. The FANature surrounding the television show Sliders is particularly rich, as the show had such a short initial run that fans had no alternative but to create their own stories. I'm particularly proud of my use of Wade in this story. The writers on the show never gave her half as much to do as they should have . Wade cast her mind back through the dozens upon dozens of dimensions she'd been on since she and the others got lost in this crazy multi-verse. Always so close to their home, yet always so very far away. From the version of earth on which the polar ice caps had melted and created a race of mer-people to the version where humans had evolved into telepathic god-like beings with no genuine feeling, she had felt lost, frightened. Now, on this world where she and Quinn had admitted their feelings for one another, only to see that version of Wade die, she was feeling passion like she'd never imagined. Who knew that, within the body of the man who constantly took her for granted, there lay a heart which longed so achingly for her touch. She now gave that touch. She touched Quinn57, as she thought of him to avoid confusion. She ran her fingers through his hair, over his chest. She reached for his manhood and found it alert. Growing up, The Six-Million Dollar Man was my absolute favorite. Now, I can pretend that I am Steve Austin, a man barely alive. I awoke to find myself chained in Sasquatch's lair. How had I come here? What day was it? Where was the furry beast? And most importantly, what had he done with Jaimie? More than once had I tangled with this meta-terrestrial missing link. I knew what the monster was capable of. Or at least, what he was capable of now that he'd been driven to these extremes by the unfeeling businessmen who'd driven him from this adopted habitat. I flexed my bionic muscles, testing the strength of the chains that bound me. I found them solid. I looked around the room with my enhanced Bionovision, evaluating the place for weaknesses I might exploit. I found none. Just then, I heard the unmistakeable shuffle of giant feet dragging themselves down the hallway. Bigfoot was coming. One of the greatest aspects of FANature is that you aren't restricted to characters from just one universe. You can bring in characters from comics, from videogames, from movies. You can have them interact. Such was my mission when I wrote this last story, about what might happen if Captain Kirk found himself suddenly face to face with New York's favorite web-slinger. Kirk looked around, desperately trying to get his bearings. From the architecture and the pollution level, he guessed himself to be in the early 21st century. From the landmarks, he supposed he must be in New York, some time before The Vortex changed the city forever. Only moments before, he'd been on the bridge of the Romulan cruiser, a phaser pointed at his heart. Now he had to figure out not only how to save the lives of the 437 crewmen for whom he was responsible, but also what had caused this rip in the space-time continuum in the first place. As he was preparing to look for a way off of this roof, he saw a figure in Red and Blue swinging toward him. Was this friend or foe? How much could he interact with these locals without causing a collosal feedback in the timestream, possibly preventing his reality from ever happening? He did not know. The figure landed. "Ahoy there, chief," the figure said. Kirk noticed the mask now, as well as the fact that the man wore a black spider on his chest. "Who are you and what are you doing on this rooftop?" "My name is Kirk. But that's not important right now." "No, what's important is that I'm right in the middle of a battle with the Hobgoblin and I can't have civilians hanging out on the rooftops. Just then, an orange figure came roaring around the roof on a flying platform of some sort. Kirk figured this to be the Hobgoblin of which his new friend had spoken. He took out his phaser, cooly leveled it at the fiend's flying platform and stepped aside as the wreckage came tumbling out of the sky. "Nice shootin' Pard," said the red and blue-dressed guy. Kirk thought he rather like him.
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