The clock radio blasted a noise that sounded like a submarine Klaxon. Troy wanted to stand up and yell - Dive, Dive, Dive! But Nick, his lover, still lay sleeping. They celebrated their second anniversary last night and not only did the Tequila Sunrises flow, something called a Prancing Fairy concocted of wine, bourbon and malt whiskey left a minty aftertaste when he puked it all over the bar. Troy grimaced with his eyes wide open as he remembered -- everything.
The clock radio blared again. This time, like a foghorn on crack -- Fa-Wooooooo-Pa! Fa-Wooooooo-Pa! Nick woke and smacked the radio. His big guns wrapped around Troy's torso and pulled him tight. Troy snuggled into Nick's furry chest. Their bodies touched, trading heat.
"I dreamed about you lover-boy. You were wrecked last night..." Nick's voice trailed off as he nibbled Troy's ear. Troy felt his already tumescent man-pole stiffen against Nick's hard abs.
"Christ was I drunk last night. I can't remember a damn thing."
"Don't you remember that gay boy in leather jumping out of a cheesecake?" Nick knew the memory game, too.
Something clattered outside. Ka-pa-ka! Troy winced at the noise and held Nick tighter.
His electric conscience prodded him again: Ba-wooop-Wa! Ba-wooop-Wa! Troy rubbed at his temple as the whole room pitched and yawed.
A tinny, mechanical voice from the corner of the room interrupted the if-onlys running through his mind. "Captain Troy, to the bridge. Under attack. Depth charges."
Finally it all came back to him.
"You'd better go," Nick said, reaching for his uniform.
Probably just another frigging exercise. Jesus. He didn't join the navy for this bullshit.
Opening: Dave F......Continuation: Anonymous
25 comments:
Unchosen Continuation:
"Mister Tit Rings or Mister Prince Albert?" Troy mumbled. His fingers kneaded Nick's firm glutes.
"They were doorknockers," Nick said. He kissed Troy's neck.
"Doorknockers? I wouldn't be caught dead at Nerd-Man's house with his testicle doorknockers! That guy jerks off standing on his head. We weren't there. We were at Blast-Toids drinking queer cocktails."
"I thought you couldn't remember."
"Bastard!" Troy laughed and threw the sheets off their bodies. He stretched his arms and legs, pushing Nick almost off the bed. His manhood lay thick on his stomach with his testicles bunched high and tight like big furry goose eggs. Nick's right hand landed like a vise on Troy's delicates and squeezed just tight enough to cause discomfort but not pain.
"Not the boys! Not the boys!" Troy grabbed Hick's hand, trying to pry it off.
"Not if you can't remember our anniversary dinner," Nick laughed. Troy curled up on the bed and pulled Nick with him. Nick slipped his hand under Troy's legs and picked his hips off the mattress. He kissed Troy's ball sack and lifted him higher. He buried his face between Troy's buns and tasted the funky sweetness of his love canal. Troy moaned in pleasure as they made passionate love until the fragrances of coffee brewing and bacon frying signaled that their manservant Wilfred Filby had arrived.
--Dave F.
Wow.
I'd never thought of my husband's legs as big guns before. And frankly, I'm not known at home for lacking in creativity.
Thanks for sending in this opening, Dave. It was fun to read, and I'm not kidding.
Is there more? Just checking.
And hey, those anon people are on an amazing tear, is all I know.
Dive and the Navy. Yeah. My dad was in the Navy.
"X on crack," like "the X from hell" are expressions that cause me to engage in sudden, violent reverse peristalsis.
Man-pole? Do gay folk really talk like that?
Comparing the alarm to both a Klaxon and a foghorn was a bit OTT I thought, and I expected the continuation to go with something like "and the clock radio blared yet again, this time like Porky Pig on crystal meth with a bullhorn", and then go on with the sound effects. The continuation was great, and pegged the sound effects as expected.
Robin, sugar, I think "big guns" refers to the arms.
I assume this was written for fun. It's light a breezy and -- I alsmo assume -- deliberately over the top.
Following on from S&M's comment, there were a couple of WTF moments where it felt a lot like parody -- I wondered at one point if it was actually written by a woman!
"Tumescent man-pole." Really?
And I wondered why, given there obvious lifestyle, Nick felt it necessary to mention that the cheesecake guy was gay. Wouldn't that be obvious to both of them, and/or irrelevant?
Nick tells Troy that Troy was drunk last night; then Troy tells
Nick that Troy was drunk last night. Maybe that dialogue could be trimmed?
Oh shit, S&M...
No wonder I never heard of legs being called big guns. And no wonder my husband just laughed a little while ago like he'd finally lost his last, last marble and went strolling into the next room. Where I heard him laughing more. For a while off and on.
Frankly, in a British guy, this is a bit disconcerting. I'm a lot more comfortable with the slightly upturned nose, knowing look in the eye and derisive almost-under-the- breath comment reaction. And the little shit-eating grin. That I can do something with.
Dave, this WAS done as a kind of over-the-top deal, right?
Sorry, Dave. Too much telling, I think, in this (such as unnecessarily interjecting "his lover" in there) and in the contin. Sounds overly much like a straight guy going for the *shock* of a gay pairing. Yawn. Not a fag hag, but I've hung with my share of gay boys, and this ain't them.
And much as you will resist :o), "They celebrated" really needs a "had" in there.
Got a market in mind for this?
Yup, big guns are well-muscled arms. I can say about any well-built man: "Nice set of guns," and not worry about being beat up (or something like that).
There is more to this. I put the rest of this chapter as a continuation. There's a dead body in the trunk of their car that they didn't put there. The policeman in charge of the investigation is going to have a strange time investigating that murder.
BTW - this started out as "Inspector Weannous of the Galactic Patrol" back on December 2nd with EE's writing exercise. It is parody.
"Gay Boys in Black Leather" was a semi-notorious photo magazine years ago. It lived up to its title in campy style.
I suspect "Man-Pole" like "foghorn on crack" is a cliche.
As for the game that Troy and Nick are playing, wow, this is not easy to explain. Back in ancient times, one might even say - Once Upon a Gay TIme When Closets held more than clothing, closeted gay men would surreptitiously visit certain shady bars and sit in smoke-filled environments with other men, get smashingly drunk - so drunk in fact, they would never remember what they did. And by not remembering, they could deny that they were ever at a "gay" bar or gay bath or that rest area on highway 69. They couldn't remember anything! Alcoholic blackout. That way, They never remembered that they participated in cheap, soul-destroying, anonymous sexual acts with multiple partners (This could get way out of hand. Let's keep this discussion dignified).
The next day they would greet their wives, coworkers or anyone else from the night before that they might "bump" into with with the greeting:
"Christ was I drunk last night. I can't remember a GD thing." And that, of course, let them deny all knowledge of any action or any trace of homosexuality. It what they said to deny what they did. Self-hate is a nasty mistress or master.
That's all changed. Now, no man needs to get drunk to deny their actions (sorry, I couldn't resist the cheap shot). And further - today, no sensible man acts this way, not with HIV risk. So that's the game Nick and Troy are playing.
I had not trouble with using the term "gay" for cheesecake guy. The term is used for both sexual orientation as well as certain personality traits. I assume they were using the term in the latter. The issue I think to work on Dave is that the language seems inconsistent. On the one hand, we have rather other worldly similes and then, on the other hand, we have very contemporary slang about crack and the like. Of course, I have no handle on the world, but they don't seem to work together.
Robin - I'm glad someone got a laugh from this.
Phoenix - My boyfriends roll their eyeballs and giggle at this stuff. A "HAD" you say - oh my stars and garters!
Paca - Consistency. You've got to understand that these wild satires write themselves in bursts and fits of manic lunacy. I cleaned it up a bit. A week from today I'll cringe and revise it. A month from now, I'll revise again and polish it. It might surface as a real story in a year.
Paca - Beware other-worldy similes vs contemporary slang is a sophisticated comment that I have put at the top of the text. what you want me to do is to set the time period and stick to it. thanks.
BTW - I thought it was terribly funny that the stripper jumped out of a cheesecake and not just a cake. It's a little Susie Creamcheese shtick ala Frank Zappa. Or is that too much of an "in" joke?
I liked the descriptiveness of this, but the second mention of clock sounds bugged me.
"Big guns" made me stop and pause (legs or arms?) and I loved the line "their bodies touched, trading heat."
This is very sensual yet also locker-roomy.
Writ - I thought about having Nick break the clock but that seemed too over the top. I did the two awakenings because Nick and Troy deliberately look and act similar - tall, athletic, well muscled, buzzcuts, goatees - they embody stereotypes. They follow fads. They do everything together.
And then Inspector Weannous enters their lives and accuses them of murder.
At first I thought this was tongue-in-cheek, but when I read Dave's own continuation I realised it was tongue-pretty-much-everywhere.
It's unfinished, but I reckon a sperm whale ramming the boat hard in the poop would make a good climax.
Where we seem to be heading, from what I can gather, is a debate about 'had'. Or has there been one of those already?
"His manhood lay thick on his stomach with his testicles bunched high and tight like big furry goose eggs."
How big are goose eggs? Quail eggs are very, very tiny. They sell them here in the dairy section.
Goose egg photo:
http://artswork.asu.edu/cec/CEC_big/2-Hand-with-goose-egg.jpg
Wow. Fur those up, and they'd be formidable. And heavy.
I am still of the opinion that sentences with verb constructions like "had taken" and "They had celebrated" and "He'd fought" and "He'd want to" represent backstory and slow down a narrative. The word speaks of stasis, of inertia, of indolence, lethargy even. I don't like to use the form with "had." I think most writers can create more action-oriented words.
We already had that discussion...
Dave, just because you don't like the word "had" in a sentence doesn't mean it doesn't belong in a sentence. Ripping every "had" out or failing to put them in doesn't make for more immediate writing. The word "had" by itself is not what slows a story down. It's the construct and the thought that goes with it.
In this case, you open with the guys in the morning in past tense, then slip in backstory about what happened in the further-back past. That change in temporal past requires a verb construct that indicates this. Keeping everything in simple past tense doesn't accomplish this. If you want to avoid the "slow down," you could start the story the night before, then give us some paragraph space and bring the story forward to the morning. You have slowing-the-story-down backstory there whether you use the word "had" or not. The word "had" simply clues the reader in more quickly to the fact that you're taking us back in time.
Injecting the backstory of the previous night is one reason I thought there was too much telling going on.
While you and Buffy had the discussion, it appears to need to be had again. ;o)
Love it, Dave. Yeah it's a bit OTT, but the campiness comes across easily.
One would think that, in this day and age, the young men are playing it smart. But the young men (and many older ones) are playing with meth and not smart at all. *sigh*
The invincibility factor strikes again.
I need to know how you all HAD the wherewithal to either italicize or bold your words.
I'm getting tired of putting quotation marks around phrases or words. Make me feel like Dr. Evil doing his "laser" talk.
And capitalizing is my only other choice. Woo-hoo.
Help, please.
Italicizing: Put < i > in front of the word(s), and behind the word(s) put < /i >.
Except close those gaps.
Bold: Same thing, replace i with b.
Thanks. I'll give these a try.
Phoenix - I only explained the "had" discussion because Whirlochre made a comment about it. I added the word "had" in my text after you made the comment. Also, I've deleted "his lover," with more changes planned.
Sarah - I follow Sergeant Esterhaus’s warning, "let’s be careful out there," (Hill Street Blues)
This is a contribution to the 'romantic' theme for this week, yes?
Yes, romance week.
It's kinda romantic satire.
Post a Comment