Fanfic

AKA: The Pen is Mightier Than the Sword

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"What are you doing?"

"You won't fucking believe this, take a look."

"What is it?"

"A website I just found. `Lez's, Lasses and Liberty Ave. A romp through the passion pits of Pittsburgh.'"

"I told you not to take that shit Anita tried to hand out last night."

"No. No shit, you have to see this. You're on it."

"The fuck I am."

"'Brian Kinney Defanged. AKA, Super Sex Stud Tamed By Toothy Twink.'"

"What?"

"It looks like some kind of story, written by someone named Kael."

"Isn't that seaweed?"

"That's kale."

"Whatever."

"Shit—they have me topping you and handcuffing you to the shower door."

"Right, like that will ever happen…what's the next one? `Justin's Justice.'"

"Fuck me, this is great…what the…? In a meat locker? Frozen meat ball puns for like six pages? Who reads this shit?"

"Obviously people with a whole lot less going on in their lives than would be considered healthy by the rest of the world…. Wait, wait, wait…go back to that last thing."

"This one?"

"No, not Pittsburgh Poon Pouchers Posse, the next one…Tricky Dick's Dickless Trick's. Damn, I didn't know there were that many eunuch's in the world."

"It's got to be like computer generated. I mean—shit, look at that."

"Oh, God. That's like…Jesus."

"I'm going to have nightmares from that last page alone."

"Wait, wait, get back here. I found another story. I think you're the main character—I mean we're the main characters. Oh—this is, Jesus Christ, how do they come up with this. This is…"

"…No shit…."

"We both decide to have sex change operations and join Dykes on Bikes with …Oh, my God, with Smelly Melly and Leda and cruise Route 66 forever."

"Now I'm scared."

"With double D tits."

"How do they sleep on their stomachs?"

"How do they stand up straight?"

"Not `they'. `We'. Brian…they have pictures of us after the change…No way. I'd never wear that color. Who the fuck dressed us? Emmett?"

"Wait…am I wearing maternity clothes? I'm going to sue."

"Empire is really not the waistline for you. With your hips you should stay with fitted."

"Why is it that in every frigging story we end up on horses riding off into the sunset, holding hands?"

"Now that you mention it, every frigging last page is the same…horses, sunset, hands…look at this. Here's another, and here's another one. They cut and pasted the last page. Every story ends the same fucking way."

"Now that's just fucking stupid. What the fuck's wrong with these idiots? They can't think for themselves?"

"Fucking pod people."

"I'm allergic to horses."

"Who the fuck thinks life always has a happy fucking ending?"

"Like no one ever breaks up? Excuse me, hello?"

"Assholes."

"Pod people."

"Hey, check this—how come we're the only fucking characters in these things? Don't we have any friends in this?…Shit remember that time that time I went with Ethan for a couple of months?"

"Oh right…I forgot all about that."

"Bite me, Brian. And you never hang out with Michael or your old boyfriends?"

"I don't do boyfriends."

"Yeah, yeah, tell it to the judge."

"So—if one of these people who have no lives decide to channel ours and, say, wanted to write a story—hopefully using complete sentences and proper grammar—about, I don't know, me and Ted having a torrid affair—where would it be? Here?"

"No, you didn't read the disclaimer. `All other pairings will be filed in Hell'."

"Sounds fair to me."

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