The New Girl
So I just joined, and I was wondering if it would be unseemly to crosspost some of my backlog of fanfiction from sausagefestival where I have been for many a month.
If that would be rude then I won't ... but hey, I'll do anything to get more mileage without actually writing anything new.
Love,
Lofty
PS
Because I think at least one would be acceptable ...
PG
No warnings, just fluff
Dethklok stumbles upon slash one evening
Chapter 1
“Hey guys!” shouted Nathan from the hot tub, where he was working at his floating laptop. “Somebody wrote a story about us”
“You means likes de news stories?” yawned Skwisgaar. He sat in his armchair, shredding away absent mindedly.
“Ooh is it Peoples Mazgamines?” cried Toki. He gave up his round of DDR to crouch behind Nathan eagerly.
“Oh wow.” Nathan continued to scroll through page after page of neatly arranged links. “Lots of people wrote stories about us.”
“Dat doesn’ts looks like Peoples.”
“Isch it a reputable journal of opinion?” demanded Murderface.
“No, guys, not reporters … Like … fiction … short stories by fans.”
Skwisgaar’s interest was piqued, and he joined Nathan and Toki. He pointed at one of the colorful warnings which adorned the page.
“Whats is ‘Slash’?”
“I dunno … But it sounds pretty brutal.” To Nathan his reasoning was flawless, so he clicked a random link.
He began to read. Neither Toki nor Skwisgaar could read English well enough to follow the story, but peering over Nathan’s big shoulders they could recognize their names and a few common words.
After several minutes of silence, Murderface’s laziness was finally conquered by his curiosity, and he tromped across the room. He had barely read the title, though, when Nathan’s bellow rent the air.
“WHAT!?”
TBC
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INTERMISSION
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Chapter 2
Ofdensen awoke to four angry members of Dethklok banging on his door at about two a.m. He abandoned his warm bed, fumbled his glasses into place and tossed on his nearby robe. He hoped this wouldn’t take long.
He opened the door to the well lit hall and blinked up at the righteously indignant Nathan Explosion.
“What is it now, guys?”
“EVERYONE THINKS WE’RE GAY!”
Charles sighed.
“Who’s everyone?”
Skwisgaar, Nathan’s self-appointed deputy, shoved the open laptop at their manager.
Charles scanned the page on the browser. He only just stopped himself from laughing out loud, which could too easily be interpreted as offensive.
“First off, this isn’t ‘everyone’. The authors of these stories are what we call ‘fangirls’, and they’re just one of many small demographics. And secondly, they don’t think you’re gay … ”
“Have you read any!” Murderface interjected.
“As a matter of fact I have, and trust me, they don’t think you’re gay. You see they want you, and they don’t want any other girl to have you, so this is how they can fantasize about you best. These are generally straight women who want to jump your bones, and they tend to be loyal fans with disposable income. And thirdly if we launch a response to this, we’ll get a lot of negative press.”
The band stood and processed this. Charles tapped his bare foot.
Finally quieted, if not fully appeased, Nathan asked,
“And have you seen Pickles. We can’t find him anywhere.” Doubtless he wanted to get the fifth band member’s opinion before raising the subject again with Charles.
“Well where have you looked?”
“Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh …”
“Maybe you should try looking for him, Nathan.”
The frontman nodded and followed the others back down the hall.
With a weary sigh, Charles tossed his robe back on the chair and folded his glasses back on the nightstand.
“What’d they want?” inquired a pile of blankets with mussed red dreadlocks.
Charles crawled under the covers and snuggled up for warmth.
“I had to give them the fanfiction talk.”
“I was wonderin’ how lahng it was gonna take ‘em,” the pile of blankets chuckled.
“Remember the night I gave you the fanfiction talk?” Charles smiled softly.
With his own fond smile, Pickles replied cheekily.
“As I recall you gave it to me several times that night.”
The end.