Skeletor
So, last night, in twenty minutes or so, with inspiration from a picture of a kid jumping into a swimming pool wearing a pair of cargo pants, I wrote this little thing about a kid and his obsession with Skeletor. This morning, I corrected typographical and spelling errors, and changed a couple of sentences which had tense problems. But, otherwise, this is what pops out of my head given twenty minutes, a photograph of a kid, and a blank computer screen. Enjoy.
Skeletor
For his fourteenth birthday all Scott wanted was a Skeletor action figure. He'd been looking at it in the store for months, but didn't have the money to get it. A month before his birthday he started nagging his mom, his dad, his brothers, and anyone else he could think of about how much he wanted this toy. Everyone thought he was nuts.
For one thing, his dad didn't like the idea of his son playing with dolls. For another thing, Masters of the Universe hadn't been on tv for years. Scott wasn't even old enough to have seen it during it's original run. But, he'd seen the action figure sitting on the bottom shelf at the comic book store and he knew he had to have it.
At night, he dreamed about it. His dreams were long, plot-driven affairs that he thought he remembered right when he woke up, but when he tried telling himself the plot it drifted out of his memory. He often woke up at night, dreams of Skeletor dissipating, with a hard-on. He'd stroke himself and think of that blue, muscled body with the skull head. How tall would Skeletor be? Surely he would tower over Scott. And Scott would kneel before him as Skeletor slowly reached down to pull aside his purple loincloth, grinning his death's head grin. Scott never lasted long.
Scott persisted in his requests for the Skeletor action figure for his birthday. Eventually, against his father's wishes, his mother went to the comic shop and bought the toy. She didn't understand why her son would want such a thing; but she didn't see any harm in it. While she was there she bought a couple of good, old fashioned baseball cards to appease her husband.
Scott's brothers figured they had a better idea. Rather than buy Scott the action figure, they thought they could have some fun by having Skeletor actually come to Scott's birthday party. They went to the costume shop with a guy they knew from the football team and rented a Skeletor costume. The costume was complete with padded muscles, a skull head mask, and a hood. They arranged for their friend to show up at Scott's birthday party and tease him.
Finally Scott's birthday arrived. His mother baked a cake but, out of respect for his age, did not decorate the back yard for the event. Ten or eleven boys, friends of Scott's, came to the house. There were console games to play, and a swimming pool in the back yard.
About an hour into the party, most of the boys were around the pool. Some were swimming, but the majority were eating cake. That's when the false Skeletor made his appearance. He came right into the yard and walked straight up to Scott. Scott didn't know what to do.
One of his brothers called out, "Hey, Scott! Look who's here. It's your hero, Skeletor."
"Yeah," his other brother called, "Since you love him so much, why don't you kiss him?"
Scott was turning very red, and he looked like he was about to cry. One of his friends walked up to the false Skeletor and told him to leave Scott alone.
"Yeah," another friend said as he moved forward, "Leave him alone. What're you trying to do, huh?" and he gave the false Skeletor a big shove. The costumed football player stumbled backwards, tripped on a deck chair, and fell right into the swimming pool.
Scott saw the whole thing in slow motion. Skeletor flailed a bit, and then the padded suit started to soak up water and he sank to the bottom of the pool. "Nooooo!" Scott cried and he ripped off his shirt and dove headlong into the pool.
The football player was flailing desperately at the bottom. In a panic, he was trying to get the skull mask off and he was tangled in the hood. Scott swam to him and tried to grab hold of him, but the football player could not see him and struck out instinctively with his fist. Scott was cold-cocked and floated to the surface.
By now, people at the side of the pool were realizing that this was not just fooling around. One of Scott's brothers hauled his unconscious body out of the water while his other brother dove in and pulled the football player to safety. Once out of the water, the older boy coughed up water for several long minutes and then stripped out of the nearly deadly Skeletor costume. He yelled a few choice words at the kid who pushed him before Scott's brother drug him into the house and sent him home.
When Scott came to, he looked wildly around him and then desperately into the pool. "Oh my god! Skeletor's gone! Skeletor drowned! I didn't save him and he drowned! Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god!"
His brothers tried to tell him it was just their friend in a costume. His parents tried to calm him. But, something had snapped in Scott's head when he watched Skeletor, arms windmilling, fall backwards into the pool. Seeing him, helpless and struggling at the bottom of the pool, had been too much. He started muttering about how he'd killed Skeletor and he didn't stop. He didn't stop that night, and he didn't stop the next morning at the doctor's office, and he still hadn't stopped 10 years later when he died of the flu in a clean ward in a state-run institute for the insane.
Skeletor
For his fourteenth birthday all Scott wanted was a Skeletor action figure. He'd been looking at it in the store for months, but didn't have the money to get it. A month before his birthday he started nagging his mom, his dad, his brothers, and anyone else he could think of about how much he wanted this toy. Everyone thought he was nuts.
For one thing, his dad didn't like the idea of his son playing with dolls. For another thing, Masters of the Universe hadn't been on tv for years. Scott wasn't even old enough to have seen it during it's original run. But, he'd seen the action figure sitting on the bottom shelf at the comic book store and he knew he had to have it.
At night, he dreamed about it. His dreams were long, plot-driven affairs that he thought he remembered right when he woke up, but when he tried telling himself the plot it drifted out of his memory. He often woke up at night, dreams of Skeletor dissipating, with a hard-on. He'd stroke himself and think of that blue, muscled body with the skull head. How tall would Skeletor be? Surely he would tower over Scott. And Scott would kneel before him as Skeletor slowly reached down to pull aside his purple loincloth, grinning his death's head grin. Scott never lasted long.
Scott persisted in his requests for the Skeletor action figure for his birthday. Eventually, against his father's wishes, his mother went to the comic shop and bought the toy. She didn't understand why her son would want such a thing; but she didn't see any harm in it. While she was there she bought a couple of good, old fashioned baseball cards to appease her husband.
Scott's brothers figured they had a better idea. Rather than buy Scott the action figure, they thought they could have some fun by having Skeletor actually come to Scott's birthday party. They went to the costume shop with a guy they knew from the football team and rented a Skeletor costume. The costume was complete with padded muscles, a skull head mask, and a hood. They arranged for their friend to show up at Scott's birthday party and tease him.
Finally Scott's birthday arrived. His mother baked a cake but, out of respect for his age, did not decorate the back yard for the event. Ten or eleven boys, friends of Scott's, came to the house. There were console games to play, and a swimming pool in the back yard.
About an hour into the party, most of the boys were around the pool. Some were swimming, but the majority were eating cake. That's when the false Skeletor made his appearance. He came right into the yard and walked straight up to Scott. Scott didn't know what to do.
One of his brothers called out, "Hey, Scott! Look who's here. It's your hero, Skeletor."
"Yeah," his other brother called, "Since you love him so much, why don't you kiss him?"
Scott was turning very red, and he looked like he was about to cry. One of his friends walked up to the false Skeletor and told him to leave Scott alone.
"Yeah," another friend said as he moved forward, "Leave him alone. What're you trying to do, huh?" and he gave the false Skeletor a big shove. The costumed football player stumbled backwards, tripped on a deck chair, and fell right into the swimming pool.
Scott saw the whole thing in slow motion. Skeletor flailed a bit, and then the padded suit started to soak up water and he sank to the bottom of the pool. "Nooooo!" Scott cried and he ripped off his shirt and dove headlong into the pool.
The football player was flailing desperately at the bottom. In a panic, he was trying to get the skull mask off and he was tangled in the hood. Scott swam to him and tried to grab hold of him, but the football player could not see him and struck out instinctively with his fist. Scott was cold-cocked and floated to the surface.
By now, people at the side of the pool were realizing that this was not just fooling around. One of Scott's brothers hauled his unconscious body out of the water while his other brother dove in and pulled the football player to safety. Once out of the water, the older boy coughed up water for several long minutes and then stripped out of the nearly deadly Skeletor costume. He yelled a few choice words at the kid who pushed him before Scott's brother drug him into the house and sent him home.
When Scott came to, he looked wildly around him and then desperately into the pool. "Oh my god! Skeletor's gone! Skeletor drowned! I didn't save him and he drowned! Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god!"
His brothers tried to tell him it was just their friend in a costume. His parents tried to calm him. But, something had snapped in Scott's head when he watched Skeletor, arms windmilling, fall backwards into the pool. Seeing him, helpless and struggling at the bottom of the pool, had been too much. He started muttering about how he'd killed Skeletor and he didn't stop. He didn't stop that night, and he didn't stop the next morning at the doctor's office, and he still hadn't stopped 10 years later when he died of the flu in a clean ward in a state-run institute for the insane.