Insane Ficlet Alert!
For the 'home' prompt in the Nekkid40 Challenge, the weirdest thing I've written so far today...
This is mostly Mari's fault. She knows why.
Title: Home Invasion
Author: Mrsevilpigeon
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Crack!fic
During his time as a journalist, Logan Cale has seen some strange things: secret government experiments, cross-species genetic manipulation, mind control, things that were hard to explain and even harder to prove. He thought that nothing could faze him at this point in his life, so he took it with considerable grace when half a dozen women showed up at his door with an outrageous story.
At first glance, these women didn’t have much in common. Some were young and some were old. Some of them were American while others came from Europe or Asia. They spoke different languages and had varied careers. Some were married with children and some still lived at home with their parents. On the surface, they were very different.
But these women had things in common. They were all intelligent and creative. Each woman understood punctuation rules with remarkable clarity, and they were firm believers in constructive criticism and appropriate feedback. Inexplicably, they also knew about Logan’s life-down to the smallest detail. They called themselves ‘fangirls’.
They were all from another time.
One of the women, a pretty brunette with a fetish for apples, had the power of destroying functioning technology with her mind. (Logan would never have bought it if he hadn’t seen similar phenomena coming out of Manticore’s laboratories.) These women had all been using Instant Messenger together back in 2008, before the Microsoft company had gone belly-up. They had been discussing him of all things, although Logan still wasn’t sure how that was possible. Apparently their computers heated up to dangerous temperatures. The extreme heat, combined with the apple lover’s strange psychic ability, and the loss of one girl’s ‘e’ button had caused a time and fiction warp, catching them all into the loop and hurling them into Seattle, 2020, where they made their way straight to his front door.
At first it had been a pleasant experience. They were like his personal harem, hanging on his every word and granting his wishes before he could even express them. They understood Logan like no one ever had before, and they were all pretty cute too, so he was pleased to have them around.
Then strange things began happening.
Piece by piece, articles of his clothing began to go missing. A pair of pants here, a sweater there, his closet was barer and barer every time he opened it. And there were mishaps. Things spilling all over him, making have too him change his shirt two or three times a day. Clothing ripped all over the place, forcing him to undress. He was constantly caught out in the rain; no matter the weather when he left the house, he always returned soaking wet and in need of a dry shirt.
And the fangirls always seemed to be at the heart of the problem. The apple lover, a lovely German lass, was terribly clumsy and whenever she tripped and fell, she clutched at his shirt and ripped it off every time. The sweet southern yoga enthusiast with the name that constantly eluded him would spatter him with stir-fry oil and salad dressing, always something flammable that needed to be removed immediately. The young Malaysian girl with the devilish smile would back him against the wall or into a corner, and the next thing he knew, his pants would be gone, leaving him standing there and wondering where they went. And the buxom Portlander with the brassy hair (possibly the most perverted of the bunch) managed to cover him in chocolate syrup and whipped cream every time she walked into the room.
Logan soon ran out of shirts altogether.
Food constantly landed on him. He was like a human buffet table. The fangirls would lecture him about wasting food and eat it right off his bare chest. Fondue night was an ordeal.
Violent gangsters would tear the clothes away from Logan’s body, sometimes twice a day.
The pants were gone by now too.
He would get left out in the freezing wind and snow, chilled to the bone, and the fangirls would have to warm him up with their body heat. After this happened three days in a row, Logan began to grow suspicious.
He finally couldn’t take it anymore; he had to get away. His clothing was completely gone, and he was afraid his health and dignity would soon follow. The cupboards were empty, and he was terrified of what the fangirls would bring home from their next trip to the market. There had been too much talk about wrapping him in marzipan for him to remain calm. Logan Cale finally snapped, running naked down the streets of Seattle while the fangirls watched him with binoculars and smiled.
As Logan raced away amid the admiring glancing of the female population, he knew he would never be able to go home again. Ever.