All is well on the Spotted Satellite until the Bad Fic Finder goes haywire and comes back with an original story for the MiSTers to tear apart. But this isn’t just any story. The MiSTers have encountered it before and can’t remember anything about it. Will they survive this re-MiSTing or have they simply lost their touch?
Want to know more about MiSTing? Read Star’s Guide to MiSTing and educate yourself.
I don’t own any copyrighted characters, series or songs. Which should be obvious, because I didn’t copyright them. I didn’t write this fic. My intellectual property in this MiST is the witty remarks, my MiSTers, and the mad. My characters are used only with my permission.
This MiSTing is NOT a personal attack on the author. It’s an attack on their terrible writing. This is not meant to be even slightly constructive, instead it is meant solely for the amusement of others.
It’s important to learn it laugh at ourselves. Don’t take life too seriously.
Melanie Bryce – The real way to a man’s heart is through his stomach cavity.
Dominick Dante – Uhhh, I came with Mel.
Gwenavere Donovan – Walk softly and carry a palm pilot.
Jarred Zion – Strangers are just friends that you haven’t met!
Deangelo Desiderio – Grumpy is the only one of the seven dwarfs I understand.
Tempest Lucki – I’m not a nymphomaniac, I’m a sex addict. There’s a difference.
Kalinda Beckham – Yes, that’s right, I’m the only remotely normal person here.
(M and the MiSTers are seated in the conference room all in the middle of a heated game of Uno. Rosie is sitting on M’s lap staring intently at her cards. Everyone glances at the stack as Gwen lays down a draw two. Everyone’s gaze turns to Dominick. He glances around the table then lays down another draw two.)
(Jarred lays down a draw four.)
(Everyone turns to Tempest who is staring at her cards in utter confusion.)
Tempest: Why are we talking about chess things? We’re playing Uno. You should say something in Spanish.
Deangelo: Juegue su tarjeta [Play your card].
Tempest: Whatever. Checkmate mate.
(Tempest lays down another draw two.)
Kalinda: Damn it… (She shuffles through her cards.) Double damn it…
Jarred: (Nudging Kalinda.) You shouldn’t swear in front of Rosie.
Kalinda: Yeah, yeah. (She begins to draw cards.)
(Suddenly there is a loud explosion and the song “Do You Love” by Natalie Imbruglia starts playing. The MiSTers look up.)
Melanie: What the hell was that?
M: I think it’s the Bad Fic Finder.
Dominick: (Casually.) I thought that was broken.
M: Yes, it mysteriously got peanut butter jammed into the motherboard. I can’t imagine how it go in there. Can you, Dominick?
Dominick: Peanut butter? No idea.
Gwen: Haven’t the slightest myself. Very strange case.
M: (Getting up from the table.) I’m going to go check on it. Can I trust you all not to look at my cards?
Jarred: (^-^) You can trust me! HFB promise!
Tempest: Me too. Cheating is so unsexy.
Melanie: Hey I’ll come with you. That way you can be 100 percent sure that I’m not cheating.
Dominick: Hey, right. Me too. Cause I wouldn’t cheat at cards. That’s just wrong.
Deangelo: You have my word as a Spaniard, M.
Tempest: And Kalinda is too boring to cheat, so you’re safe!
M: Thanks, Temp. (M stands and stretches, setting Rosie on her chair.) Come on then Mel and Dommie, let’s go check out the racket.
(M, Melanie and Dominick leave the conference room and walk down the hallway to the computer room. They enter and discover the Bad Fic Finder choking and sputtering. M raises an eyebrow at it then looks at the last print out it was working on.)
Melanie: What’s up?
M: It found a bad story alright.
Dominick: A bad fic?
M: No, a short story. A really, really bad one. There’s a back story attached to this actually.
Melanie: Oh no. Are we going to have to MiST it?
M: Yes, yes I believe we will. (She collects the print outs then heads for the door.) Come along, my little ones, it’s story time.
Melanie: (Glancing at Dominick.) Story time with M. Yikes.
(M, Melanie and Dominick reenter the conference room to find Rosie tearing through a stack of cards while Kalinda attempts to hold her back.)
Kalinda: Knock it off, you crazed leopardita!
Rosie: (>^_^<) Mew! M: Rosie! Behave yourself!
(Rosie stops pawing at the cards and sits on the table, hanging her little spotted head.)
Tempest: Ha, look at that, Leoparditas are trainable!
M: Yeah, ha ha. Anyway, we have a story to MiST.
Melanie: But wait, there’s more.
Gwen: There is?
Tempest: Like how much more?
M: Well, you’ve already MiSTed it.
Gwen: We did? Why are we going to MiST it again then?
M: Because you technically haven’t MiSTed it yet.
Jarred: Okay, are we getting into freaky déjà vu stuff now?
M: You see, I originally encountered this story when I was in high school and the author sent it to me to edit for him.
Dominick: Why did he do that?
M: This is back when we were writing for the Pit of Voles and were highly respected in the MiSTing community. Suffice it to say, he valued my opinion. So I gave him some feedback and he did rewrites of the story. Unfortunately the story was so horrible and the writing was so bad that no matter how many rewrites he did it still sucked. So I filed it away in the back of my computer folders.
Jarred: Ooooh. Then the Bad Fic Finder located it on accident and it blew up because it was so bad.
M: Basically. But wait, there’s more.
M: Like I said, we already MiSTed it.
Deangelo: How does this work exactly? I am confused.
M: There is a lost MiST. I still have it… somewhere… but there is a MiST we did with a… guest MiSTer. For some reason all of you remember the host segment, but not the actual MiST.
(All of the MiSTers exchange glances as realization sets in.)
Deangelo: How could we forget the host segment? Arrogant cretin like him. I’ve tried to block it out, but I still remember.
Tempest: Yeah, yeah D. We know you didn’t like him.
Deangelo: Did you?
Tempest: I — Hmm… good point…
M: Anyway, this is the final copy of what the author posted on FF.N. (M holds up the read out from the bad fic finder.) Together we shall MiST it.
Kalinda: But wait, what about our Uno game? We have to finish it.
M: When a bad story needs to be MiSTed it cannot wait.
Kalinda: Don’t try to sound all deep and meaningful, the fic has been waiting for five years. A few more minutes won’t kill it.
M: Okay, good point. Let’s finish our game. (M picks up her cards.) Kalinda had to draw so it’s my turn. Reverse blue, back to me, Uno, blue skip, I’m out. Okay, let’s go.
Kalinda: Damn. I def thought that would buy us more time.
Gwen: You “def” thought it would?
(All of the MiSTers assemble in the theatre and sit down in their regular seats. Tempest attempts to snuggle up to Deangelo, but then notices Gwen giving her a particularly skeptical look.)
M: Is everyone ready?!
All MiSTers: No!
M: Here we go!
>Under the Moon
Jarred: I suddenly want to sing a children’s song.
>By John Damen
>”This above all else, to thy own self be true”
Gwen: Is that… No, it can’t be.
M: (From the control room.) Yes, it is. It’s from Hamlet; Polonius’ advice to his son.
Gwen: He quotes Shakespeare?! How dare he drag my proud nation’s bard into his horrible fiction!
Tempest: Uh oh, now it’s personal!
>Jay Kennedy couldn’t sleep.
Melanie: Not with the sweaty hooker mouth breathing over his eyeballs.
>Not much new there. Special Forces training often left you tired enough to pass out before your head hit the pillow, or you were too tired to sleep.
Dominick: Wait, what?
Gwen: I can’t stand when the effects are total opposites. May cause downiness or insomnia. Well which one bloody is it?!
>It was on this night that Kennedy wasn’t the only one who couldn’t sleep. The cot next to him is where his friend and senior Corporal John Damn slept.
Deangelo: Sometimes they pushed their cots together and snuggled. All under the moon.
>But on this cool fall night, Damen wasn’t in his bunk. The full moon cast enough light to see around the barracks, but Damen was no where to be seen.
Dominick: Maybe he’s in the bathroom loading his gun.
>Kennedy kicked off the covers and looked to the door. It was ajar.
Jarred: Dum, dum, DUM!!!
>After lights out the door is shut and locked by the drill sergeant.
Tempest: But what if there’s a fire? Then they’d all be trapped in there.
Melanie: Come on now, Temp. They’d put the fire out by the sheer force of their manliness.
Tempest: (o_0) I didn’t know that manliness was that powerful.
>Kennedy knew Damen could pick a lock, which is why he came to the army after being sent to the Juvenile Detention Center.
Kalinda: I feel so much safer knowing that this person is securing my nation’s safety.
Melanie: Seriously, knowing how to pick a lock is impressive? John Damen, I am your GOD!!!!
>He had been caught picking the lock to his school just before graduation in the twelfth grade.
Tempest: He could explain the lock picking, but not the tutu.
>When Jay asked him about it, his reply was, “If I got another F they were going flunk me. I was just gonna change my grade to a C”.
Gwen: I think we all know what I want to say.
Gwen: Good, then I’m not going to say it.
>Kennedy didn’t comment on his friend’s stupidity.
Deangelo: I would have!
>Better to be held back than to be thrown in JDC.
Dominick: That’s debatable. We are talking about high school after all.
>He was always rubbing someone the wrong way, usually those who wore a
Jarred: You should always rub in the direction of the fur. (^_^)
Rosie: (From the control room.) Mew!
>The army was the perfect choice; they gave you a bed, food, showers, a roof over your head, and a weapon.
Melanie: Yeah great, let’s give the delinquent weapons. Wonderful idea.
Dominick: Come on, Mel. If the worst he knows how to do is pick a lock then I think we’re safe.
Kalinda: Although he forgot to mention the sexy uniforms. Any guy automatically looks better in a uniform.
>The drawback was that they yelled in your face if you did something wrong, and they yelled in your face if you did something right.
Gwen: You know, positive reinforcement always works better than negative reinforcement.
Dominick: Yes, but giving people cookies when they do a good job is not as badass as calling them a fucktard when they screw up.
>Well, Damen’s dad all but disowned him anyway, and his mom was faithful to her husband.
Gwen: “Well”?! Did the narrator just say “well”?!
Jarred: Well, I believe he did.
>It was this or the streets.
Melanie: And Damen didn’t think he would make a decent prostitute.
>He spent a year in an orphanage, enlisted when he was eighteen, made Corporal at twenty, and went to Special Forces Training at Fort Brag where he is still stationed at twenty five.
Deangelo: It was there that he took up ballet and refused to change out of his leotard.
>Kennedy sat up in his bunk, yawned and pulled on his fatigues, jungle boots and, walking to the door, slipped on a muscle shirt.
Dominick: Don’t they have standard issue PJs or something? You’d think that as micromanaging as the military is they would have some set outfit for them to sleep in.
Tempest: Only in boot camp.
Dominick: How do you know that?
Tempest: (^_-) I found out the hard way.
>He looked out the opening and saw his friend standing about twenty yards
Tempest: He was listening to his new Jonas Brother’s CD.
>He had on his fatigues, jungle boots, and a green T-shirt. Slipping quietly out the door, Kennedy made his way over to his friend.
Kalinda: OMG, are they going to talk about their feelings now?
M: (From the control room.) Wait for it…
>He knew Damen heard him. To say the man had good ears would be an understatement. To say he had ears like a Bat would not be adequate.
Gwen: Ears like a Bat? A randomly capitalized Bat?
>He would get pissed if someone blew a dog whistle.
Kalinda: He can hear dog whistles? Seriously.
>That in it’s self was rare, but he had seen Damen cringe and grab his ear, and looking around, there would be a man, with a dog a few feet away, and a dog whistle.
Dominick: You know what he’s starting to sound like?
Jarred: A Mary Sue?
M: (From the control room.) Wait for it…
>He father had done the same thing when he was Damen’s age. That wasn’t the only thing about him that was excellent,
Deangelo: Here we go! Mary Sue alert.
>he would average one bullseye for every magazine he shot from a pistol, then he would gripe because he didn’t get two.
Gwen: Does he have a pleasant singing voice too?
>And when he got three bullets in the center of the target, he would get pissed off because he should have gotten four.
Dominick: And everyone loves him?
>This was when he had first shot a SIG-Souer P220 .45 caliber on his seventeenth birthday. It was also the first time he shot anything bigger than a .380 Colt Mustang.
Jarred: How is this even vaguely relevant to the story?
Gwen: Just wait, there’s probably some more about how wonderful he is.
>His eyes were extraordinary, he was often called out to be a spotter.
Tempest: I wonder what he’s like in bed. (^_-) Ooo, nice thought.
>But this night the moon and the stars around it had his undivided attention. Walking up to stand next to him, Kennedy gazed toward the heavens.
Jarred: (Kennedy.) Hey, can I have a soul-searching moment too?
>”Penny for your thoughts?” Kennedy asked, after about five minuets of silence.
Damen let out a sigh before speaking in a dead flat tone; “Do you have a
Jarred: (Kennedy.) Yeah, and I’m not sharing.
>”I did. Cindy, remember? We broke up three days ago.”
Dominick: (Kennedy.) I cried for hours. Remember?
Kalinda: Wow, he really doesn’t pay attention to his bros. Uncool.
>”She said she couldn’t stand to be with a solider. She was scared I would get killed. She didn’t want to be the one that got the letter.”
Gwen: Technically, they call you.
>Damen didn’t look from the moon. “What was it like?”
>”What was what like, John?”
Tempest: (Damen.) What was it like to get some smoking hot lovin every night?
>”What was it like to love and be loved in return?”
>”Is there something you want to talk about?”
Deangelo: (Damen.) Quantum theory.
>”Do you want to hear a story?”
All MiSTers: No!!!!
>”Sure. I got lots of time.”
>”When I was fifteen, I was in love. Madly in love.” Damen paused to take a deep breath.
Dominick: Yeah, I was in love when I was fifteen. She had a staple through her belly button.
>”It’s rare but it happens.”
Gwen: No, it’s not okay. It doesn’t happen because no matter how mature a 15-year-old is they are still too inexperienced to be in a committed adult relationship. Besides, that’s not even age of consent age in most states.
>”Before I met her I thought all I would need in life was a little nookie every
now and then and I would be fine.”
M: (From the control room.) It’s okay, Dom. I gave the writer some comments and he at times responded to the them within the story itself. So whenever there’s something that doesn’t make any sense, then a craptastic explanation, that’s why.
>”It’s the only word I could think of. Now do you want to hear this or not?”
>”Sorry.” Kennedy looked at his friend.
Dominick: The soft moonlight illuminated his clear skin and soft brown eyes…
Tempest: Kennedy trembled at the thought of Damen standing so close to him. So close that if he were to reach out he could tenderly stroke his shoulders.
>In the moon’s light he could see the tracks of his tears.
Tempest: Oh how he wanted to lean over and gently embrace him from behind.
>Jay knew Damen’s mother.
Dominick: Er, okay.
Jarred: That was random.
>She always told him a real man was not afraid to show his feelings. God bless her for it.
Deangelo: There’s a difference between showing your feelings and bawling like a little girl.
>”That was my view on life. One day I got sick, I couldn’t go to school, and that was fine by me.”
Jarred: (Damen.) It gave me plenty of time to work on my internet empire of cat wigs.
>Kennedy waited, apparently this was something his friend needed to say.
Gwen: Oh my God, this is so badly written, M. Seriously.
M: (From the control room.) Remember, this is the rewrite. The original was far worse.
>Damen almost never talked about how he felt or his past.
Kalinda: Now all of a sudden his feelings spilled out like water released from a swollen dam.
>”The next day I felt good enough to go back, so when I got there, there was a line out the door,
Dominick: It was chicken tender day in the cafeteria.
>they still had the metal detectors up and running, so, I turned around, and went up the stair case next to the door.
Gwen: I can see how integral this is to the plot.
>For a middle school in the center of Oklahoma City, even after Columbine, their security was really lacking.
Melanie: Naw, it’s not that security is lacking, Damen just has mad stealth skillz.
>Well when I got to class, I looked up, and saw someone in my seat.
Jarred: Dum, dum, DUM! The plot thickens.
>I say I looked up because the class went up like a staircase.
Tempest: Yawn! This is so freaking boring. Get back to Damen and Kennedy already. I have a good feeling about those two. (^_^)
>So the kids in the back could see the teacher. Well I sat at the very back, but like I said, my seat was taken that day. The desk across from mine was empty, so I sat there.
Deangelo: Who stole Damen’s seat? What will happen next? Why the fuck would you care? All these questions and more when we return… next week… maybe…
>I was planing to give this person an ear-full for taking my seat. But then I thought, well he didn’t know I sat there, so just for today.
Gwen: Is this ever going to pick up?
>Well it turned out “he” was as “she”, a rather pleasant looking “she” to be honest. She had shoulder length red hair, and dark brown eyes.”
Kalinda: And no standards.
>Kennedy saw Damen grinning with the memory and smiled to himself.
Tempest: (Kennedy.) Tee-hee, it’s funny.
>”Well I introduced myself and I found out her name was Ann. Well, after a few days we became friends.
Dominick: (Damen.) And then we started boning.
M: (From the control room.) Actually, in the original version the kids did start sleeping together. I pointed it out that it doesn’t make their teenage love look like anything other than raging hormones and the author cut that part out.
Dominick: What’s wrong with raging hormones?
M: (From the control room.) Nothing, but when you’re trying to claim that your main characters are truly in love them boning away doesn’t make them look very serious. Of course, I pointed out that when you’re 15 you’re too immature to be in love, but he didn’t listen to me on that point either.
>Then one day, I was with my dad and my friend at the downtown library; I wanted to get on the net, you see.
Melanie: I see.
>”Well, there on one of the computers was Ann. We sat and talked and she showed me how to work the Internet, that didn’t take long, I’m a quick study.
Kalinda: Of course he is.
>We were there for some time, and finally the library was closing. I talked my dad into giving her a ride home.” Damen smiled a little more.
Jarred: That was nice of him. He’s not such a bad guy, you know.
M: (From the control room.) Just wait.
>”She walked everywhere she went.
Gwen: Like a nomad.
>”Then one night dad and I drove to her house, just going to drop in and say hi. Dad went up to the door ahead of me, I had to do something or rather in the car,
Deangelo: Something or rather? What on earth does that mean?
>when I heard her mom talking to my father.”
>Kennedy shifted his gaze back to the moon. A breeze rustled the treetops a few yards away.
Tempest: He stepped closer to Damen and gently kissed the back of his neck. Damen turned and lovingly embraced Kennedy, forgetting about his entire nonsensical story.
>”When I heard the tone of voice, a word or two, I decided to stay in the car. Then I heard another voice. It was Ann.
Dominick: She was PMSing again.
>She was pleading to her mom to let her stay the night at my place but her mom kept telling her no.
Tempest: Dude, I might not make the best parent, but I wouldn’t let my 15-year-old daughter spend the night at a boy’s house.
>She stomped off the porch, out to my dad’s car, got in the back seat, and started to cry.”
Melanie: Bridezilla style!
>”I didn’t know then. But I found out later that her father had tried to rape her. Her mother was in denial, she didn’t want to believe he could do such a thing.”
Dominick: Okay, this got really dark all of a sudden.
>”Why didn’t she go to the police?”
Gwen: Why didn’t Damen go to the police?
>”She was “manic-depressive”, she had run away from home more times then I can remember, and almost every time her mom would call the police.
Gwen: Yessssss… that’s what you’re supposed to do when someone runs away.
Deangelo: And what’s with manic depressive being on quotes?
>Do you really think they would believe her?”
“You got a point.”
Gwen: No, he doesn’t. The police have to investigate all claims no matter what they are. She might have FELT that they wouldn’t believe her, but if she told the police that a crime had been committed they are legally obligated to check it out.
>Damen let out a shuddering breath. “I’ll tell you Jay, to this day, I will never forget how much it hurt me, to see her in that back seat, crying her eyes out and knowing there was nothing I could do about it.
Kalinda: Um, hello?! You could have put your arms around her and tried to comfort her or something. Come on, it’s not rocket science.
>I tried to tell her that it would be all right, but what comfort can words give in a case like this?
Dominick: That’s why you give her a snuggle too. Works every time.
Jarred: (^-^) Yes, it does!
>It hurt so much because I knew then that I loved her with all my heart and soul. I loved her but I was to scared to tell her.”
Gwen: Call me cynical but I don’t believe that you can truly be in love unless the other person reciprocates. Otherwise you could be in “love” with someone that you’ve never even met before. That’s classified as an infatuation.
Tempest: Who needs love when you have hot sex? Seriously, forgot all of this gooey stuff, let’s get down to business! Wooo!
>”Fear of rejection?”
>”Right. About a week after that dad and I were going for a ride around town.
Dominick: Or rather.
>When I went outside, it just felt empty. That was an emptiness that went as close as the colors and as far as the wind.
Melanie: As close at the colors? Seriously, this sounds like bad magnetic poetry.
>It all felt empty. The colors seemed dull, the wind hollow.
Kalinda: (Damen.) My soul; lifeless, my heart; broken, my elbow; sore.
>The next day Ann’s mom called my dad, the Department Of Human Suffering had come and taken her away.
Gwen: Department of what?
Dominick: Back up, what just happened? Did someone turn in Ann’s dad? Did the department just roll up to the house and toss her in a van?
>I didn’t know what to do. She was gone, and I never got the courage to tell her how I felt.”
Melanie: Boo hoo, there’ll be others.
>”Department of Human Suffering?”
>”It’s what she called the Department of Human Services.”
>Kennedy nodded his head in understanding. “DHS strikes again.”
Dominick: I love how there’s this mutual understanding that DHS generally fucks things up.
>”She called every now and then, we would talk for hours, about nothing and everything.
Kalinda: Um, why don’t you tell her how you feel!?
Jarred: Yeah, this is the perfect time. Hours and hours of talking. Come on, Damen. There’s no excuse now.
>I would sit and listen to her tell me about this and that. I would rejoice in her happiness, and I would share her pain when she was unhappy.
Deangelo: If she’s bipolar that’s going to be a little more difficult than it sounds.
>”Every so often she would get fed up with DHS and escape. She would make a beeline for my house. Back then they still had her fairly close to my dad’s
Jarred: And the local Dairy Queen.
>My dad would let her spend the night and then we would take her back the next evening. He didn’t want to be caught harboring a runaway.
Kalinda: So he just harbored the runaway overnight. That’s sweet of him.
>One time she spent the night with me. I spent most of that night with my arms around her. And I never wanted to let go.
Tempest: That’s so… cliché.
>”Then I found out that they had taken her up north to Tulsa Oklahoma.
Deangelo: The colors were as close and lonely as the wind again?
>A couple of months later, I woke up with another feeling,
Kalinda: (Damen.) I hated my bedroom color scheme and knew that I absolutely must change it.
>almost like the one when DHS came and took her, only this feeling was more intense and much darker.
Dominick: Right, so the dude has Eagle eyes, sonar, and he’s so intuitive that he can get detailed “feelings” about events that are happening miles and miles away. He’s not a Mary Sue at all, is he?
>I found out that after a year and a half of this, her pissing off her foster parents and being moved from foster home to foster home,
Jarred: Maybe she should just stop pissing people off. I know she’s a teenager and that’s part of their job, but it’s a thought.
>she had enough of it, and slit her wrists.”
>Kennedy looked at Damen in utter shock. “Why did she do that?”
Deangelo: Because she has a mental illness that she’s probably not getting proper treatment for.
>”A year and a half of getting to know someone, just to be taken to another home for a few months, then getting moved again.
Gwen: I’m not an expert on America’s DHS system, but generally kids aren’t moved around that much.
>She was always living with bible thumping Christians when she was an atheist and was always forced to go to church.
Dominick: I know church is boring, but did she really have to slit her wrists over it?
>And as I said she was “manic-depressive”.
Tempest: Finally he mentions that key fact.
>And I think she had found out her boy friend was cheating on her. Well, it didn’t work, they got her to the hospital before she bled to death.”
Jarred: Well, that’s nice. Isn’t that nice?
Melanie: Yeah, great. Does it make me a bad person that I would have rather had her die just so this silly story would be over?
Dominick: After all the things that you’ve done, I don’t think that this would make you a bad person, Mel.
>Kennedy let out a sigh of relief and patted his friend on the back. “Glad to hear it.”
Tempest: Kennedy left his hand on his friends back and began to gently rub his shoulders. Damen turned and smiled at his friend before softly sealing their forbidden passion with a kiss.
>”I was to. But I was also devastated. I should have been there for her.
Dominick: And now he starts the Dark Mary Sue rant about feeling guilty over something he’s not responsible for.
>I should have taken that knife from her, stuck it in the wall, held her in my arms and tell her it would be all right. But I wasn’t there for her. And it almost cost her life.”
Dominick: And so it continues…
>”There was nothing you could have done, big John.”
Tempest: Big John? Ooo, I wonder why they call him Big John. (^_-)
>”That’s what everyone told me, but that didn’t stop me from beating myself up over it.
Deangelo: Of course not, you’re a Mary Sue, that’s why.
>I love her and I wasn’t there for her. Some friend I am.”
>”Look, John.” Kennedy said. “You didn’t know she was going to do it, she didn’t tell any one she was going to kill herself, did she?”
Gwen: Usually there are warning signs. Having a mental illness doesn’t help matters much.
>”Then what were you supposed to do? Read her mind?”
>”I should have done something damn it!
Deangelo: (Damen.) Like learned how to read minds. Sylvia Browne says that she can teach me how to do it!
>Called her more, gone to see her, wrote her more letters, something to let her know there are still reasons to live!”
Dominick: Like the tear on a golden child.
>”You couldn’t stop her. You didn’t know she was going to do until after the fact.”
>Damen was silent for a few minuets,
Gwen: He was silent for a few… minuets?
Kalinda: Awww, he knows how to dance.
Tempest: I knew he and Kennedy were more than friends.
>then he spoke in a defeated voice, “She had always forced herself into relationships, I guess because she was afraid to be alone.
Jarred: Someone needs to get Ann some medication and some talking therapy.
>I met two of her boyfriends, they were both nice guys, but the first one cheated on her, and the second…well I don’t know what happened to him.
Melanie: (Damen.) Neither do the police.
>She would end up with a broken heart and I couldn’t hold her and tell her she’ll find the right guy someday because we were separated by hundreds of miles.
Deangelo: Ode to being a teenager in lust.
>”Two years after DHS took her, she visited me again, this time with her latest boy-toy.
Gwen: Did you know that in England we call them toy boys?
Tempest: I like that better. Hmm, now a need one so I can go around calling him that.
Kalinda: Good thinking, Tempest.
>My dad left all of us alone in my room so Ann and I could get caught up, and I could get to know her boyfriend.
Dominick: Genius, there’s one way to tell if a girl really isn’t that interested in you; she’s dating other guys.
>I found out that on their way to my place, they had sex at least seven times. Up until then, she was a virgin.
Tempest: Or so she said.
>They call it a broken heart. That isn’t what it’s like. It felt like a hole just opened in the place where my heart is.
Gwen: Oh great, we’re back to the bad magnetic poetry.
>I looked at her boyfriend and I wanted nothing more in the world than to choke him until I crushed his neck into powder. Then I wanted to reach into his chest, rip out his heart and pour salt into the hole.
Kalinda: (Damen.) Then tear out his spine.
Melanie: (Damen.) And poke out his eyeballs.
Dominick: (Damen.) And sauté his liver then feed it to him!
Gwen: (o_o) You’ve all been watching too much Saw.
>After a while I settled on castration.”
Deangelo: Good choice.
>”Destructive imp ain’t ya?”
>”I was young, jealous and protective. What can I say.”
Deangelo: You still are young!
Kalinda: But Deangelo, Damen is the pinnacle of maturity! And he’s so lovable!
>”How did you find out?”
Jarred: Oh wait, let me guess, he could smell it.
Kalinda: Smell it?
M: (From the control room.) Don’t ask.
>”The first sign was when I saw them holding hands.
Tempest: Oh man, holding hands? Seriously? They’re doing it. No question about it.
>I asked them if they were an item. I was frightened of the answer but I had to know.
Gwen: This further proves my point. Ann is dating other people, she’s obviously not harboring these secret passions about Damen.
>She told me they had gotten together a few days before they walked to my place. Then her boyfriend had to make himself into a man by listing how, where, and how often the had sex.”
Dominick: Sounds like your average teenage dude.
>”Brutal.” Kennedy thought for a second, “They walked from Tulsa? Ain’t that like 400 miles?”
Jarred: Tulsa? Wha? Since when have they been in Tulsa?
Dominick: I don’t know, I stopped paying attention.
Kalinda: Me too.
>”I’m Sorry, I left out that she was moved to Lawton until the District Attorney decided if she was to live with her grandparents in Florida.”
Melanie: Now that we have that cleared up, back to the riveting story.
>”Oh. Go on.”
>”I guess I went into denial,
Deangelo: (Damen.) About the length of my bangs.
>but when all of us were in my bedroom, I showed my black light to them and turned it on so we could have a little fun.
Gwen: Yeah, this guy sounds like he’s laugh a minute.
>On Ann’s pants, were purple stains. Under a black light, white shows up as purple. And stains that you thought you had gotten out with water would show up as bright as day.
Melanie: Is that actually possible?
Kalinda: Let’s ask the expert. Tempest? Does sperm show up under black light?
Tempest: Yes, it does. Very CSI really.
>For the first time in my life, I knew what it was like to be truly and utterly crushed.
Gwen: Ah you’re young yet. There’s plenty more soul-crushing experiences to be had.
>Even a dense and/or naive person would know those stains were sperm.
Melanie: I love how he says “and/or” as if people actually talk like that.
M: (From the control room.) In the original edit he wrote that even a 2 year old would have known that those stains were sperm. I had to point out that no 2 year old would be able to identify sperm stains under black light.
>I knew it to. And her boyfriend ended up telling me that because they had sex outside almost every time, they put her pants under her so she wouldn’t be itching.”
Gwen: How considerate.
>For the first time that night Damen tore his gaze from the cosmos, only to put his face in his hands and start sobbing.
Tempest: Kennedy gently put his arm around his friend and whispered in his ear, “Go ahead, let it all out.”
>Kennedy put his arm around his friend and told him to let it out.
Melanie: (o_O?) Tempest, I think your attempt to read latent homoeroticism into the story is lost on the author.
>Speaking and sobbing at the same time, Damen said, “Th…Th…That n-n-night, a-ah-after sh-he-he lef-f-ft,
Jarred: Okay, the talking and sobbing is getting annoying.
>I went ho-home and L-laid in my b-b-bed and wanted to p-put a bullet in my head. B-but I d-di-didn’t have the g-g-g-guts!”
Kalinda: Very annoying.
>Damen was sobbing so hard; he couldn’t stand on his feet, and slumped to the ground, keeping his face in his hands.
Tempest: Kennedy squatted next to him and put his arm around his friend, pulling him into his arms and gently stroking his hair.
>Kennedy followed him down, keeping an arm around his friend for comfort.
Deangelo: I really hope that no one catches those two outside hugging in the middle of the night.
M: (From the control room.) That’s exactly what I told the author, D.
>He didn’t care if someone looked outside and saw them.
M: (From the control room.) And this is the answer.
>Damen needed shoulder to cry on and Kennedy would be damned to hell if he was going to let his manhood determine how he acted towards a grieving friend.
Kalinda: Yeah, his manhood doesn’t really seem to determine anything that he does.
Gwen: Don’t you think it’s hypocritical of us to complain when men act like dolts then complain when they’re all sensitive and gooey?
Melanie: Maybe it is. But come on, like D said, there’s a different between being sensitive and bawling like a little girl.
>Slowly, Damen calmed down enough to finish his story. “Two years of unrequited love almost drove me to insanity and to the point of suicide.
Jarred: Oh the humanity!
>But I finely got the courage to tell her how I felt. I called her and told her. She asked me if I was only thinking with my dick, or did I really mean it.
Dominick: (Damen.) And I told her that I couldn’t think with something that I didn’t have.
>I told her a quote, “This above all else, to thy own self be true”. And I said I would be true to myself and to her.
Melanie: But it — But how — But why —
Gwen: I know, I know. It’s completely out of context and I have no idea why telling her would convince her of his undying love for her.
>I told her I loved her with ever fiber of my being. That I cried when I woke up with only my pillow in my arms and not her. That I thought about her every day. And I told her that missed her so much it hurt.
Jarred: (Damen.) And I saw her face everywhere I went.
Melanie: (Damen.) And that I couldn’t figure out why it burned when I peed.
Dominick: (Damen.) And I told her it’s not you, it’s me.
>She was speechless.
Gwen: Maybe she was just overloaded with all of the clichés.
>I know I would die for her, if it meant she would have a chance at happiness. I was happy for her and her boyfriend,
Kalinda: The same one you wanted to castrate?
>and I wanted her to be happy above all, even if it meant she wouldn’t be with me.
Jarred: No, he doesn’t. He just spent an entire paragraph whining that he was alone and how much he wanted to be with her. He’s not thinking about her feelings at all.
>But I was so crushed and heart broken, that I just wanted to end my pain with a chunk of hot lead.
Dominick: (Nudging Melanie.) Does it take silver bullets to kill emos?
Melanie: I think that’s just werewolves.
>But I decided that would be selfish of me and unfair to her. And she would have one less friend and a lot more grief. I love her to much to do that to her.”
Kalinda: So instead he calls her up and lays a massive guilt trip on her.
>Kennedy silently agreed with him. Unrequited love was the worst thing anyone can experience.
Dominick: I dunno, being shot wasn’t much fun.
>He had a crush for a girl in the seventh grade.
Dominick: Um yeah, being shot is a little worse than that.
>He even loved her to a point.
Gwen: A point? What point?
>But she didn’t care about him.
Melanie: How excruciating and soul crushing!
Jarred: Clearly no one has felt that kind of pain before.
>”Jay, if you ever have to choose between a white picket fence or one night stands.
Gwen: (Damen.) Choose a complete sentence.
>Choose the fence. If you don’t, you are going to end up just like me, alone.”
Kalinda: And no one wants to end up like Damen.
>Kennedy didn’t say anything. What was there to say?
Tempest: Kennedy knew that he could only answer his friend with a gentle kiss on the lips as assurance that he would never be alone.
>One night stands would leave you, and in the end you’re old, alone, and unloved.
Tempest: I have no idea what he’s talking about. I have one night stands all the time and I’m sexy, vivacious, and desirable.
>But if you met a girl, fell in love, bought a house, put up a white picket fence and raised a family, then the rest of your days would be those of fulfillment, happiness, and love.
Dominick: Um, yeah. Unless you grow apart, your wife starts to hate you, but you stay together for the kids, who all secretly resent you and your wife and spend countless hours in therapy complaining to a high cost shrink about what terrible parents you were. Then you can only wish that you would have just stuck to one-night stands and never bothered with children to begin with.
>”When she wasn’t with me, I hated her.” Damen said. “I hated her for coming into my life, then leaving me.
Jarred: But I thought he loved her and only wanted her to be happy.
>But I couldn’t hate her for long, she couldn’t tell DHS where to put her, and I took some comfort in the fact that we were both under the same moon.
Melanie: I suddenly want to sing that song from the movie about the mouse that goes west.
Jarred: Me too!
>That’s all I could do, take comfort in the knowledge that she also just might be looking at the moon with me. And I just loved her more.
Gwen: I don’t see how that’s supposed to be comforting, but whatever bakes your cookie.
>I loved the nights we spent together, the moonlight spilling in the window while I held her in my arms. Those are moments I will cherish.”
Dominick: Are you sure that a dude wrote this, M?
M: (From the control room.) Apparently. He said he was a dude.
Dominick: This is so flowery, I hate to think that someone of my own gender was responsible.
>After a few minuets longer, Kennedy helped his heartbroken friend to his feet, and went back inside the barracks.
Tempest: Their night of passion over they both collapsed into their bunks, spent from lust, never to speak of this night ever again.
>Helping Damen into his cot, Kennedy thought about what he had said. Tomorrow evening he would call Cindy, and tell her
Kalinda: How to bake an apple pie.
Tempest: His true sexual preference.
Deangelo: How to tell semen stains under black lights.
>how much he still loved her, and if she still didn’t want a relationship with him, then he could live with it, and he would wish her well with her future love.
Melanie: Then he could take comfort that they were looking at the same moon.
Jarred: How come no one ever takes comfort in looking at the same sun. The sun is the same.
Gwen: Probably because it’s very bad for your eyes.
>But for tonight Kennedy slept soundly and dreamt of Cindy, Damen,
>and a faceless woman with shoulder length red hair, whom he felt was Ann. All under the moon.
M: (From the control room.) Well, you made it. How do you feel?
Kalinda: Utterly unfulfilled. Although I’m sure I’m not the first woman that Damen has left feeling unfulfilled.
Tempest: Page break! Page break!
>A Word from the Author,
Deangelo: Oh God, here we go.
>The characters in this story are fictional and belong to me. This is a work of fiction,
Gwen: That is so redundant that I must comment on its redundancy.
>and I left off where I did so you could choose what happens to the characters.
Dominick: Really? I can choose? How awesome is that? M, I want them all to die horrible, painful deaths.
M: (From the control room.) How?
Dominick: They all die in a car accident because Damen forgot to use his left turn signal. That is the worst way to die.
Jarred: I think being smothered to death on accident by an overly-eager birthday clown is worse.
Tempest: Death from sex beats all of those.
>And I want to extend my eternal gratitude and thanks to M. Without her this could not have been done.
(M mumbles something from the control room.)
>This story was meant to remind young couples of what they have, and what might happen if you lose it.
Deangelo: It’s also a guide on how to take people with bipolar disorder. You can see the skillful way Damen intertwined her illness with the plot. Not like he just mentioned it once in a throw-away manner and continued to write as if he had no idea what the disorder actually is.
>Don’t take for granted what or whom you have, because in the blink of an eye, you or your loved one could be killed or leave you.
Kalinda: Right, so always plan for imminent death.
Melanie: Life your life as though everyone you care about is going to die.
Tempest: Trust no one.
>”You or your love one could be gone”
Deangelo: Yes, we know. We’re all going to die. Like right now.
>You better let them know how you feel before the Reaper checks his watch and decides he’s tired of waiting.
Kalinda: I — You know — I don’t even have the words to describe how ridiculous that sentence is.
>Or if he or she feels the love is no longer there and leaves.
Gwen: There’s a big difference between someone dying and someone leaving a relationship.
>~ Till Next Time,
All MiSTers: No!!! Please no more next time!!!!
M: (From the control room.) Never fear kids, as far as I know he never wrote anything again. I lost contact with him years ago.
All MiSTers: Yay!!!
Kalinda: So this was an SI?
Gwen: What? The Mary Sue-esque abilities didn’t give it away?
Kalinda: Good point.
Melanie: I wonder if that actually is his name.
Jarred: I wonder who is going to win the next card game.
Dominick: (Standing up and rubbing his hands together.) Why don’t we go find out?
M: (From the control room.) Sounds good to me.
(All of the MiSTers and M are seated around the conference room table staring intently at their cards. M lays down a yellow four.)
Tempest: Go fish! (She laughs manically.)
Melanie: Uh, you feeling okay there, Temp?
Tempest: Of course, everything’s just wonderful, sweetie dumplings. Why wouldn’t it be?
(The others raise an eyebrow at Tempest who begins to frantically reshuffle her cards.)
Tempest: Does anyone have any twos? (No one responds.) No? Well, go fish!
Kalinda: Tempester, we’re not playing Go Fish, we’re playing Uno. There’s a big difference.
Tempest: Yeah, yeah, whatever. They both have cards. That’s all that really counts, you know.
Deangelo: Are you sure you’re alright, Tempest?
Tempest: Yes, fluffy muffin. Now stop distracting mommy, I’m playing poker.
M: Okay young lady, something’s wrong. (M holds up a blue reverse card.) What card is this?
Tempest: (Stares at the card.) You don’t know?
M: I know what it is, but do you know what it is?
Tempest: (Leaning closer in and whispering.) It’s a card.
M: (Turning to Dominick.) Dom, did peanut butter get stuffed anywhere else? Because something is wrong with Tempest.
Dominick: (Cringing.) Peanut butter might have found its way to other places. I don’t know. I had nothing to do with it.
Jarred: (Bursting into tears.) He got peanut butter on the characterization fluxation machine! I saw him do it but he swore me to silence!
M: Perfect. (She sets her cards down and stretches.) I guess we’ll have to get this figured out now. I wonder why the rest of you haven’t been effected yet.
Gwen: (Speaking in an American accent.) I know, dog. It’s mad crazy.
M: (O_O) Oh perfect.
(M stands and collects the cards. She turns to Rosie.)
M: Rosie, I’m going to need all of my power tools and a Dr Pepper to the control room right away. Okay?
M: Perfect. (She turns to the MiSTers.) You all stay here and er… do whatever it is you usually do when I’m not around. If anyone gets violent let me know, otherwise, play nice kiddies.
Jarred: I always play nice with others. (^_^)
M: Good to know that Jarred is still okay. Come along Rosie, it’s time to go.