CATEGORY: Satire.
RATING: PG
DISCLAIMER: Nope,
they’re still not mine. The boatloads of money I made off the last
story wasn’t quite enough to buy them off. Relax Mr. IRS man!
I’m just kidding! Geez...don’t you people have a sense of humor?
Warning: if held up to a lit match, they will catch on fire...which is
actually a story no one has written yet. The surgeon general has
not issued any precautions against reading this, but according the New
England Journal of Medicine sitting in front of your computer for too long
can cause serious retinal damage, carpal tunnel syndrome, and unrequited
longing for the object of your desire.
COMMENTS: I wrote this in response to
the backlash against ‘Mary Sue’ type stories. Unbetaed. Again.
WARNINGS: If you don’t like Satire,
or are easily offended: don’t read this.
“So,” Carlos said, setting his beer down, “You game?”
“Oh, why not,” Trent said, grabbing his second beer and downing it in a single gulp. “Can’t be any worse than some of my other blind dates.”
“I said you won’t regret it,” the Cuban said, motioning Butch for another round.
“What I don’t get, is if she’s so great, why does she need to be set up on a blind date?” Trent asked, accepting his third beer for the night from the sulking bartender. The two private eyes could hear him muttering as he walked away.
“No one ever asks ME if I’d like to go out on a date....”
“I don’t know, Trent,” Carlos said, starting to slur his words. “It’s really up to the writers.”
“Yeah, I know. You said that already Carlos,” Trent said, setting down the empty bottle with a thump. “If people like Kim don’t like her, why do they keep putting her in?”
“Some people like her,” the Cuban said, leaning his chin precariously on his arm.
“So why doesn’t every one like her?” the blonde asked, slouching down in his seat.
“I guess it’s like Kim said...they feel she takes away from the story,” Carlos tried to explain through the haze engulfing his brain.
“Have they read the stories?” Trent asked, struggling to sit up as Butch brought yet another round of beers.
“I don’t know,” Carlos answered honestly. “Some of them, I guess.”
“And what of the others?” Trent asked, wiping the dribble of beer from his chin.
“That, I don’t know. I heard someone say once that they’d read the first page...” the dark haired man trailed off as he tried to set his beer down without spilling it.
“Do they write stories themselves?” Trent asked, looking around the bar.
“Some of them do,” Carlos answered, belching loudly.
“And the others?” the martial artist asked, sliding back down in his seat once more.
“I don’t know! Geez, Trent! Why do you have to get so analytical all the time?” his partner asked crossly.
“It’s my nature. I’m the compassionate one, remember?” Trent answered. “It just seems to me that you shouldn’t judge a character based on one page or an author based on one story. Especially if you’ve never tried to write a story yourself. Do they know how much courage it takes to put your work out there only to be ridiculed for it?”
“Yeah, but...sometimes they do have a point,” Carlos slurred. “I mean look...here we are half way through a second story and all we’ve done is sit here and get drunk.”
“I guess that means the authors can do whatever they please with us. The pen is mightier than the sword,” the blonde philosophized.
“True, true,” Carlos said, nodding his head erratically.
"“Still, I see your point too,” Trent continued. “I wouldn’t mind kicking some butt right now.”
"“You always get to kick butt,” Carlos complained. “What about me?”
"“You get to kick butt too,” his partner argued.
"“Yeah, but not like you...and most times you’re saving my butt,” Carlos grouched.
"“I’ve tried to get you to step up your martial arts training,” Trent pointed out.
“But if I do that, I won’t have as much time for the ladies,” Carlos whined. “Then I’ll end up some pathetic, non-dater like you.”
“Thanks buddy,” Trent said dryly.
“No offense,” Carlos said.
“Look, just because I’m looking for more of a serious relationship...”
“And Mary Sue can provide that!” the Cuban said, hoping to change the subject before the blonde punched his nose in.
“You think?” Trent asked.
“Never know if you don’t try,” Carlos said.
“Yeah...all right. I’ll give it a shot,” Trent agreed. “But what if no one reads the story?”
“Their loss...it might be really good,” Carlos said.
“Yeah,” Trent said. “Now let’s go kick some butt.”
“Who?” Carlos asked apprehensively. They had, after all, had several more beers to drink than usual.
“That guy over there,” Trent said, pointing to a man roughly one and
a half times the size of Butch. “I think I can take him.”
THE END!