by TJ Klune
“Uh-huh.”
“Being nice isn’t always flirting, Xander. Maybe if you stopped trying to bone everyone, you could see that.”
“Wow,” Xander said. “That almost hurt. I’m impressed.”
Josy bumped his shoulder. “Dick.”
“Asshole.”
“Sorry about that,” Q-Bert said as Dee left the stage, though she didn’t go far. “Technical difficulties with the mic and my brain. You know how it is. I—I appreciate you all being here. Like I said, I’m trying to get better at these things. I know I canceled the last two events, but I made myself a promise for tonight. I told myself that I could do this, that I could get up in front of all of you, because I owe it to you. But more than that, I owe it to myself. Some days are harder than others, but today is a good day.” He glanced at Josy before looking back out to the rest of the crowd. “And I’ve been reminded that I’m a good person, so let’s do this.”
The crowd roared. Tigress howled. Josy clapped a little maniacally. Xander crossed his arms.
Q-Bert looked taken aback, but he continued as the crowd quieted. “I guess we should start as these things do. With the virgins.”
The crowd laughed, and a few people stood up from their chairs as their friends jostled around them.
“That’s you,” Tigress whispered excitedly. “You’re so lucky. I remember when Q-Bert took my virginity. It was amazing.”
Josy was a little alarmed. “Um, okay? I like you, and I’m glad you decided to paint your face, but I don’t know if I want to get naked in front of all these people. I mean, I could do that if it was an audition. I’ve had to do it before.” He frowned. “Though I still don’t know what that had to do with Japanese energy drinks. But at least they let me hug the body pillow with the naked anime girl on it. Konnichiwa!”
“You don’t have to get naked,” Tigress told him. “It’s not about sex. It’s about cupcakes.”
“Dude,” Josy breathed. “I was just thinking about food, like, five minutes ago! Granted, I always think about food when I’m stoned, but still! It’s like you’re reading my mind.”
“It’s destiny,” Tigress said. “You have to stand up.”
Josy stood up immediately.
“Sit down,” Xander hissed.
He looked down. “I can’t. I’m a virgin. And there’s cupcakes.”
“Oh. Well, then. Cupcakes sound pretty good right now.”
“I know, right? Stand up before they think you’re not a virgin!”
Xander rolled his eyes. “No one in their right mind would think I’m a virgin.” But he stood up anyway.
Josy adored him.
There weren’t as many virgins as Josy expected. He started counting, got to seven, but then got distracted by the poster of the ethnic children jumping on the trampoline while reading and began to think about the last time he was on a trampoline, which for some reason led to thoughts of horseback riding, and how was it that he was twenty-five years old and had never ridden a horse? He couldn’t even be sure he’d ever seen a horse up close. He then wondered if miniature ponies were the result of genetic experimentation and if there were any videos on the Internet of cats riding dogs wearing saddles. He needed to look that up when he got home.
He was snapped out of his daydream of a cat wearing a sheriff’s uniform riding its horse in a dusty western town (“You think you can come and rob my bank? You’ve got to be kitten me!”) when the standing virgins began to form a line in front of the stage.
He pulled Xander to the back of the line.
“You owe so much for this,” Xander told him.
“I got you high and brought you to a library. I think we’re even.”
“What? That doesn’t even make sense.”
“I know. Isn’t it great?”
Q-Bert moved to the front of the stage and sat at the edge, his feet hanging off the side. He was wearing green Chucks and pink socks under his jeans. Josy wondered if he was colorblind, but since he had a Hypercolor T-shirt on under his suspenders, he didn’t know if he had room to discuss the fashion choices of others.
Dee came to stand next to him, carrying a white bakery box. Josy wanted a cupcake so bad he could almost taste it. He wondered if they also brought milk, which would make this the best night of his entire life. He didn’t see any milk, so it was only equal to the last best night of his life, which involved a bong named Vlad the Inhaler, a stack of black-and-white monster movies on DVD, and a pizza bigger than his head. That had been the best night.
This was close, though.
The line moved quickly.
Josy was very excited.
He barely noticed the people walking past him back to their seats.
Xander did and was mumbling under his breath, but Josy ignored him.
And then it was his turn.
Q-Bert sat at the edge of the stage, the tips of his toes scraping against the floor. He was shorter than Josy had thought when he’d first walked out on the stage. The top of his head probably barely came to Josy’s chin if they were standing side by side. Since it wasn’t polite to ask someone if he could keep them in his pocket, he didn’t.
It was close.
“Hi,” Josy said. “I’m a virgin. But not in real life. Just a virgin in the library.”
Q-Bert blushed and his eyebrows twitched. “I can see that. I like your shirt.”
“Thank you,” Josy told him seriously. “I like your socks. I have a thing for a good pair of socks.”
“Cool.”
“Yeah, cool.”
“Cool, cool, cool.”
Xander groaned from behind him.
“This is Xander’s friend,” Dee told him, that evil smile back on her face. “Xander’s the guy who does my ink. And this is Josy.”
“It’s short for Josiah,” Josy told him helpfully.
“That’s… nice,” Q-Bert said, sounding slightly strangled. He reached into the box for a cupcake. It had red frosting. Josy was so on board with all of this. He was going to eat the shit out of that cupcake. “Hold out your hand.”
Josy did.
Q-Bert placed a Wet-Nap on his palm. And then he said, “Sorry about this. I’ll try to not get any on your shirt.”
“What? Why would you—”
And then Q-Bert shoved the cupcake onto Josy’s forehead.
It took a moment for Josy to figure out what was happening. One moment he was just standing there, waiting for this… this guy to give him food he hadn’t expected to get, and the next his forehead had cake and frosting on it.
All in all, Josiah Erickson was very confused.
Dee snorted. Josy decided she was evil.
“You’ve been devirginized,” Q-Bert said quietly, pulling his hand back. “Thank you for coming.”
Josy was speechless. And he couldn’t help but smile. Because what.
Q-Bert dropped the smashed cupcake into the box.
It was about this time Josy wondered what would happen to all the smashed cupcakes and if he was stoned enough to forgive himself for asking if he could eat them.
In the end, he decided against it.
He stepped out of the way. Xander took his place, and even though he was scowling, he didn’t try to fight getting a cupcake to the face. Dee laughed at him.
He followed Xander back to their seats.
“I feel like I’ve been betrayed,” he told Tigress. “By you. By Q-Bert. By god.”
Tigress nodded solemnly. “And yet you’ve been anointed by Q-Bert. You are no longer a virgin.”
“But… but all those cupcakes. What’ll happen to them? They’ll be all alone and scared with no one to eat them.”
“It’s in my hair,” Xander muttered. “You owe me so bad for this.”
“You took it to the face like a champ,” Josy told him, patting his hand. “But then, you’re used to it, so I wouldn’t expect any less.”
“I don’t know why I forget how much of a dick you are when stoned. A sappy, sappy dick.”<
br />
“I regret nothing.”
Xander sighed as he wiped a glob of frosting off his cheek. “That’s fine. I regret enough for the both of us. Why haven’t you wiped your face yet?”
“I forgot. Oh! Before I do—” He pulled out his phone and demanded Xander and Tigress smoosh in close for a selfie. Tigress came willingly. Xander came too, though he didn’t look happy about it. Josy took the picture, and though he looked ridiculous, he knew his followers would appreciate seeing that even though he was an actor, he still knew how to have a good time with frosting on his face, a scowling best friend on one shoulder, and a woman with tiger face paint on the other. Hashtags were involved, of course. He’d tried using the new Russian thing Serge had told him about, but it’d been confusing, and he figured when Instagram became cool again, he would be at the forefront of that retro wave. By the time he put his phone away, he already had eleven likes and three comments. Granted, one of the comments asked if Clifford the Big Red Dog had jacked off on him, but still. It was the thought that counted.
Once the virgins were finished, Dee closed the lid to the box. Josy stared at it mournfully as she took it away. Since he was above eating face cupcakes (barely), he decided to let them go. It was one of the hardest decisions of his life.
By the time Q-Bert stood again at the podium, Josy had managed to get all the frosting off his face. He handed his Wet-Nap to Xander, who demanded to know what exactly he was supposed to do with it. Josy told him that his pants were vintage, and he didn’t want to get frosting on them.
Q-Bert cleared his throat. “Thank you to those who offered their virginities to me. I will never forget your sacrifice. I shall now read to you from one of the good books.” He held up a thin tome. “Getting Poetry Slammed in My Butthole by Sasquatch. Chapter 1.”
The audience cheered.
Josy could barely stand the anticipation.
Xander looked as if he were dying on the inside. And also the outside.
Q-Bert began to read.
Daxton Shepherd awoke one morning, unaware that his life was about to change. He was tall and fit, with heavy muscles in this arms and legs and chest, a testament to his twice-daily workouts. His body was a temple, and he resided in said temple as its king.
“Wow,” Josy whispered. “He gives Casey a run for his money in terms of prose.”
“When you tell Casey that, please let me be there,” Xander whispered back. “I’ll record it and everything.”
He raised his arms above his head and yawned as he stretched, working out the kinks in his back and shoulders. His body felt pleasantly sore. He struggled to remember what had happened the night before. He remembered going to the poetry slam at the local haberdashery, where he’d gone to get fitted for a new top hat. He’d needed the hat to attend an upcoming business meeting where he would conduct his business. He hadn’t expected there to be a poetry slam at the haberdashery, but since life was unpredictable and wonderful, he just went with it, as one should.
“So many hidden meanings,” Tigress whispered reverently.
Josy didn’t know what a haberdashery was, but he nodded in agreement.
He was about to get out of bed when he realized he was….
Q-Bert coughed, looking almost embarrassed.
When he realized he was nude.
“Oooh,” the audience said.
“Oooh,” Josy said, trying to get in on that action. He appreciated a good audience oooh.
Now this was strange, because Daxton didn’t like sleeping in the nude. He always preferred wearing tight boxer briefs that showed off his considerable package. His girlfriends always appreciated them, and he knew that men at the gym eyed him on the regular too. He wasn’t gay, but he still liked to be looked at.
He wiped the sleep from his eyes, and it was only then that he realized he wasn’t in his own bed at all, or even in his own bedroom. He was in a bed. But it was in… a cave.
Josy didn’t know how to handle any of this. He’d never been so transported by a piece of fiction. It was like he too was in the cave. He could hear the water dripping off stalactites, could smell the moss growing on the walls. Q-Bert was obviously a master of his craft, and it had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Josy was stoned.
Well. Mostly nothing.
Daxton looked around, sure that he’d been kidnapped. He pressed his hands back against the bed, only to feel what seemed to be a warm piece of shag carpeting underneath his fingers.
“I don’t think that’s carpet in the bed,” Josy whispered to Xander.
“I never understood when people said they couldn’t even,” Xander whispered back. “Until this very moment. I can’t even.”
Daxton turned his head slowly to look back on the other side of the bed. And there, eyes closed and lips flapping from heavy snoring, was a large, hairy ape creature.
“What in the ever-loving F,” Daxton managed to say.
“My thoughts exactly,” Xander muttered.
The large, hairy ape creature looked to be at least eight feet tall and was heavily muscled under all the hair. Daxton couldn’t help but let his gaze trace along the muscles of his chest and stomach to where the sheet pooled around his hips. There was an enormous bulge under the sheets where his crotch was, and even though Daxton had never even considered looking at a male before (human or otherwise), he found himself getting aroused. He thought that probably made him bisexual, since being gay for one person (or an ape creature) was preposterous and didn’t actually occur in the real world. He understood that erasing the bisexual label was problematic and that people should be accepted for who they are.
“Q-Bert is very woke,” Tigress said to Josy.
When Daxton brought his gaze back up that long, hairy, muscled body, he found the ape creature’s eyes were open and watching him. The ape creature smiled, his large lips pulling back over gigantic square teeth.
“Hello,” Daxton said. “I’m sorry. I’m having a hard time remembering coming back here. I hope I wasn’t too much of a problem. I think I might have drank too much last night.”
And then the hairy ape spoke in a deep, erotic voice. “That’s all right. We had a good night. You shouldn’t feel mortification after our bout of perceived fornication.”
“What,” Xander said flatly.
Josy slowly turned to look at him. “Sasquatch rhymes.” He was pretty sure this had now surpassed any night with Vlad the Inhaler. “You thought there would be no poetry. You were wrong. All of this is poetry.”
“Yes, well,” Daxton said. “I still feel terrible. I don’t remember much of what happened. I know I went to the haberdashery and found a poetry slam, but not much after that. I didn’t mean to drink all that wine.”
The hairy creature propped himself up on one of his elbows. “You did come to the haberdashery, and then you decided to stay, which flattered me. There was something about the way you looked. I thought I could read you just like a book. You watched me like you’d never heard a poem before, and I knew I just had to have you, either here in my bed or on the cave floor.”
Tigress sighed dreamily. “I love romance.”
“That’s unexpected,” Daxton admitted. “I go in to get a hat sized and instead find someone like you. Life is strange. I never thought I would be into someone like you, but even now, I find myself craving your touch.”
The hairy ape creature arched an enormous eyebrow. “Someone like me? What does that mean? What do you see?”
Daxton once again let his gaze trail down the long, muscled body of his bedmate. “A beast who looks like he is capable of ravaging me. I never knew I wanted that until this very moment.”
“Oh,” the hairy ape creature said. “You realized that last night, much to my ever-loving delight. Once you heard my poetic rhymes, I knew you would be mine for all of time.”
This time when Tigress sighed dreamily, Josy joined her.
“All of time?” Daxton asked, confused. “But I can’t even remember your name. H
ow could you want someone like me, whose body is the only thing that can recall our first time together?”
“We haven’t had our first time yet,” the hairy ape creature said. “I respected your autonomy, even at the beginning of our tête-à-tête.”
“Then why am I so sore?” Daxton asked, looking away. “You know. Down there.”
The hairy ape creature reached up a hairy monkey hand and cupped the side of Daxton’s face. “Because you fell down a set of stairs. I tried to save you but was caught unawares. I am afraid ’twas the price of drink. But fear not, after I picked you up, I made sure our arms were linked.”
“So we haven’t experienced our first time yet?” Daxton asked, heart racing in his chest.
The hairy ape creature growled. “No, we have not. Though I want to have you with all I’ve got.”
“I am really uncomfortable right now,” Xander mumbled.
Q-Bert looked as if he could agree. He hesitated, blushing harder before continuing.
Daxton felt himself… harden. A spike of arousal flooded through him. He was barely holding himself back from launching across the bed at the hairy ape creature. “Please,” he begged. “Tell me your name.”
“Sasquatch is what they call a-me. But to you, I am Sassy, and that’s all I want to be.”
Daxton could hold himself back no longer.
From there, Josiah Erickson heard things he never thought he would. Descriptions of carnal acts that would make even the most amorous of hairy ape creatures flush. The fact that it was described by Q-Bert’s soft voice only made the strange dissonance of what he was reading that much sharper. Josiah wasn’t experiencing a full-body high—the tablets weren’t strong enough for that—but by god, it felt like it. He wasn’t aroused by what he was hearing (and he hoped no one else was either, but to each their own), but he was entranced by it. He listened to Sassy poetry slam Daxton in the butthole, where such excruciatingly wonderful dialogue was uttered like “With my member I shall split you in half, since it’s almost as long as the neck of a giraffe,” and “Take it, take it, take it from me, and next time we’ll see what happens with you over my knee.”
In his short, eventful life, Josiah Erickson had been transported to the place Serge had described as Nirvana perhaps only four times.
