Andy Stevenson vs. The Lord of the Loins

by Kage Alan

  This wasn't happening. This couldn't be, yet here we were. I rolled my eyes, inserted the plug and the car literally groaned to life.

  "What kind of sick bastard dreams up something like this?"

  "To the museum!” Pansy shouted, and the car lurched forward. We were roaring through the streets of Grand Rapids moments later and fast approaching a large building in the distance. It must have been the museum because when the car finally stopped in front of it, police immediately surrounded us, and a large crowd formed to cheer us on.

  "Look! It's the Dildonic Duo!” someone shouted.

  "I am so not hearing this.” I stepped out of the car and wondered who all these people were and how they knew who I was.

  "Fagman, thank God!” Commissioner Coitus ran up to us with Chief Chastity at his heals. Actually, it was Professor Staff and Troy, the president of the Ten Percent Club. “If you don't stop that madman..."

  "Yeah, yeah yeah.” I stopped him. “I've already had the plot rammed down my throat once today."

  Their eyes grew wide, a smile crept onto their faces and they looked from me to Alan and back again.

  "Oh, geez, get your minds out of the gutter, will you? I meant that Pansy here has already told me that we need to catch him and...” I stopped as a small chill ran up my spine. “Is it cold out here to you guys?"

  They shook their heads.

  "I feel a bit chilly. Anyway, come on, Pansy."

  Alan and I ran up an excessively long flight of stairs and had to stop several times for breath and it never looked like we'd actually gotten very far. To make matters worse, when we finally did reach the doors, they were locked and no matter how hard I pulled or pushed, they wouldn't open.

  "Son of a...” I muttered in frustration.

  "No problem.” Alan positioned himself sideways just inches away from the front of one of the doors and closed his eyes. “It's just mind over matter."

  I looked down, and whatever his mind was thinking was causing something to become a whole lot more full of matter.

  "Would you kindly cover yourself up?"

  "Macho member!” he screamed, and swung his ... macho member at the door.

  This was really embarrassing. The glass shattered, and come to think of it, so did the entire line of doors. I stood back and surveyed the damage.

  "That's one powerful penis you've got there.” I was impressed. “I've never seen a point of entry made in that fashion before."

  "Fashion is my middle name, points of entry are my game.” Alan smiled and rested his hands on his hips as his member returned to normal size. “If we win this, I'll demonstrate later on when we get home ... again."

  And with that, he ran into the museum, and I followed shortly.

  "Oh, man.” It was even colder in here than it was outside. “What is up with the temperature in here?"

  "You'll be asking what's up with a whole lot more than the temperature once I release my spermatium ray and impregnate all the women in Gonad City with clones of myself!"

  Tristan appeared at the far end of the hall that made up the entrance to the building.

  "Yeah, thanks for the reminder,” I called to him and shivered. “Ever hear of the concept of redundancy?"

  He was an assclown even in my dreams.

  "Sweet sodomite, Fagman! What do we do?” Pansy grabbed my shoulder.

  "Find me a blanket or something warm. I'm freezing my nuts off in here."

  "No!” Alan shrieked. “Not the nuts! Without them, you'd be ... nutless. Save the nuts!” he started shouting over and over again.

  Pretty soon, Count Cullions, Commissioner Coitus, Chief Chastity and the rest of the public were shouting it, too. It was all one great big chorus, and even I started to chime in.

  "Save the nuts! Save the nuts! Save the nuts..."

  "Andy!” Alan shouted in my ear.

  "What?” I roused myself but couldn't remember where I was. It took a few seconds, but I finally realized I was in my dorm room in bed with Alan. It was freezing, and I didn't have any covers on.

  "You were dreaming.” He rested a reassuring hand on my chest. “And saying something about saving the nuts."

  "I'm freezing!” I grabbed the covers and pulled them all away from him. That's why I was having a problem. “You're hogging the damn blankets."

  "I got cold,” he said defensively.

  "I thought you were warming yourself up with me?” I did have a habit of radiating heat.

  "You sweat!” he accused me.

  "So?"

  "Does the word ewww mean anything?” Alan grabbed the blankets back.

  "No, and that's because it's not a word.” I tried getting them back, but he already had a grip on them; and if there was one thing I'd learned about him the hard way, it was that he had one hell of a grip. “Let go."

  "I don't think so,” he announced defiantly. “And you can't make me."

  "Wanna bet?” I still had a secret weapon on my side. “You may have your power grip, but I have cold feet.” A moment or two of silence passed.

  "You wouldn't?"

  I effortlessly slipped my foot under the sheets and ran it up the side of his leg.

  "Aaaarrrrggghhhhh!” The covers opened, and I was allowed back inside. “If you start sweating..."

  "Don't turn me on and I won't sweat."

  "You mean that my turning you on makes you generate that much heat?” He snuggled his body right up to mine and placed his hand on my chest, pretending to play with what nonexistent hair I had there. A minute passed. “Oh, God, it does!"

  "Well, you asked for it.” I sighed and wished he'd just shut up. All I wanted was to sleep with some warmth. “Take my mind off what you're doing and we should be okay."

  "Okay.” With silence, maybe? If he quit moving, I might forget where his hand and body were—so long as he didn't start snoring, in which case I wouldn't get any sleep because of that. I'd be warm, though. “What were you dreaming about?"

  So much for quiet.

  "That you and I were the Cupless Crusaders, Fagman and Pansy, and we were out to stop the diabolical scheme of Count Cullions—Tristan—to impregnate all the women in Gonad City with clones of himself. Unfortunately, I started getting chilly, and everybody became concerned that my nuts might freeze, so they were chanting and I woke up."

  Some time passed, and I thought he'd fallen asleep because I'd somehow been verbose again.

  "You have issues ... and you're sweating again.” Alan smacked my arm.

  "Well, you're a little aroused at the moment. What am I supposed to do? Automatically cool down when I feel ... this? That's called sending me mixed signals."

  "You're going to lecture me about mixed signals after a dream like that? What's wrong with this picture?” He poked me in the back several times with his finger.

  "I'll tell you what's wrong. If you don't stop flapping your trap, we're never going to get any friggin sleep! Now, goodnight.” A few peaceful moments passed.

  "Crab ass."

  "Nag."

  More time passed, and I thought he might really be asleep this time. Ahhhhhh, peace and quiet.

  "And don't think I can't hear you pass gas in the middle of the night, either."

  Okay, where did that come from?

  "I do not pass gas in my sleep."

  "Oh, right. So that little noise I hear from your ass and the sudden scent of what your system considers digested food is all in my imagination?"

  "Be nice, or I'll tell everyone you drool."

  I'm quite certain his eyes bulged with that comment, but half an hour later, Alan did fall asleep ... then proceeded to snore in my ear for the next four hours. Git.

  * * * *

  "So, Alan.” Kim came up behind him and put her arms around his waist. “You're already packed for spring break and just waiting to be picked up? I wish I could be that organized.” She squeezed his sides. “And speaking of packed, Andy tells me—"

  "That's not organized.” I cut her off before sh
e got me in trouble as I walked through the door, past them and started stuffing clothes into a duffel bag. “It's anal."

  She giggled, and he gave me a sour look.

  "Actually, Alan is a minimalist when it comes to taking things with him. He'll pack the bare minimum and leave the trimmings behind."

  "My packing skills come from all those summer trips overseas. I don't feel the need to bring every CD and tape with me that I own, not to mention posters, pulp novels, videotapes..."

  "Nipple clips,” Kim added.

  "Excuse me?"

  Alan turned and stared at her. I waved to her not to bring those up, but he caught sight of me in the mirror and I had to fake running my hands through my hair.

  "Did you just say ‘nipple clips?’”

  "Nipple clips?” She scoffed. “Of course I didn't say that. I said ... whipple nips."

  "Really?” He turned to me now. “And what, pray tell, is a whipple nip?"

  "Candy.” I pulled a bunch of dirty clothes out of the hamper and stuffed them into a laundry bag. He was still staring at me, but I wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of looking back and cracking up, further evidence that both Kim and I were full of it. Toto Coelo's “I Eat Cannibals” started up on the stereo and reminded me of something we'd forgotten. “What do you guys want to do about dinner?"

  "I've been thinking about becoming gay, too, so I can finally date the guys I like,” Kim piped up.

  "Because that's how it works."

  I loved how these conversations changed subjects on a whim. “I'm not sure that's on the menu, but I'll ask."

  She flipped me off.

  "And you can't become a gay man without a very expensive operation, and you'd have to give up your breasts. Now ... dinner?"

  "I was thinking Subway or Tubby's,” Alan volunteered, hoping that no more would be said about the other conversation.

  "I'm not giving my babies up.” Kim pointed at what she was referring to, and I put my hand over Alan's eyes. “I worked hard to get them this perky, and I'll be damned if I can't get someone to take them out for a walk over the break!"

  "Moving right along...” I pretended not to hear her. “I'm more of a Tubby's person myself. My dad used to take me there after we'd drop Mom off at work and we'd play Pong while waiting for our order.” I perked up. “Huh ... a pleasant memory. I guess I'm not as emotionally scarred from my childhood as I thought."

  "I'm sorry.” Alan burst out laughing. “But ... Pong?"

  "Don't be an asshole.” I smiled and then added, “Dear."

  "Don't call me that.” He turned red with embarrassment.

  "I'd call you that, too, if we were kissing.” Kim put one arm around him and another around me.

  "You told her we kissed?” He turned even redder yet. “You didn't happen to mention...?"

  "That you kiss like a frog?” I asked, and he turned a shade darker yet. I never knew Asians could blush. “No, I left that part out."

  His mouth opened, and I knew whatever came out wasn't going to be pleasant, so I decided to fire off a warning shot.

  "Ribbit!"

  He clamped shut.

  "So...” I clapped my hands together. “...we were discussing dinner ... for the last time."

  "I kind of like Subway.” Kim pulled a chair out and sat with her back to the door. “But I either get one that's too big for me or one that's too small."

  "Three sizes at Tubby's,” I informed her.

  "Really?” She looked impressed.

  "Yeah.” Alan sat down on the floor and watched me try and stuff more clothes into the laundry bag. “I like the fact you get to choose if you want six, eight or a whole foot. I don't know how anyone can take twelve inches, though."

  "I'll bet Andy can.” Kim teased. “Once he sets his mind to it, anyway."

  "I have been known to go for the gold, and twelve inches can really hit the spot,” I teased right back.

  "Well, eight is about my limit. What about you, Alan?"

  "I've had them all, but I'd say it depends on what I'm in the mood for. If I just want a snack, six inches will satisfy me. If I'm hungry, then eight. If I'm feeling really naughty, then I can take twelve just as easily as Andy can."

  "Ahem...” Ryan nervously cleared his throat and announced his presence at the door.

  "Oh, hey, Ryan!” I looked up from the bag that threatened to split because of how much I'd stuffed into it.

  "Ryan...” Alan craned his neck around. “...what's a whipple nip?"

  "Candy” came the answer, as if it should be so obvious.

  "Dammit!” Alan knew he wasn't going to get the answer he was looking for.

  "I'm glad you're here.” I left the bag alone and ignored the look of disbelief on Alan's face. “Because we were just discussing—"

  "Yeah.” He cut me off. “I have a pretty good idea what you were just discussing, and it's why I can't see you guys for a while."

  "We can order something else if you want,” Kim offered, “but I'm really getting hungry."

  "No, you don't understand. I can't see any of you anymore at all. I got in last night, and the Catholic priest from my mother's church was waiting up for me in my room.” All our mouths dropped. “They found out what the Ten Percent Club is because they called up and talked to Troy. He said he met me and personally invited me to their first meeting, then told them what the club was alllll about. He even went one step further and invited them to attend with me.” His composure started to falter.

  "I spent the next two hours trying my best to convince the priest that I was a red-blooded American youth who dreamt daily about engaging some hot, big-breasted sorority girl in a little premarital sex. He asked me to explain why I was getting mail from such an organization, and I told him about Tristan. I thought things were going well until he dialed the student directory, got the bastard's phone number and called him."

  Ryan was shaking so hard I thought he was going to pass out. “I don't know what was said, but it was enough to make him look like he was fantasizing about his favorite altar boy."

  "Tristan never told him it was all a lie?” Alan—and the rest of us—couldn't believe what he was hearing.

  "No.” Ryan took a deep breath. “I think he started detailing certain acts that never took place ... at least with me. Tristan was still talking to him when he hung up the phone.” Another pause. “I looked at him, he looked at me, then composed himself, used the bathroom for ten minutes, went downstairs and had an extremely lengthy conversation with my parents. Shortly after, I was informed I was not to make any plans during spring break."

  "Aw, honey.” Kim stood up and put her arm around him. “I'm staying home, too. I have the latest Denzel Washington flick, a vibrator and pizza delivery, so why would I even need to leave?"

  "That's not the point.” I felt terrible for Ryan. “He's in trouble and there's a good chance that he and I will be in the same predicament when I tell my parents about Alan and I."

  "You most certainly will not be telling them about you and me,” Alan corrected.

  "Better living through denial?” I retorted, then turned back to Ryan. “Look, why don't you just tell them that Troy meant to invite me to the club meeting, and that Tristan is only bugging you because of me. Heck, blame it all on me.” It made sense. “If you like, I'll even call them up and—"

  "No!” Ryan took emphatic to a whole new level. “I don't want you calling them and I don't want you calling me, either. The whole bunch of you can go do whatever you want and enjoy as many inches as you want, only without me. Leave me out of it and leave me out of this.” He gave us one last look then turned and left. I started to go after him, but Alan held my arm.

  "Give him some space. He'll come back once he's worked it out."

  I started to object, only I knew he was right. Maybe Ryan did need a break from us. It couldn't be easy to go through what he had been dealing with, especially when there didn't seem to be any easy way to convince people that one was really hetero
sexual without actually proving it the old-fashioned way.

  "Boy got issues.” Kim pulled a phone book off the shelf and started searching for the number to the restaurant.

  "This is kind of serious.” I shouldn't have to remind her. “His parents think he's gay."

  "But he's not,” she replied and continued scanning down one of the pages.

  "Excuse me, Miss Shoulder-Pads-Mistress-Wannabe. They think he is."

  "But he's not, Mr. Let's-Sample-Every-Ethnic-Race-On-Campus-Before-I-Graduate.” Kim glared at me. “I don't know why y'all are making such a big deal out of it. It's his life, not theirs, and not yours. Quit with the issues."

  "I don't have issues,” I retorted.

  "Tell her about the dream you had last night,” Alan chimed in.

  "You be quiet!” I whirled on him.

  "I'm sorry.” He faked a guilty look. “What was that you said to me earlier? Ribbit?"

  Okay, we both had something on each other that we didn't want getting out. Damn, he was good!

  "I want to make a toast tonight.” Kim came over and put her arms around Alan and me. “To the three of us and one absent friend, that we have a fantastic, satisfying and ultimately relaxing spring break."

  "That's really sweet, Miss Kim.” Alan put his arm around her.

  "So, are you and Andy going to see each other when you're back home?"

  "No,” I responded with a twinge of bitterness. “Mr. Thoughtful here has informed me he doesn't think it's a good idea that we get together over the break."

  "That's because you get weird when you talk about it.” Alan's brow furrowed. “I wouldn't mind if you made it sound like it would be a normal meeting between friends, but you start making that face and doing the I-want-to-make-out happy dance thing that you do, and I'm not sure my family is ready to see that yet."

  "This would be a normal meeting between friends,” I defended myself. “I thought maybe you'd come over so my parents could meet you and get to know you as my friend.” That sounded normal enough. “And when they left to go out to dinner one night, we could finally have sex."

  Alan's eyes nearly popped out of his head, and he turned bright red. Kim had herself a good laugh, though, and I was beaming.

  "And that,” he finally managed, “dear jurors, is why I strangled him..."