Attack of the Slash Bunnies
Disclaimer: Star War Episode I: The Phantom Menace is the property of Lucasfilm Ltd.
Opening scene - a dark air-conditioned room (a must when reading and writing slash fic!). Oodles of Phantom Menace stuff everywhere: The twelve-inch Qui-Gon, the Obi-Wan calendar, the door hanger, the can of Qui-Gon cola, the dark apprentice books and dozens of magazines and The Phantom Menace Visual Dictionary lie scattered in, around, and on a computer. The computer has Deejay's pic entitled Love as a desktop; the icons are all TPM; the sounds the computer makes are all TPM (especially that ::happy shivers:: "Yes Master" wav).
A lonely young Jedi Knight named Jedi-Angel (aka Tracey, aka Angel) sits in front of her computer typing away furiously while trying to read all the fantastic stories she's being bombarded with. She is trying desperately to get the Force to speak to her, but strangely enough, no 'First Lessons' are coming - her mind is blank, and she's almost ready to throw herself on the mercy of the ::gasp:: Dark Side! (Hey, Darth Maca-Rina, you listening? ::giggle::)
Suddenly - the door to her inner sanctum (now get your minds out of the gutters, boys and girls!) slides open, and in saunter Obi-Lust Kenobi and Qui-Oh My!-Gon, her heroes and favorite Jedi Slash bunnies.
"Where have you been?" our heroine wails in abject misery. "I've been trying and trying to come up with a mindless, non-angst ridden smut fest - but the Force doesn't hear me!"
Qui-Oh My!-Gon quickly walks over and places his massive hands on her shoulders in a soothing gesture. "There, there, our Jedi-Angel, we're back now; we had to get rid of that pesky Darth Maul person; we didn't want him scaring you." Qui-Oh My! tells her, with just a whisper of - yes, it is - an Irish accent peeping through.
Obi-Lust Kenobi moves sinuously over to join the Jedi-writer and his Master. "Yes, our Jedi-Angel, after all if that horrible red/black, icky person with a hairball for a pet scared you, Master and I would never do the deed!"
"Patience, Padawan," Qui-Oh My! cautions in that silky-smooth, baritone voice. "We don't want to give her performance anxiety; after all, we want this to be very good! And 'do the deed'? What sort of a euphemism is that for something that will rock both our galaxies, make us life-bonded partners for all eternity and give dozens of slash-fic readers a happy? You know, reader's like Holly and Heather and Chris (shudder Darth Maca-Rina), and Kristin and GlamonYa and Mona and all the other lovely, lovely people who help motivate our precious Jedi-Angel to write stories that require a remember to breath caution."
Instantly contrite, Obi-Lust gives our heroine a wickedly melty smile and a quick peck on the cheek (and his massive lover-man a firm pinch on that luscious tush, making him jump and squirm like a little girl). "You're right, Master, forgive me; it's just that I want you so bad, and she had me fantasizing about what it would be like for us to get our galaxies off when she had me in that shower - and, Sith-Spawn, I'm horny!"
"Ohhhh, Padawan, you're talking dirty. Now the only thing I need to find fulfillment is for you to show me your lightsaber!" Qui-Oh My! croons, wrapping his hugely huge arms around the writhing Padawan. "I'm afraid I have to agree with Obi-Lust this time, my Jedi-Angel: we need it bad!!"
"Well, damnit - then do something inspirational... no, wait... not on my bed!!! On second thought - mind if I come play too?"
Nite all - the slash bunnies are calling me END since 02-17-07