MST3K Digimon Lemonade Too! By James Reinbold Chapter 1: A Tale of a Sister's Bitterness by Jade Diamond Chapter 2: Anti-Me: Sound and Sweat by Pretty Pretty Princess Chapter 3: Our Rainfall by DigistarDBZ Chapter 4: It's All My Fault by Goldstar44 Chapter 5: Through Sickness and Health by Angeteen Chapter 6: Terriermon's Unusual Day by Gabumatic Chapter 7: White Ink by Libek Chapter 8: by Chapter 9: by Chapter 10: by (Doors open into the theater, where the next fanfic is already downloading. MIKE, TOM, and CROW enter and sit down.) TOM: I still say he's a dog! CROW: No one cares, man. TOM: I know, but I have to the last word. >DISCLAIMER: I don't own Digimon Adventure or Digimon Adventure 02. MIKE: I dumped my shares too early. >Toei Animation does. Right now, I think that everyone in this fic is very glad of it. CROW: Toei has a great portfolio. >When you've finished it, you might be glad, too. No copyright infringement intended. All rights reserved. TOM: Restrictions apply. Results may vary. MIKE: Many will enter, few will win. CROW: Offer not valid in Puerto Rico. Lather, rinse, repeat. >WARNINGS: Semi-noncon, CROW: I hate it already. >Seme!Taichi, and Girl!Yamato. TOM: This isn't a slash, it's an exclamation point. >(Yes, again. MIKE: The lesson: never learn from your mistakes. >I promise it's my last one! CROW: Yeah, that's what you said last time, and now look at you. >One whole fic, one lemon PWP...now I'm okay. MIKE: It's out of my system. I'm good. >None of the other fic ideas I have in my head involve gender-bending, okay?) TOM: Well, you're never going to get on Springer copping out like that. >FURTHER CAUTION: Although it's a Plot? What Plot?, sex is not the point of this lemon. The point is hurting you, the reader. MIKE: You know, every time I get a window into Pearl's thought processes, this is what I find staring back at me. TOM: Well, she is evil, Mike. She spawned old Doc Forrester. CROW: Imagine what dad was like. I'm guessing a werewolf. >This fic may rape your brain -- MIKE: Oh, yeah?! My brain knows kung fu! >though, to quote one of my RL friends, "But it's good taito, so sadly the rape was consensual." TOM: And we've always been at war with Eurasia. >A/N: This fic was inspired by going an entire day without sleep and then spending most of the following night reading yaoi doujinshi -- you know, where rape and sex are the same thing. CROW: It's times like this I'm glad most lemon writers are shut-ins. >It was further inspired by one panel in one of my taito doujinshi where it looks as if Yamato sprouted breasts, but you can't quite tell. MIKE: A lemon based on a Tijuana Bible. We're witnessing the start of a slash chain reaction! >While my friend's horny kitten howled at my door (she keeps going into heat because they can't afford to get her fixed, but she's young and stupid and doesn't really know what to do about it), TOM: Geez, call Bob Barker! He'll come over and do the job with his penknife. >I wrote down the basic outline and now I've fleshed it out properly -- CROW: I've got the bolts in the neck and everything. I'm just waiting for an electrical storm now. >if anything can be remotely proper about a fic like this. MIKE: When in doubt, make tea and cucumber sandwiches. They make anything proper. >White Ink CROW: Mike Nesmith's mom gets royalties from this. >by Libek TOM: Hey, this might actually be good! It's by the Gallery of Regrettable Food guy! MIKE: No, that's Lileks. This is Libek. TOM: Oh. Fudge. >Yamato stared at his best friend, caught between disbelief and... TOM: The Devil? CROW: The deep blue sea? >a vague sense of discomfort. MIKE: No, guys, it's the fish he had for lunch. >His thoughts lingered on the weird dream he'd had last night -- the one that he couldn't quite remember -- but he shook it off. CROW: Instead he turned his mind to finding where his pillow went, and why his mouth tasted of goosedown. >Clearing his throat, Yamato wondered if he hadn't misheard the other boy somehow. "Excuse me?" TOM (Yamato): Baking powder? > A smirk was Taichi's only response. No, he hadn't misheard anything. MIKE: Hey, Taichi! Smirk louder next time! > "But...that's it?" > "That's it." TOM (Yamato): S'okay? CROW (Taichi): S'alright. TOM (Yamato): S'alright? CROW (Taichi): S'okay. > The bet had lasted them almost six months -- longer than any of their other casual competitions. MIKE: Except that time they took up cricket. That game lasts forever. >Ever since a normal lunchtime conversation had somehow wandered around to the subject of their Crests, TOM: And whose was bigger. >and Taichi, seemingly at random, had remarked that he didn't think Love really suited Sora. CROW: But there is no Crest of Doormat, so she'd had to make do. >As her boyfriend, Yamato had, of course, felt a certain obligation to defend her -- MIKE: This fanfic has more dashes than Jesse Owens' career. >though at the time he'd been more confused than seriously angry. CROW: To be fair, that's Yamato at any given moment. TOM: It's a Ginsu world, and poor Yamato is a tomato. >He had thought Sora and Taichi were good friends, and even if the two of them had had a fight, surely Taichi knew better than to say something like that around him? MIKE: From his mouth to Sora's ear! > But the brunet was adamant. "Anyone else, Yamato. Hell, I bet even I could do a better job of it than she has." CROW (Taichi): And you know what a cock-up I am. > Being as this came from a boy who'd never held a steady relationship in his life, Yamato had laughed and challenged Taichi to give him one decent qualification. Taichi had. TOM: He earned a BA in love from Cal Poly. >Taichi had given him qualification in spades. MIKE: Play the trump card, Yamato! >Not that he'd believed it when his best friend had claimed to possess an uncanny knack for reading the hearts of other people. CROW: It's a handy little thing he calls a stethoscope. > "Couples are easy to predict," Taichi had said bluntly. TOM (Taichi): It's threesomes that are a challenge. >"Give me any two people, and I'll prove it to you." MIKE: Okay. Christina Ricci and Nelson Mandela. Go! > Since they needed to be people that both he and Taichi knew well enough to argue about, Yamato had picked two of the other Chosen Children: Koushirou and Mimi. CROW (Taichi): They're ten thousand miles apart and never speak to each other. It's like they're married already. >"Go ahead," he'd offered. "Tell me their future." TOM (Taichi): Koushirou is going on a long journey with a mysterious blonde woman. MIKE (Taichi): As for Mimi, answer unclear. Ask again later. > And the other boy had done exactly that. "I figure Koushirou's got one of those pathetic little crushes on Mimi-chan. CROW: Orange or strawberry? >She's a female and she tolerates his existence, therefore he thinks he's in love with her. TOM: Hey, you could use that to claim he's lusting for his homeroom teacher, or even his mom. This fortune sucks. >He's been screwing up his courage for years, MIKE: That's why it's in the shape it's in. >and this summer when she comes to visit us, he's going to ask her out on a date. CROW: Then he's going to ask her what a date is. >Being Mimi-chan, she'll squeal loudly, get all bubbly over the idea of a 'summer romance', and say yes." TOM (Taichi): Then she'll put on something pink, whine about how her feet hurt, and vanish from the episode while I hog the spotlight. > It really had made way too much sense, so much so that Yamato had paused before responding. "How long can that last, though?" CROW (Taichi): Me making sense? Not long. I'll be back to stupid in no time. > "Oh, not long." Taichi had shrugged, seemingly amused. MIKE (Taichi): Let's just say plutonium-243 has a longer half-life. >"I give it a couple of weeks before two things happen more or less at exactly the same time: Koushirou realizes he'd rather play The Sims than go on real dates, CROW: He's got one of those bootleg nude expansion packs. >and Mimi-chan decides that she'll get more pink sparkles out of a guy with an actual pulse." TOM: So Taichi's put down Sora, Mimi, and Koushirou in the first couple of pages. Why does anyone hang out with him? > "Harsh," Yamato had murmured. "But you're probably right." MIKE (Yamato): You, uh, don't have anything snotty to say about me, do you? > Never one to take a centimeter where he could take a kilometer, TOM: In English! CROW: Never one to take a dram where he could take a furlong.... >Taichi had immediately ordered him to admit that he'd been a fool to doubt the Almighty Yagami Power -- CROW: Or else he'd melt Yamato's face off. MIKE: Don't look directly at the Ark! >and, never one to back down once he'd foolishly committed himself, Yamato had just as quickly argued that one lucky guess didn't prove anything. TOM: Unless you're Nostradamus gibbering about lions in cages, then people will believe you for centuries. >Naturally, the other four sensible predictions that followed were also lucky guesses. CROW: Yamato's choices were Maya Angelou and Chief Joseph, Yahoo Serious and Margaret Thatcher, Liza Minelli and pretty much anybody, and me and Kim Cattrall. TOM (Taichi): All are doomed to failure! CROW: Why, you...! >That was when Taichi had suggested upping the stakes a little. MIKE: That's okay, but never buy the insurance. That's a sure loss. >Since neither of them had a source of income, exactly what this amounted to had never been made clear, but the blond had agreed to it regardless. TOM: It's so easy to bet money you don't have. >And, as the months passed and each prediction came true one after another, he had begun to dread this day. CROW: Taichi's got a real butch enforcer. > The day when Taichi decided to collect. TOM: He's got a Denver boot! Floor it! > However, faced with his best friend's worst, Yamato's first rush of embarrassment slowly faded to relief. CROW (Yamato): A pound of flesh about the heart? No big deal. >Cross-dressing was just...so unimaginative. MIKE: It's like soooo 1985. >If he'd been the winner, he would have had Taichi go around to all of the classrooms during lunch and profess his undying love to one of the girls in each. TOM: Is that all? I'd have had him profess his love for the assistant principal at assembly. >Though nowhere near his own popularity, Taichi was certainly well enough liked that most of the girls would happily agree to meet him after school in the park. CROW: Yeah, punish him with non-stop making out. That'll show him. >When compared to the wrath of an army of humiliated teenage girls, putting on a skirt for a little while seemed pretty weak. Too weak. MIKE: You can't even start to humiliate a friend of Taichi's with anything less than assless pants. >Yamato frowned. There had to be a catch somewhere. CROW (Taichi): The clasp broke. Hang on, I'll get you a safety pin. > "Not in public, right?" he asked, careful not to sound overly alarmed in case he had put his finger on it. "Like here at school or anything." TOM (Taichi): In public? Well, yes, but it's for a webcam, so it's not like you know these people. > "Of course not. This is a private show." MIKE (Taichi): You do know how to dance, right? >Taichi's smile was deeply unsettling. CROW (Yamato): Your teeth are orange. When did you brush last? >"Meet me back here when your last class gets outs. I want to get started as soon as possible." TOM (Taichi): I can't make Eagle Scout without it. > So he wandered through the rest of his day blindly, MIKE (Yamato): Bump, OW, bump, OW, bump, OW! >and returned to the front gate with his mind still whirling. There was something else. TOM: His stomach was whirling. >There had to be. Half a year, and all Taichi wanted for his trouble was a laugh? CROW: No one ever accused Taichi of forward thinking. >Yamato bit his lip uncertainly. MIKE: You'll chap yourself doing that. >When the brunet showed up, the first thing out of his mouth was: "Am I staying for dinner?" CROW (Yamato): Can we have chicken and dumplings? > "You're sleeping over. TOM (Yamato): Dibs on the top bunk! >Don't worry, it's all arranged. Mom called your father at work to make sure he didn't mind." MIKE (Mr. Ishida): Yeah, I don't mind him wearing women's clothes. He does it anyway. > That had potential. TOM: Pia Zadora had more, but still.... >"Are you going to make me sit at the table with your family?" CROW (Taichi): Nah, I got you a dog dish. > Again, Taichi only smiled. "I don't think that would work too good." MIKE (Taichi): Last time I invited another boy over to seduce him, Mom and Dad had a cow...I've said too much. >He started to leave, but walking backwards so that they were still facing each other. TOM: And backed into a light pole and knocked himself silly. >"Why don't you just ask me what I'm not telling you? I don't mind spoiling the surprise." CROW: This is why no one goes to the movies with you, Taichi. > Oh, no, Yamato thought. MIKE: It's Mr. Bill! >"I'll figure it out on my own." TOM (Yamato): I could use eight or nine direct hints, though. > "Just be a good girl," the other boy suggested mildly. "That's all I want from you." CROW (Taichi): Now, where'd I put my handcuffs? > In spite of his playful tone, there was a vaguely creepy edge to the words that made Yamato's returning glare uncertain. TOM: Y'know, Hitchcock set up suspense like this...when he was ordering his lunch. > They walked the rest of the way to the condominium in silence, and listened to other people's conversations in the elevator. CROW (Elevator passenger): So, I said to Mary Beth, "That's, like, totally untrue! She told me that she heard I was overheard saying what she said to me that day in gym class. And that isn't what I said!" >Even when Taichi fumbled with the keys to his own apartment, neither of them said anything. It was dark and empty inside. MIKE: Much like their souls. >Odd. Hikari got out earlier than either of them. CROW: No detention for her. >She should have been home by now. MIKE: With several of her friends to enjoy the show. >Taichi went down the hallway, flipping light switches here and there with the ease of casual familiarity, TOM: And not a thought in his head about the electricity he's wasting. >and Yamato stayed in the living room, trying not to notice how every added shaft of light only seemed to make the shadows that much deeper. TOM: How the hell does that work?! CROW: Either this is an awkward metaphor, or Yamato needs cataract surgery. > He didn't think he'd ever been alone with Taichi quite like this before. CROW: Ordinarily Taichi has to drag five other people everyplace he goes. >Those rare occasions when his best friend had the house to himself were always reserved for his girlfriend. MIKE: His girlfriend has never taken him up on this offer, but he's gotta try. >Of course, Taichi was between girlfriends right now (having dumped the last one after a new record of one entire month), but... TOM: ...this was Japan, where cheap, loose women come free in boxes of cereal. > "Are you just gonna stand there all night?" Taichi said, coming back to him at last. "C'mon. The outfit's in my room." CROW (Taichi): You can stand all night in there. > Briefly, Yamato fought the other boy's grip on his arm. TOM (Yamato): My blood pressure's normal. Leggo! >He wanted to know why Taichi hadn't told him they were going to be alone, but felt strangely reluctant to ask. MIKE (Yamato): I don't mind hanging out with Taichi, or him making a spectacle of me. But, man, I don't want to have to talk to him. >Either oblivious of or indifferent to his discomfort, the brunet dragged him down the hallway and didn't let go of him until they were on the threshold of his bedroom. CROW (Yamato): Carry me over, darling! >Yamato promptly covered his mouth, having been assaulted by the overpowering stench of dirty laundry. TOM: No, Yamato, cover your nose, and breathe through your mouth. It works better that way. >Taichi's room was never very clean at the best of times, but this was awful even for him. MIKE: Ew. Get the backhoe. >His clothes were scattered across the floor in little clumps, the hamper in one corner overflowing; CROW: One time I changed the hamper's food, and it left little piles everywhere, too. >there were CDs everywhere, in and out of their cases -- TOM: Looks like he's planning on evading a few speed traps. >even his videogame equipment, the one thing Taichi could be counted on to keep organized, was tangled up and gathering dust. CROW: He finally realized he'd never catch 'em all. > Something of the horror he felt must have shown on his face, because Taichi glanced over one shoulder and laughed. MIKE (Taichi): Yeah, I gave up. My princess was always in another castle. >"Sorry about the mess. Just sit on the bed and try not to touch anything else with your bare hands. TOM (Taichi): And if you do, go flush them in cold water immediately while I call poison control. >Mom brought me clean sheets this morning." CROW (Taichi): 'Cause I peed the bed again. I do that, y'know. > "I see," Yamato murmured, but he didn't really feel like sitting down right now (especially not on Taichi's bed), TOM: There's only so many things those stains may be, all of them disgusting. >so he stayed where he was and watched his best friend draw what looked like a girls' school uniform out of his closet. CROW (Taichi): Man, you should have heard the fit Mom pitched when I dragged this home. >It wasn't the one from Odaiba Senior High, and Yamato was just starting to wonder how Taichi had gotten his hands on it when the brunet turned around and stared at him. MIKE (Taichi): This was on sale. You take a size fourteen, right? > "Yamato, I told you to sit on the bed. Don't make me repeat myself." TOM (Taichi): Wait, I just did. I'm stupid. Sorry about that. > He blinked, somehow not really that surprised. Of course he had to do what the other boy said. CROW: Tell him to clean your room, Taichi. >This was, after all, a modified slave-for-the-day agreement. MIKE: His name's Toby now. >Yamato sat. TOM (Yamato): Where the hell is Abraham Lincoln when you really need him? > "Better." Taichi nodded, and brought the uniform over to him. MIKE (Taichi): Now, I know beige isn't your color.... >"Here, go put this on. TOM (Yamato): But I'm allergic to linen! >You can use the bathroom if you like. CROW (Taichi): Don't forget to flush. >Come back as soon as you're done, and don't keep me waiting too long." MIKE (Yamato): Sit down, stand up, go away, come back, DECIDE ALREADY! > "You don't want to watch me change?" he responded playfully, already heading out of the room. TOM (Yamato): I wore my banana sling for you! > "No." The other boy's voice was completely flat. "I don't." CROW (Taichi): Let's get this over with, okay? If I don't get this room picked up by six, I lose an allowance. > Yamato hesitated, but when Taichi didn't add anything else to that, he kept going. The sooner he changed, the sooner Taichi would let him go home, he figured. MIKE: And the sooner Taichi let him leave, the sooner he could go back to his empty apartment to do all the cooking and cleaning for his workaholic dad, and wonder what direction his life was taking, anyway. >But when he held that outfit up to the light, the blond suddenly realized that it wasn't a real uniform at all. TOM: It was a one-of-a-kind Bob Mackie. >Even abbreviated sailor uniforms were never this skimpy. For god's sake, the skirt would barely cover his ass. CROW: And that's his worst feature. >Taichi must've picked it up in one of those stores that sold used panties. MIKE: Goodwill? TOM: Explains the stench in Taichi's room. >Quickly, Yamato checked the inside of the skirt, but if it had been stained, it was clean enough now. CROW: That doesn't make the yellow and brown color scheme any less worrying. >The blond sighed in relief, and yanked the blouse on over his head, silently promising to never make another bet with Taichi as long as he lived. TOM: Five will get you ten he breaks that promise. >Unimaginative or not, public or not, this was still going to be really humiliating. MIKE: And this is for the guy who's getting steamrolled by Daisuke's sister. > Once Yamato had finished (with everything he intended to wear -- the panties were a definite 'no', MIKE: Somebody's feeling trampy today! >and he wasn't even sure how a person got into stockings), CROW: He doesn't know how socks work? Now I know how he got into this situation. >he went back to Taichi's bedroom and found the other boy watching the clock on his bedside table. (MIKE, TOM, and CROW hum the thinking music from Jeopardy!) >He must have taken longer than he was supposed to. "Sorry. I got dressed as fast as I could." MIKE (Yamato): Can you zip me up? > What sounded like an indifferent snort. TOM: Sorry, that was me! >"Where's the rest of it?" CROW (Yamato): Well, the purse clashed, and I can't wear stilletos. > "On the bathroom floor," Yamato admitted slowly. MIKE (Yamato): It's all going to end up there anyway. Thought it would save time. > The total lack of interest was sort of insulting. Six months, for this? CROW: So much for that crash diet. >"The, uh...the underwear looked too small for me anyway." TOM (Yamato): Honestly, I could truss myself with dental floss and it would be more comfortable. > His best friend nodded. "Lie down. I want to get a good look at you." CROW (Yamato): But I'm allergic to dirty laundry! > Mouth already open to ask what was wrong with the view from where he was, Yamato thought better of it. If he made this difficult, what kept Taichi from calling the bet slave-for-the-month instead? MIKE: And what's keeping Yamato from socking Taichi in the jaw and leaving? >It wasn't like they had been very specific when they made the agreement. CROW (Judge Judy): Then it's not a legally binding contract. Don't pee on my leg and tell me it's raining, fanfic! >"Fine," he said, crossing the room to join Taichi on his bed. TOM (Yamato): Is this bedspread chenille? It's so soft! > For a long moment, the brunet didn't move. Then he turned, and gazed at Yamato thoughtfully. "Not bad," he murmured appreciatively. MIKE (Taichi): We're done. Peanut butter sandwich? >"Not bad at all. Roll over." CROW (Yamato): What, without a treat? > Moving his eyes as much as his body, Yamato complied. "Happy now?" TOM (Taichi): Good boy! Now play dead! > "Almost." One of Taichi's hands landed on his thigh, and he jumped. CROW (Yamato): You don't have clearance to land! >"You're completely flat, of course, but we can fix that." TOM (Yamato): Yeah? You're no house afire. >The hand wandered a little higher, smoothing his skirt, and lingered there just long enough to make Yamato feel distinctly uncomfortable. "Nice ass." MIKE (Yamato): But I'm allergic to pervos! > "What -- " He jerked around, but the faint smirk on his best friend's face wasn't particularly reassuring. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" CROW: Looks like the backstroke. TOM: Working up to the breaststroke. MIKE: I'm hoping against hope they skip freestyle. > The brunet's smirk faded away, and he rubbed a thumb over Yamato's lower lip, disconcerting him like hell. CROW (Taichi): Sorry, you got a little schmutz there. > "Shh. You're supposed to be a good girl, remember?" TOM (Yamato): Fine. I'll knee you in the crotch and leave. That okay, date rapist? > Incredulous, Yamato spluttered. "Taichi, you practically grabbed my ass! MIKE (Yamato): Get it right next time! >Most girls would hit you for something like that." TOM: Most girls would hit him for being within five hundred miles of them. >Screw this. Bet or no bet, he was getting out of here. CROW: Dressed like that? > But when he tried to sit up, Taichi shoved him back down again. "Ah, but I've got a specific girl in mind. CROW (Taichi): One who's not real choosy. >You look a lot like her, you know. TOM: She must have frizzy hair and a love of sleeveless sweaters. >If you'd just be quiet, I bet I wouldn't be able to tell the difference." MIKE: Uh, asking your date to just lie there is not the mark of a great lover, Taichi. >His voice roughened. "Care to find out?" CROW (Yamato): Eh, I think I'll pass. She doesn't sound like your type anyway. Have you considered dating a loquacious redhead who doesn't know how to sing? > Everything inside of Yamato froze at those words. TOM: Toss him in the microwave! >He knew Taichi was kissing him, could feel the other boy's tongue brush his lips and then force them apart, MIKE: You could crack walnuts with a tongue that strong. >but at the same time it didn't seem to be happening to him, or even to anybody he gave a damn about. No, he wasn't the one being molested. CROW: It was Sybil. TOM: Or Eve Black. >He could turn and walk away anytime he chose. Only, for some reason, he didn't feel like walking away. For some reason, he was staying to watch the show. CROW: He made these reservations months ago! > Now Taichi's hands were moving up and down his flanks, and sort of tickling him. Then one of them wandered higher, fondling his hair, and the other danced briefly over his chest. MIKE: Then one hand burrowed a nest in his ear, and the other marked its territory on his stomach. >That hand paused; it recoiled. TOM (Taichi): Yuck! I never knew you had a third nipple! Disgusting! >He took a minute to realize that Taichi's weight had left his body -- another minute to wonder whether this whole thing had ended as suddenly as it had begun -- CROW: Another minute for his brains to freeze up and leave him gaping stupidly once more -- >and just as his mind decided it was worth the risk to return, the brunet was on top of him again, shoving his blouse up around his armpits. MIKE (Taichi): WHOA! Ever hear of deodorant? Whew! >This time, he struggled. Taichi caught his wrists so easily that he might just as well not have bothered. TOM: And with a wrist in each hand, Taichi's assault grinds to a halt. > "I thought you were going to leave me alone," Yamato growled. CROW (Yamato): Most dates that feel up my scrawny body just walk away. > Soft laughter. "Not a chance. You just surprised me, that's all. TOM (Taichi): You're such a wimp, I wasn't expecting you to fight back. >You're the girliest boy in Odaiba, Yamato-chan, but it's not enough. Not nearly enough." CROW (Yamato): You're sending me home? Thank God. By the way, I don't like you anymore. > A wave of fresh panic surged through his body. MIKE: Suuurge! >"The fuck are you talking about? TOM: I sure hope not! >What's not enough?" CROW: Seven. But eight is. > "Everything." MIKE (Taichi): I'm needy that way. > Maybe it was the fear. Maybe the look in Taichi's eyes had paralyzed him, like a rabbit staring into the headlights of an oncoming car. TOM: I hope this rabbit simile ends here and we don't have to see his guts flying all over the place when the truck hits him. >But whatever the reason, all he could do was stare while the brunet let go of his wrists and reached down to pinch his nipples instead. MIKE (Taichi): Purple nurple! >At first, the only thing he knew was pain -- but somewhere in the sharpness of that pain, there was a spark of something different. CROW: A pain of something vague and ill-defined, a spark that won't be explained for another eighteen pages. >And Yamato found, as the spark began to burn, that he could not stop whimpering. He tried shutting his mouth, but all that did was muffle it slightly. TOM: You can whimper with your mouth open? I didn't know that. You learn something new everyday. > He felt so weak. So terribly weak. Even breathing was difficult. MIKE: And forming complete sentences? Out of the question! >Pushing Taichi away would have been more than he could handle. TOM: Fart on him. That'll do it. >And the weird spark was really starting to feel good. Better than he would've liked to admit. MIKE: I sense a body piercing in an unlikely place in Yamato's future. >The warmth of it spread all over his body, and then beyond, following Taichi's hands as they retreated. CROW: Taichi's overextended his supply lines. >Was he sitting up? Why would he have been sitting up? TOM: And how could he be sitting up? He'd bang his head on the top bunk. >Then Taichi released him, and he landed hard on his back, nipples aching. MIKE (Yamato): Owwww! If you want a glass of milk, go check the fridge! Jesus! > "That's better," the other boy remarked. "Definitely an improvement." CROW (Taichi): Now, a noogie! > Confused, Yamato looked down at himself, and gaped. "What...how..." he whispered disbelievingly, voice cracking as he tried to process what had obviously happened. TOM: So obvious that I don't got no clue. >"You..." His voice cracked again, and the blond realized suddenly that it was more than just nerves. CROW (Yamato): Ah, man, what a time to hit puberty. >He had gone from a tenor to an alto in seconds. MIKE (Yamato): You've got your knee in my junk! MOVE! >"I don't..." TOM (Yamato): If...But...That's...Hey...Don't...Cheese! > "Understand?" Taichi looked amused. "That's okay. Nobody asked you to. CROW (Taichi): Everyone knows what to expect from you in the smarts department. >All you're supposed to do is lie still and be quiet." MIKE: Our writer does have the male point of view down well.... > Before he could think of a proper response, Taichi was kissing him again -- and cupping one of the breasts that had somehow been drawn out of his body. Oh, god... MIKE (Yamato): Now I need monthly mammograms! >He heard himself moaning softly, and blushed. For one brief moment, the blond considered kissing back. Taichi's hands were so warm, and his new breasts so sensitive. CROW: He didn't turn into a woman. He turned into the Female Eunuch. >All of the blood drained slowly out of his face, and rushed between his legs instead. TOM: His body is rejecting his head. > The hell? Why didn't he get rid of that? I thought he wanted me to be a girl... CROW: He does know the difference, right? MIKE: Maybe not. You never can tell with Taichi. > No sooner had Yamato had this thought then Taichi pressed their bodies together and kissed him hard. His mind went completely blank, TOM: Short trip. >and when he moaned this time, it was thick and involuntary. He didn't even notice at first when the brunet ripped away from him as though he'd caught fire. MIKE (Taichi): Ew, gross, you're getting off on this! Man, you're no fun. >Even as he got his breath back and focused his eyes, seeing the disgust on Taichi's face only reminded him of his own, and so Yamato's response was to get on his hands and knees. CROW (Yamato): This is dumb. Wanna play horsie instead? >He'd intended to make a run for it, but the other boy was undaunted and simply grabbed hold of his waist. TOM (Taichi): Nah, leapfrog's more fun. Wheeeee! > "What...what are you...doing?" Yamato gasped out. Against the exposed flesh of his back, scratchy cotton from one of the school shirts that he was all-too familiar with. On his belly, greedy fingers. MIKE: In his skull, a tiny brain rattling around like a pea in a whistle. > "Finishing what I've started," was the heated reply, and Taichi flicked the skirt out of his way. TOM (Taichi): Ooh. This won't take long. Sorry about staring, I didn't know they came that small.... > He couldn't breathe. CROW: He asphyxiated and died. The End. >Not with Taichi's hand in his boxers, thumb and forefinger rubbing the swollen head of his erection. MIKE (Yamato): Ow! That infection's a little tender yet, so leave it alone. >Fuck. Fuck. TOM: Nuh-uh! MIKE: No way! CROW: Forget it, fanfic! >It wasn't his first handjob, not by any stretch of the imagination, but they'd always been from girls, and girls never knew what the hell they were doing. CROW: Yeah, they're only good at math and graduating college. >This was so much more intense. Too intense. TOM: Intensity in ten cities! >His cheeks grew hot, his eyes narrowed to watery slits, and he was conscious of tilting his head back in slow-motion, clenching the sheets in his hands, and feeling Taichi's kisses on his neck before he came. TOM: Already? MIKE: Yeah, and in slo-mo, too. CROW: Realtime must be one big, spoogy blur. > "I can't believe you did that," the brunet muttered, sounding very far away. "I barely even touched it, and..." MIKE (Yamato): Yeah, I know, I was early. You don't have to tell the whole world about it. > There was something in his tone of voice that made Yamato look at him curiously. If he hadn't been so lightheaded from his orgasm, he might have realized what a stupid thing that was to do. MIKE: It's the same principle behind not staring at strange dogs. You never know if they'll bite. >The only thing he saw was the back of Taichi's hand as the other boy wound up and slapped him hard enough to turn his head, leaving streaks of cum behind. That same hand pressed tight over his mouth, as though Taichi thought he might scream. He wouldn't have. TOM: Um, Mike? We're still new to this human sexuality thing. Ah, are we supposed to enjoy this? CROW: Yeah, one kid lays there like roadkill, the other kid's slapping him or sneering, I mean where's the fun? MIKE: I don't know! I'm not gay. Leave me alone. >He didn't want any of the neighbors to come running and see him like this. TOM: Don't worry, I doubt anyone could come from seeing this. >Wouldn't they wonder why he hadn't been able to fend Taichi off? CROW: I think they'd be more interested in learning where the boy got boobies. > "Well?" MIKE: Ronald Reagan? What are you doing here? > Still disoriented, Yamato blinked. He didn't understand. Well, what? MIKE: Naaah, he's not better off now than he was four years ago. > "Aren't you going to clean my hand?" TOM (Yamato): Sure! I got a moist towelette at my apartment. See you in about five years. >Hissing, vicious, and slightly impatient. CROW: That's our little Taichi! >"This is your mess, isn't it? So take care of it." MIKE (Yamato): Fine. This room is your mess. Start picking up your damn stinking laundry. > Fingers pried his mouth open, stroking his tongue and his teeth. MIKE: Geez, you could bite him, Yamato. >He sucked on them automatically. TOM: C'mon already! BITE HIM! >The reaction embarrassed him, but Taichi seemed to think it was awfully funny. CROW: One big CHOMP and you're free! >He should have said something -- should have done something -- to show that he didn't appreciate being laughed at. TOM: That would be BITING! CROW: Teeth, do your thing! >Something to keep Taichi from thinking he could get away with that kind of treatment. TOM and CROW: Stand up! Sit down! BITE! BITE! BITE! >He didn't, and the brunet's other hand made its way down the length of his body once more. MIKE (Taichi): Wow, for a minute there I thought you were going to bite my fingers. (TOM and CROW grunt in frustration.) > "Jeez! Great recovery." TOM (Taichi): You got the rebound and the assist! >The other boy -- if Yamato could really call himself a boy any longer -- CROW: Come on, Yamato. You gotta be proud o' the man-boobies! >almost sounded dismayed "You're not a virgin, are you? MIKE (Yamato): Not as a boy, you moron. >Not that I want details. Just nod or shake your head." TOM (Taichi): And how many times? Stomp your hoof for each one. > Slowly, almost against his will, Yamato shook his head. Why was he answering honestly? CROW: Because the whole school already knows he's easy? >It wouldn't change anything, and he hadn't wanted Taichi to know about that. MIKE: Taichi's the Walter Winchell of the tenth grade. >He hadn't wanted anyone to know. TOM: Uh-huh, teenage boys are real careful about their reputations. >Sora had made him promise to keep their 'indiscretions' a secret... CROW (Sora): You know I love you, honey, but my social life can't take me dating the class dweeb. > "Good." > Startled, he could only repeat the word weakly. "Good?" TOM (Yamato): Do you have any idea how many social diseases I might have? > "Yeah. No offense or anything, but I don't really have the patience to break in a virgin right now." MIKE: He could call in a virgin whisperer. > Between his legs, what had been a gentle, rhythmic tugging sharpened -- became almost painful -- and Yamato recognized the very same faint spark of something different. CROW: Man, the attention to detail in this work is astounding! >The change happened faster this time, so fast that it made him ache on the inside. MIKE: Jesus, it's making me ache! Owwww! CROW: Man, you humans. Always so sensitive about your genitals. TOM: I'm glad I don't have any...I think. >He barely even had time to cry out before Taichi had shoved the last vestige of his masculinity deep into his belly. TOM: Still, castration's less humiliating than working for a temp agency. >Again, there was pleasure in the wake of Yamato's pain, and she opened her eyes to the brunet's soft laughter. MIKE (Yamato): Okay, laughing boy. YOUR TURN! > "What do you know," Taichi murmured. "It worked..." TOM (Taichi): I mean, the breast thing was a given, but this was just an experiment.... > Did she care what he meant by that? No. CROW: She cared only for REVENGE! >She had gotten past the point of such idle curiosity ages ago. TOM: Except she now wanted to know what shade of pink the inside of Taichi's skull is. MIKE: Yeah, who's got the gimlet? >All that existed in the world was this moment and the bed underneath her new body. CROW: And the invisible monster under it. >Yamato couldn't bear trying to think of anything else. TOM: Should we make this joke again? CROW: We've done it already. Best not to overdo. >If the now horrified her beyond all reason, at least it had rendered her numb. TOM: The child is grown. CROW: The dream is gone. MIKE: I have become comfortably numb. >But tomorrow...tomorrow, there would be repercussions. MIKE: She'll lose her amateur standing, for one. CROW: And go back three spaces. TOM: And no dessert for a week. >Her father's tired eyes. Her baby brother's denial. TOM: Her mother's surreptitious cackling. >Police officers making her relive every moment of this. MIKE: Hey, cops need laughs, too! >Therapy so that she wouldn't quiver in the dark. TOM: Therapy to get over the therapy. MIKE: Therapy to get over that therapy. CROW: More therapy on top of that therapy. Quite a racket, therapy. >New horrors, fresh horrors, tearing the wound open over and over again. CROW: And still not enough horror to steal top billing in the Weekly World News away from Batboy. >And somehow, ridiculously, losing Taichi's friendship was worse than anything else. MIKE: But what's a little sexual assault between friends? > When Taichi leaned down to inspect his work, TOM: They don't say Hanes until Taichi says they say Hanes. >the blonde turned her head aside and watched the shadows his blinds made on the far wall. MIKE (Yamato): It's like a zebra, but made of light. >She listened to him mutter indistinctly that this was most satisfactory, and tried desperately not to close her eyes when he sat up once more. CROW: Sounded pretty distinct to me. > As much as Yamato didn't want to see that strange, hungry expression, she knew that it was branded on the insides of her eyelids -- traces of neon and the bright holes in his face that were his eyes. TOM: She's being attacked by a Vegas casino. >So she stared at the wall until her eyes watered, waiting for the pain of his entry, the embarrassment that would be his fuck, and the fear that overwhelmed her at the thought of what would happen when he stopped. MIKE: Something more is coming? What, there's going to be a quiz afterward? TOM: Is he going to talk to her about Dianetics? CROW: He'll tell her he helped Bush steal the election? > She had never expected to enjoy it. MIKE: Well, it's not tests or Scientology or Mussolini-style dictatorship, but that's rotten, too. > The word 'sex' had always meant something slow and calculated with Sora. MIKE: And she had this strange idea it was supposed to be fun, too. >Her hands on the door to her room, carefully turning the lock so that he would be sure to notice. TOM (Sora): Oh, darn, you're supposed to be on the other side. >His hands on her body, peeling the layers of clothing away one at a time. CROW (Yamato): One, two. That was hard. >That wetness in her panties as he tugged them off that always surprised and somehow disturbed him. MIKE: Sora buys the cheapy tampons. >Sora on her back, drawing him to her, and then nothing but numbers in his head as he counted the thrusts until she came. TOM: And people say accountants are boring. >The higher the number, the better the sex. CROW: One time they got all the way up to five. >It was simple and mechanical and comforting and peaceful and really sort of boring. MIKE: So the woman is satisfied by the sex, and the man isn't? Yep. This is a work of pure fiction, all right. > Taichi's definition of sex was obviously a little different. TOM: Bad, for instance. >This was faster, harder, almost brutal -- and passionate. Horribly, desperately passionate. CROW: So passionate he's expressed no emotion in this fic so far. >Yamato kept her eyes riveted on the far wall and bit her lips to keep from screaming because the scream that wanted to tear from her throat would have been the wrong kind. MIKE: It sounds like Tarzan's. >Why didn't it hurt? Was she really that wet? TOM: She does strike me as a bit of a wet fish. >Enough that he could fuck her thoughtlessly like this without ever bothering to slow down? Enough that it almost felt good when he did... CROW: When Taichi was eliminating body parts, did he take her spine out, too, without my noticing? > No. No. MIKE: It's "The Land of 1,000 Dances!" No. No, no. No, no, NO, no. No, no. No. No, no, no! >She couldn't like this. TOM: Nobody else does. >She couldn't. It was rape. CROW: And poorly written, too. >Forget that she could barely even breathe without moaning. Forget how utterly incredible Taichi's dick felt inside her. TOM: Forget your multiplication tables, you've got a calculator now. >You weren't supposed to enjoy being raped. You just weren't. MIKE: No matter what Clayton Williams says. TOM and CROW: Who? > "But you are, aren't you?" he whispered, right against her ear so that she shivered. CROW: (Yamato): Ow, I'm not deaf! Tone it down. >Laughing quietly, as if he'd read her mind and seen the dirty little thought there; sucking gently on her earlobe while he waited for an answer. TOM: Yuck, earwax! > An answer he would never get, if Yamato had any say in the matter. Not that she'd had much of a say in anything so far, admittedly. MIKE: He/She has been Czechoslavakia to Taichi's Hitler up till now. Taichi's evil, evil Hitler. >And the way he was massaging her breasts suddenly prevented any coherent thoughts. CROW: Beyond "Ew!" and "Ick!" and "Are you mental?" >His hands were calloused and slick with sweat, but she felt feverish when he ran them even briefly over her bare skin. TOM (Yamato): Stop it, you're giving me flu-like symptoms! >Going as far as pinching one of her nipples left her gasping helplessly for breath. CROW: Could that be because her nipples were just squished like bugs? > "Say it." MIKE: Antidisestablishmentarianism? >Despite the commanding tone, the words were flat -- almost indifferent-sounding. How could he do this to her when he didn't even care? "Say it!" CROW (Yamato): Well, show me a flash card or something. I'm not the Amazing Kreskin. > She opened her mouth to reply, not quite sure what was going to come out, TOM: Last night's meatloaf, maybe? >and moaned sharply as he ran his fingers down her belly, squeezing the little nub of sensitive flesh that Sora had called a clitoris. MIKE: Sora's up on all this girly stuff. TOM: She's got an E-Z Bake Oven. > More quiet laughter. "Is that a yes, Yamato-chan?" CROW: (Yamato): No, it's a clitoris, you pea brain. Talk to Sora sometime. > With her last remaining shred of self-control, she shook her head. TOM: And with her self-control gone, Yamato leaped into action! Moments later, as she surveyed the scene of carnage in her wake, Yamato adjusted her broken bra strap and threw away her badge, saying, "From now on, Justice comes the hard way, with a side order of whoopass!" > Everything stopped when he pulled out. Yamato whimpered, even knowing that it was the wrong thing to do -- the wrong way to react -- and stared up at Taichi as his expression hardened. MIKE: Oh, real smart, Taichi. You turn her into a girl, and it has to be Medusa. >Then he seemed to smile with his eyes alone, and abruptly grabbed hold of her shoulders so that he could force her onto her back instead of her stomach. Taichi kept doing that -- manhandling her, as if she were a pretty but unusually stupid animal. CROW: You mean like Siegfried and Roy? Mainly Roy. TOM: Me-ouch! >As if she were a doll with stiff plastic joints. MIKE: As if she were...Barbie. Hey, Barbie doesn't have genitals! > In turn, she didn't fight when the brunet spread her legs or lifted up her skirt. TOM: He's just now getting to this? I thought he was jammed up by her appendix by now. >This was partly from the horrible sense of inevitability that the entire thing had taken on, CROW: Calvinist porn! >but at that moment, as he swept his thumb over her moist sex and Yamato realized that what she wanted more than anything was for him to shove that entire hand inside of her...at that moment, she didn't care. TOM: Okay, what woman likes this? Is there some chick out there who likes her gynecological exam this much? >There would be time later to regret what she was about to do, but right now... MIKE: Bon Jovi's doing a Pepsi ad. > He had said he didn't like to repeat himself, and he didn't ask her if she was enjoying herself again. TOM: At least he's consistent. The consistency of overcooked oatmeal, yeah, but still.... >Instead, he leaned down so that their noses brushed together and looked into her eyes expectantly. MIKE: Hey, an Eskimo kiss! Never seen that in a fanfic before. >His dark skin glistened in the half-light, and a slightly sour musky smell choked her. CROW: (Yamato): Bad enough you rape me, do you have to let one, too? >She thought of all the laundry, the dust, the filth that surrounded them -- and the decadence of being taken in the midst of it. TOM: No cashmere underwear, no hundred-year-old champagne, no last of an endangered species to dine on, this scene is real short on decadence. > He hadn't undressed her, and he wouldn't. MIKE: He had enough problems getting the bras of real girls off. Taichi doesn't need the humiliation of missing second base with a guy. >She should have felt repulsed and insulted, demeaned and violated. She did. She should have pushed him away. CROW: But Yamato was taught to clean her plate when she finished a meal. > So why then were her arms twining themselves around his neck? Why, instead, was she drawing his ear to her mouth and saying everything he wanted to hear? Why did being dirty make her feel so good? TOM: Why is the sky blue? CROW: Why did the chicken cross the road? MIKE: Why do birds suddenly appear every time you are near? > Yamato thought she knew. Five years of being perfect. MIKE: You know, I could be really happy with perfection. Give me five minutes of perfection and I'll shut up for a decade or two. >Of Sora, and cookies, and sunlight, and making love in her bedroom with stuffed animals on the windowsill and glossy, airbrushed posters of his own face on the wall. CROW: It's hard to make out in an FAO Schwarz. >Of taking three showers every day so that he would never for a moment smell anything like himself. TOM: I think he got the wrong idea from those Herbal Essence shampoo ads. >With never a pause to fantasize or masturbate so that it all built up in the dreams he'd have sometimes. MIKE: Dreams where he never bathed and stank like a pig eating a week-old dead skunk with lots of garlic.... >Dreams he would then carefully forget. MIKE: Did I ever tell you I dreamed about a helicopter crashing into a dam? TOM: Not that damn dream again, Mike. CROW: Be more careful next time. > "Yes," the blonde admitted. "I'm enjoying this." CROW: Well, you're the only one. > She felt more than heard her best friend's mocking laughter as he went to kiss her throat, MIKE: And then his fangs sank into her neck and drained all the blood from her body. >and tightened her grip, pulling him closer, forcing him to let her keep going. CROW: Hey, who's forcing who? I'm all confused! >At least if she said it, someone would understand. TOM: Look! Someone understands! Maybe they can explain it to us! >At least then someone -- anyone -- would understand. CROW: C'mon, tell us who! It sure ain't one of us! > "I wasn't finished." MIKE (Taichi): You are now. Bye! > His dark eyes widened, just a fraction, and she took pleasure in surprising him. CROW: She's going to get him a fruit basket next week, huh? >He, who probably knew her better than anyone else. TOM: More than his mom or his dad or his kid brother? Man, no wonder this kid is screwed up. > "I want more, Taichi. All that you can give me. MIKE (Yamato): You might want to take out a loan. >As hard as you can make it. CROW (Yamato): Just like your head. >Hurt me if you have to, but don't stop. Whatever you do, don't stop." TOM and CROW (Fleetwood Mac): Thinkin' about tomorrow! Don't! Stop! It'll soon be here! > Amusement flickered and kindled in his face, MIKE: Whoo-hoo! Get the marshmallows! >but the surprise stayed right where it was -- mutating into a strange sort of awe. CROW: The kind with gills and extra eyes. >"Well, well. Under all of that meticulously-styled hair and ball-breaking attitude, you're just another little slut, aren't you? TOM: This from the oversexed tough kid with hair that needs its own warning lights. >Waiting for some jock to rip your panties off and fuck you raw..." CROW: Do spindly soccer players really count as jocks? > "No, Taichi." Again, she pulled him close. MIKE (Yamato): I love it when you call me a slut. >Stuck her tongue down his throat and listened to him groan softly in response. CROW (Yamato): What's that I taste? Did you have Italian for lunch? MIKE: All the way down? Is she part chameleon or something? TOM: Too bad there's not a razor blade tied to that thing. >"Not some jock. You." MIKE (Yamato): Pasty, knock-kneed you! >His taste still lingered on her lips. TOM: Blech, ptui, ptui! >Wonderful and foreign and not like Sora at all. MIKE: Sora's a cheap domestic. >"It has to be you." MIKE, TOM, and CROW: I wandered around, and finally found, the somebody whooooo, could make me be truuuuue.... > If anything, the sex was faster this time. CROW: Hit Star-55, this guy is way over the speed limit. >Harsher. TOM: Lamer. Dumber. >Maybe Taichi had a better angle with her flat on her back, MIKE: As evidenced by the protractor he's wielding. >or maybe he just had more motivation. CROW: Only Taichi could make sex a Stanislavski moment. >Whatever the reason, they had gone from a desperate in, out, in, out TOM (John McEnroe): What do you mean, out?! That was in, goddammit! IN! >to something she could only describe as in, in, in, in. CROW: Kinda like the opening to Get Smart! >There was no pause, no hesitation, just the slap of his belly against her thighs and the clean sheets rippling around their bodies as he drove her deeper and deeper into his mattress. MIKE (Yamato): Hey, not into the box springs! My back! Ow! >She realized that she was holding her breath and let it out with difficulty. Dug her fingernails into his back and closed her eyes as they filled with frenzied, emotionless tears. CROW: Great literature stirs the emotions. This couldn't stir cake batter. > But it wasn't enough. She wanted him harder, needed him deeper, and couldn't for the life of her think how to accomplish that. TOM: A bullet between the eyes would get him hard and deep enough for me. >Even as the pleasure welled up inside of her, as Taichi grunted out a warning that he was getting close, still she'd thought of nothing. MIKE: The gender may be different, but the brain remains the same. >Yamato began to panic then. She was going to come, without ever once feeling satisfied. It would simply end, as it always did with Sora. CROW (Groucho Marx): Sometimes I just love it when it ends. >And the brunet went ever faster. TOM: And by now, he's rubbed all the skin of her naughty bits. > "Ta - Taichi..." It came out sounding ragged and distorted, not like her own voice at all. "No...please..." CROW (Yamato): It's too fast! I'm getting motion sickness! Ulp.... > He didn't stop, didn't slow, just laughed a low, gravelly laugh. "S' little -- too -- late t' change -- your mind -- now." MIKE: Are you putting on a high school play? Talk normally! > "Not...not changing...my mind. But you're gonna...gonna make me...and I st - still need...more..." TOM (Yamato): I...need...that homework...assignment...I missed...last week...when I was at...the dentist. CROW (Taichi): It's an essay -- on the French Revolution -- in five hundred words -- and it's due -- Friday. > What was she doing, asking for that? How could she expect Taichi to know what she wanted when even she wasn't sure? MIKE: Did it matter, when it clearly wouldn't concern him? > Not that he hadn't done it before. CROW: Not that he hadn't loused it up. > Not that he couldn't do it again. CROW: Not that he couldn't louse it up again, either. > Taichi's eyes glittered dangerously. TOM: With a snarl his eyes charged from the brush and dragged a bearer to his doom! >She felt his hands sliding down from her thighs to her knees, and lifting them. She felt his erection slipping from her sex. MIKE (Taichi): We're losing traction. Pop the trunk and I'll get the kitty litter. >She felt him rolling her hips back, guiding her legs to rest on his shoulders -- and that was all the warning she had before he was thrusting so hard against that other entrance to her body that he broke right through its tight ring of muscle. CROW (Yamato): Hey! What was the point of turning me into a girl if you were just going to do that, anyway? Moron. TOM (Johnny Cash): I fell into a burnin' ring of muscle.... >She screamed then, couldn't help it. MIKE: Anyone else want to scream? TOM: Maybe later. CROW: Eh. Will a yawn do? >Pain had never felt so good. TOM: Why does this sound like a John Cougar Mellencamp song? MIKE: Because it's painful, and self-important, and it doesn't end fast enough? >This was it. This was what she needed. CROW: Wrong! No! She can't enjoy this, she doesn't have a prostate anymore! TOM: Well, Taichi didn't push on his rear. Maybe he forgot and left the prostate. >Even though she knew she wouldn't last long, could sense Taichi trembling above her, those last few strokes made all the difference in the world. CROW: His voice changed too, and Taichi hasn't been anywhere near his throat. TOM: True. Could be a simple mistake on the fanfic's part. > Orgasm hit Yamato first. MIKE: There's a line of disgruntled readers behind it. >It arched her back and wrung the last breath from her throat. Much more intense than she would have expected as a woman, and better than anything she'd ever felt as a man. CROW: Somewhere there's a Greek goddess with Yamato's name on a thunderbolt. TOM: I just thought it was the end of Tootsie. >It curled her toes and made her whimper, the immediate rush leveling into a gentler warmth that spread slowly from her groin to the rest of her body. TOM: New DURAGROIN. From the makers of Kingsford Charcoal. >For a while, she could still feel Taichi moving in and out, but then it faded to just the sound of his guttural breathing as she slipped further from consciousness. MIKE (Taichi): Well, I'm done. Now all I have to do is dismember the body and find a place to dump it. > On the edge that consciousness, before Yamato could fall asleep completely, the rhythmic thrusting stopped. CROW (Yamato): Great, now I'm awake again. >She felt a gush of familiar sticky fluid and opened one eye tiredly to see his smirking face. TOM (Yamato): Nothing new there. Pass the Nyquil, would you? I'm going to need all the sleep I can get. >In it, she thought she saw the first real glimmer of affection that had been there all day. MIKE: Turned out to be added psychosis. >His brown eyes were warm and soft as he ran his fingers through her hair and flicked stray pieces into place. CROW (Taichi): Do you ever comb the hair out of your eyes? > "You make a decent girl, Yamato-chan. TOM (Taichi): Too bad for you I'm an indecent boy. >A little more practice, and you might even fool me. MIKE (Taichi): Like when you sit, you should keep your legs together. Just a little tip. >Of course, most real girls don't like taking it up the ass, but..." CROW (Yamato): You mean, I'm not a real girl? Then where did my wang go? I want my wang back! > At those words, everything snapped back into focus. TOM: Wow, look at all the flyspecks! >The humiliation, the groping, the violence, and the rape. MIKE: All that's left is the pepper spray and the trial. >Vaguely, Yamato realized that she still had streaks of cum on her cheek from where he'd struck her. CROW: That's okay, sperm's a natural moisturizer. >Instinct said to bolt, and maybe she should have listened to it, but at that moment all she wanted was an explanation. MIKE (Taichi): Okay. Butchers made the first hot dogs ten to a pound, but bakers traditionally made buns in multiples of three or four.... > "Why?" TOM: Because. CROW: Oh, he's center field. > "I told you." Taichi shrugged, as if it didn't matter much to him and shouldn't have made any difference to her, either. "You kinda look like this one girl I know." MIKE (Yamato): Couldn't you have asked her out politely? > Her eyes burned, and she ducked her head quickly. CROW (Yamato): Hold on, my contacts are bother me. >Not about to let him see her cry. It shouldn't have surprised her, and it didn't. But it also shouldn't have hurt. It did. MIKE: This fanfic was supposed to be sexy. It isn't. It was also supposed to aggravating. It is. >She just wanted Taichi to take her in his arms and say that he cared about her. Even as a friend. TOM: And she wanted a pony, too. >That this whole thing had been one big misunderstanding. Was that so much to ask? CROW: It is when it's one BIG BIG BIG misunderstanding. > "Hey..." His voice. The voice of her former leader. Her former best friend. MIKE: Her former human being. >So soft, it was almost tender. TOM: Yet the crust was still flaky. >"Don't cry. Isn't this what you wanted? What you've been wanting for years?" CROW (Yamato): No, I want something for my music box collection. > She stammered uselessly. No. It wasn't true. She didn't want Taichi. She didn't want this. MIKE: She was so attached to her penis. It was like a part of her. > Gently, sweetly, he brushed away her tears. "Liar. Why bother denying it? CROW (Taichi): I've been taping our conversations. >I know these things, remember? Koushirou and Mimi-chan? Daisuke and Ken? Jyou and that French exchange student? Our siblings?" TOM (Taichi): They raped the hell out of each other and just look at them now! >He grinned that slow, sexy grin of his. "You and me." MIKE, TOM, and CROW: We had a bag of fun! (Clap, clap, clap!) Down by the East Riverside! > She knew she was blushing. CROW: It's unavoidable in these sorts of fanfics. >When Taichi pulled her hand to his mouth and kissed it, she blushed even harder. "But...Sora..." MIKE (Yamato): She's never going to fall for a lame explanation like this. > "Who cares about Sora?" CROW: We do! TOM: Yeah! >The brunet drew her up against his chest, and she snuggled there contentedly. TOM (Yamato): Snarl and hit me again, honey! >"Not me. Not you. But that's okay." MIKE: What the hell? Does everyone just HATE Sora? > "It is?" Yamato felt dizzy. Lightheaded. CROW: Like she drank a six-pack of creme soda and stood up too quickly. >She was staring at Taichi's lips, wanting him to kiss her again. So what if he'd nearly raped her? She didn't care. MIKE: She had battered women's syndrome. >She was happy now, for the first time in what seemed like forever. So happy. TOM (The Turtles): ...together! I can't see me lovin' nobody but you, for all my life! > "Yeah. After all, she doesn't love you, either." MIKE (Taichi): And if she does, who cares? It's not like Sora's feelings matter. TOM (Yamato): Sora! Psssssh! > Their mouths brushed together, then latched onto one another like steel traps made of flesh and blood. CROW: Fleshy steel? How easily does that rust? > And Yamato awoke. MIKE (Yamato): That is the LAST time I mix rum and bourbon. > Panting, gasping, clawing at the air. At anything. Anything solid he could use to pull himself out of his dream. TOM (Yamato): Like this giant bathtub plug...oh, no, the Universe is being sucked down the drain! I'm still dreaming! I'm still dreaming! >The darkness that he saw when he opened his eyes did nothing to reassure him. Neither did the bedroom that wasn't his own. CROW (Yamato): I can't see this bedroom, and I know it's not mine! Augh! >He threw the sheets aside and went to the window without bothering to get tug on a shirt, sticking his fingers into the blinds and pulling them apart so that he could peer out at the ghostly threads of early morning light. MIKE: Hey, don't do that! They'll bend! >The sun hadn't risen yet, but had just started to think about it. TOM: If I were the Sun, I'd call in sick a lot. > Someone moved behind him, sitting up in bed. CROW (Taichi): You're the boy-iest girl in Odaiba, Yamato-kun, but it's not enough. Not nearly enough! >Yamato froze, horrified, and then relaxed when he saw that it was only his girlfriend. Sora. Exhausted and decidedly female Sora. MIKE (Yamato): AAAH! Get away from me with your infectious ova! >Sora without so much as a stitch of clothing on, alarmingly, but Sora nonetheless. TOM: She'd better get tug on a shirt. >Not Taichi. Looking from the clock on her bedside table to him and then back again, Sora frowned in concern. CROW (Sora): Why can't you have your nervous breakdown at a reasonable hour? > "Are you all right, Yamato-kun?" MIKE (Yamato): It was horrible! I dreamed my fate was in the hands of one of my fans. > He blinked. Scrubbed his knuckles into his eyes until he saw grey spots in front of the pale, colorless bedroom. MIKE, TOM, and CROW: The babies on the bus go, "Wah, wah, wah! Wah, wah, wah! Wah, wah, wah!" >Picked up one of her stuffed animals and tried his best to look unaffected. A teddy bear. CROW (Yamato): You'll understand, won't you, Mr. Pookums? Yes, you will! Yes, you will! >Already, he was having trouble remembering what his dream had been about. MIKE (Sora): Hey, do I rate an answer or what? >The details slipped through his fingers like grains of fine white sand, TOM: ...these are the days of our lives! >until only uneasiness remained. "I'm fine." CROW (Sora): Well, then, shut up and go back to sleep! Some of us have work in the morning! > Not as though he would have told her anything else, of course. MIKE: Yeah, honesty just prolongs relationships. Who needs it? >Sora had plenty to worry about already. TOM: Oh, no. Sora's having inane dreams about being a homosexual boy, isn't she? >He didn't like the thought of adding his problems to the heap, and Yamato suspected that she felt the same way about him. CROW: Plus he didn't want her laughing at his stupid dreams. >When he had something big enough that he thought he wouldn't be able to handle on his own, there was always Taichi -- and Sora had Mimi to call in America. So it all worked out. MIKE: I think the biggest nightmare in this house is the massive phone bill with all these long distance charges. > "Oh. Okay." Giving him a last, uncertain glance, Sora rolled over again and went back to sleep. TOM (Sora): See if I express concern for you before 8 A.M. again. > Which made sense, considering that first bell wasn't for another two hours. CROW: Yamato's going to have the shuffleboard court all to himself. >Yamato might have even followed her example, but he had never felt so wide awake in his life. MIKE (Yamato): I feel so alive! I think I'll take up jogging! >The dream must have been a nightmare or something. Jeez, his borrowed pajama bottoms were damp and clingy with sweat. MIKE (Yamato): I feel like I've already been jogging! I think I'll crash on the couch and watch cartoons all morning. >Thinking vague thoughts about taking a shower and maybe making breakfast for Sora and her mother, TOM: Her mom knows he's here?! Wow, Sora's got one of those cool moms! MIKE: Yeah, my girlfriend's moms would have freaked out if they had caught me in bed with their daughters. CROW: You had girlfriends? >Yamato started to put the teddy bear back on the windowsill. Then he dropped it on the floor instead and walked away. MIKE (Teddy bear): See if I go halfsies on my honey with you again! >He would take a shower, if only to rinse away the sweat, but he was going to make breakfast for himself. CROW (Yamato): I just hope Patrick Duffy hasn't used up all the hot water again. > When he got to the bathroom, however, Yamato discovered that the odd stickiness in his pajama bottoms was more than sweat. TOM (Yamato): Hey, I make my own gravy! >Fingering the flecks of off-white fluid distastefully, the blond almost wondered what his dream had been about before shoving it violently out of his mind. MIKE: So, he had sex with his girlfriend, and then fell asleep and immediately had a wet dream? This kid's gonads are in overdrive. >He had more important things to think about -- like school, or what he was going to get Sora for their anniversary next week. CROW: Flowers and candy, duh! Anniversaries are easy to shop for. >There were the usual reservations at the usual restaurant, but she always expected a gift in addition to that. TOM: Burger King can only get you so far. > It didn't have to be expensive, just a little something to prove that he was thinking of her. MIKE: He could get her a drumstick for her hat. > Yamato toyed with the idea of gift-wrapping a wad of the cum on his thighs, CROW: Save the receipt, kid. TOM: Besides, the semen anniversary is the eighteenth. They've not been together that long. >but decided she wouldn't think it was very funny and picked up the shapeless lump of scentless white soap that always seemed to be in with Sora's bath things. MIKE (Yamato): It's seems like I spend my life coated in white slime anymore. >She claimed that they started life as swans or flowers, but even if that were true it only meant that she quickly crushed them into generic little blobs. CROW: Can the girl help it if soap melts? Lay off Sora already! >Which, somehow, struck Yamato as a very Soraish thing to do. He didn't let himself wonder why. MIKE: Yamato, it will take you a lifetime of washing our cars to get back the brownie points you've squandered in this one story. > Clean, dressed, no longer hungry, and still an hour or so from first bell, the blond ran out of things to do in his girlfriend's grey apartment and left her a note explaining that he'd decided to head for school early. CROW (Yamato): Dear Sora, I've vacuumed the rug, polished the silver, recaulked the bathroom sink, done the dishes, defrosted the icebox, and painted the whole house. Don't breathe, you'll get germs on everything. >He was just planning on walking very slowly and maybe getting a cup of coffee en route. MIKE: Hey, Yamato! Get us some danish, would you? >It didn't occur to Yamato until he was halfway there that she might think this was weird -- they both knew he didn't really like coffee -- but when it did, he took a detour and bought a cup of the nasty stuff anyway. TOM (Sora): Yamato never drinks my coffee at home! > Just to keep the note from being the sort of pointless lie that he found himself telling so often these days. CROW (Yamato): Yeah, a cup of the nasty stuff, please. Double up on the cow phlegm and rock crystals. > By the time the school gates came into view, Yamato was actually in a fairly good mood. MIKE: Not that you could ever tell from his flat expression. >The leisurely walk had given him plenty of time to notice what was starting to be a very beautiful morning, and even with the lingering aftertaste in his mouth, he still appreciated it. TOM: The smog is fresh, birds are coughing. CROW: The bullies have chosen a new locker to trap him in for the next few hours. >Of course, he hadn't expected to see Taichi leaning against those gates, but then -- when was Taichi ever early to school? MIKE (Taichi): Sora called. She wants to know why you won't drink her coffee. > As he approached, the other boy opened one eye lazily and grinned. CROW (Taichi): Bet you can't guess where MY cheat sheet is hidden! >"'Morning. You're early today." TOM (Yamato): I don't get periods! Oh, you mean to school. > "I could say the same for you," Yamato pointed out, not bothering to hide his amusement. "The world must be ending." MIKE: Yes, two kids get to school ahead of time, and the world snaps from the pressure. > "Ha, ha, ha. Very funny. C'mon, man. Of course I'm early. TOM (Taichi): We got the coolest sines to learn in trig, baby! >I wouldn't miss this for the world." CROW: Would you miss it for a quarter? > He frowned. "What are you talking about?" MIKE (Yamato): You don't like school. You flunked lunch last year. > That opened Taichi's other eye. CROW (Yamato): Don't play "camera one, camera two" with me. >The brunet stared at him. "The bet, genius. Remember? The one we made months and months ago?" MIKE (Taichi): Double or nothing? You lose, I get to turn you into a Neanderthal? > "Oh, right." Yamato struggled to speak around his heart, which had somehow leapt right into his throat. TOM: Then he remembered his mouth was in his head and had a much easier time of it. >That bet. "Err...does this mean you've finally decided what you want me to do?" CROW (Yamato): And please tell me it won't get me on Oprah. > "Yes." Both eyes slid shut once more. He didn't seem to feel much like elaborating. MIKE: That, or a gnat went for his eyes. > "Which is?" the blond prompted, irritated. MIKE, TOM, and CROW (Taichi): Leave Sora alone! > "Oh, just let me play dress-up with you for a while. TOM (Taichi): Then we'll have a tea party! >It's a skirt, of course, but that's nothing you can't handle. CROW (Taichi): You won't hang out of a micro-mini, will you? >Right, Yamato-chan?" MIKE: Oh, it's a Mobius fic! I sure didn't see that coming a long way off, no sir. Stupid Mobius and his damn strips.... >A/N: Due to rampant confusion among my readers, I'm forced to add a bit of an addendum. TOM: "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry." >Some people seem to think that I literally intend Yamato to relive this experience forever and ever. I don't. MIKE: He has to die sometime. >It's more like a 'dream within a dream within a dream' paradox, so that Yamato's not quite awake yet. TOM: Does that mean he's a butterfly? CROW: No, he's a Chinese philosopher. >I don't think he will be awake until he realizes that he's not happy with Sora, but that's another metaphor altogether. *wink* MIKE: Considering how much he's whined about her, I think he's got metaphorical insomnia. >Never End TOM: Oh, go to Hell. "Never end." CROW: And remember to help control the lemon population. Have your friends' pets spayed or neutered. Goodbye, everybody! (MIKE, TOM, and CROW exit the theater. Doors slam as we return to the living quarters. MIKE, TOM, CROW, and GYPSY are playing cards.) TOM: Have you got any threes? MIKE: No. CROW: Nope. GYPSY: Go fish. TOM: I can't draw a card, my arms don't work. This doesn't feel right anyway. MIKE: It'll be all right, I always draw your card for you. I don't even peek. TOM: I know, but still. We should be doing something. MIKE: We are doing something. We're playing cards. TOM: No, I mean something to do with the fic. We should have a little skit to put on. MIKE: Yeah, well, we couldn't think of one. I'd rather play cards anyway. CROW: He's right, Mike. We should at least try to think of something. Couldn't we call one of the kids up and ask what the hell? MIKE: It's nighttime in Tokyo. They're asleep. TOM: We could make up a game show. MIKE: That's not very original. CROW: We could sing a little song. MIKE: G string's broken on my guitar. CROW: We'll sing a capella. MIKE: My throat feels scratchy. TOM: Wait, I get it. You're scared we're going to turn you into a woman, aren't you? (MIKE sighs and puts the deck down.) CROW: Of course! That's why we've been sitting on our cans not doing anything. Mike's scared we'll turn it into an excuse to turn him into a woman. You never let us do anything fun, Mike! TOM: Yeah, it'd be a blast! Pleeeease? Just this once? GYPSY: I'd have someone to talk to for a change. MIKE: I'll be right back. I have to find a guitar string. TOM and CROW: No! Wo-man! Wo-man! Wo-man! MIKE: (Sighs again.) I knew this was going to be an issue. We'd finish the fanfic, come outside, and you'd want to turn me into a woman. Look, I don't want to be a woman, okay? It's not going to happen. TOM: Oh, come on! What's so bad about being a woman? MIKE: Nothing, but.... CROW: We promise to turn you back again, if that's what the problem is. MIKE: Look, it was a dream sequence. It doesn't work in real life. You could attach my body to winches and pulleys and whatever, and it would never work. Sex changes require hormones and delicate microsurgery over the course of years, and the patients still look like Joan Rivers after it's done. So forget it. Think of something else, but no genderswitching. TOM: Oh, all right, party pooper. CROW: We could talk about how much Our Hero Yamato hated Sora. GYPSY: Somebody doesn't like Sora?! CROW: Nobody likes Sora. GYPSY: I like Sora! CROW: I meant, she's no one's favorite. GYPSY: She's my favorite! TOM: Well, you're the only one. I've never heard of another pure Sora fan. GYPSY: But...but...that's not fair! She gets dumped on for a whole fanfic? Why can't she be the star? TOM: You don't want her to be the star of any of these fanfics, believe me. GYPSY: A nice fanfic. MIKE: Those don't happen, either. It's the way Sora would want it. She's the mommy of the group. She looks after everybody else's needs and nobody worries about hers, not even Sora herself. She can't have the spotlight. It would call attention to herself. The closest thing you'd ever get to a Sora fanfic is that she cooks and cleans all day, and everyone comes home and gobbles up all the food and gets the house dirty again, and she's happy even without getting a thank-you. And that's assuming somebody wants to write such a thing. CROW: That's not the most enlightened thing you've said today, Mike. MIKE: No, but it's true. All the kids fit certain types, and Sora's is pre-feminist Stepford wife. Mimi's the Yuppie princess, Miyako's the outgoing tomboy, Hikari's the sensitive one who bleeds for everyone. It's not Sora's fault she's the kind who gets overlooked, it's just the way she came. In fact, I think it's kind of nice that Gypsy stands up for her, since the two of you aren't that different. You're both self-sacrificers who need some recognition. GYPSY: Oh! I did right? Nobody ever tells me that. I didn't think I had that much in common with her. MIKE: Most favorites reflect the person we are, or would like to be. Take me, for instance. My favorite is Daisuke. TOM: I'm not seeing it, Mike. CROW: Me neither. TOM: I'm really not seeing it. MIKE: You don't? The goofy, likeable kid who through no fault of his own is appointed the new leader and never gets the respect he deserves because everyone thinks he's an interloper? I can relate to that. TOM: Nope. Just not getting it. CROW: No, no, I see it. Kind of like how Yamato's my favorite, and I'm a brooding blonde stud just like him. TOM: It's bull, I tell you, it's utter nonsense! We are not like our favorite Digimon characters in any way! WAAAAAH! (Exit.) GYPSY: First-season Takeru? CROW: Has to be. MIKE: Pearl's calling. (Onscreen: PROFESSOR BOBO is in constraints and shirtless. PEARL and OBSERVER tug at him with nipple clamps.) OBSERVER: This isn't working. PEARL: Of course it is. Give it more time. C'mon, Bobo, you're the girliest silverback in this castle, but that's not enough. Not nearly enough! BOBO: Am I lactating yet? PEARL: Hello, Nelson, we thought you might want some company...wait, the toys were going to turn you into a woman, weren't they? MIKE: Nope. They're too civilized and high-minded. CROW: Wow, cool! We're civilized! First time ever! PEARL: Damn. Give it a rest, Brain Guy. Bobo's womanhood will have to wait for another day. BOBO: But I want to know what it's like to be a mother! OBSERVER: I'm not touching that one. PEARL: Us uncivilized types have a little surprise for you, Mike. We're sending you a Digimon lemon...and you know there's ten of these coming, so it's not a surprise. Damn. I can't do anything right. Brain Guy, do me a favor and punch this up for me. I'd just foul it up. OBSERVER: With pleasure. Here comes by . Enjoy...or don't! (OBSERVER concentrates as strange music plays.) BOBO: Hey, you could use your omnipotent powers to make me a beautiful woman! OBSERVER: Please. Even omnipotence has its limits. (Back on the Satellite, GYPSY lays her cards down.) GYPSY: Gin! I win again! CROW: Drat, and I had a straight! MIKE: All I had was a bunch of the major arcana. Should we play Calvinball instead? (Lights flash and sirens blare.) Nevermind. FANFIC SIGN! (To return to MST3K fan fiction, press New Experiments. To abort, open Hamdingers.)