The pleasure gardens
of Milliarcha V
made it the Jewel of the inner
rim for over five centuries.
It took nearly 48 hours
for everything to change.
A great alien evil had enslaved
the once peaceful planet.
For the high council,
there was only one option.
Vanguard, the infamous
mercenary was dispatched
to face the entity responsible,
the Kragon, the Duke of Raggidi,
the butcher of Barsa,
destroyer of worlds.
Vanguard's orders were simple.
Eliminate.
Time for school.
I know.
He crashed hard. Vanguard nearly
broke the slave girl's fall.
She was straddling him now.
Face to face.
Seems I didn't leave
this world early enough.
The air is still breathable.
Just the same.
Neither gained much ground.
They were almost evenly matched.
We are almost evenly matched.
Almost?
I was weaned on the psychedelic
gasses of Raggidi prime.
I see their effect
on humans is not unusual.
It would be a shame to waste
so worthy an adversary.
The Raggidi also find the gas
to have a pleasing effect.
Vanguard peered into
the evil lord's eyes,
then back to the slave girl.
Then those eyes.
Then the girl.
Then the eyes.
And then the girl.
Then the...
It all happened so fast.
A flash of bodies, limbs, flesh
pressing together.
Their hunger knew no bounds.
Suddenly all the atrocities,
the murderous tyrant
had ever committed
were nothing more
than an afterthought.
Lust was the only thing
on vanguard's mind.
Lust was all that mattered now.
- A toast.
It's my good fortune
to have a good fortune.
And I bring it all to you,
most honorable heads of houses,
Prentiss and Hollycotton.
And of course, your highly
eligible daughters,
one of whom I soon
intend to wed.
- He knew it was wrong.
- -Cheers.
But why did it feel so right?
In the throes of passion,
vanguard was quickly reminded
of the debacle
at the high council.
And with it,
his previous conquest.
- What's that?
- Nothing.
If it's nothing,
why do you care?
It wouldn't even make sense.
Really? Are you saying I'm dumb?
No, there's just...
There's no context.
Neil, is that a diary?
I don't know.
Neil won't let me see it.
- Let me see that.
- Hey!
Senator Zaxa
approached vanguard,
his eyes set on the soldier
of fortune's engorged...
Pelvic region?
Mother of fuck!
We should burn it.
We don't burn books, Jessie.
Fucking disgusting.
Many taxonomic groups don't
actually have separate sexes,
so hermaphroditism
is a normal thing.
Now what Edward is handing out
represents the sequential
hermaphrodite.
In this case, the slipper snail.
It begins its life as a male.
But if the female
population dwindles,
then the largest
male in the group
will spontaneously
switch genders.
I will pull your face off.
Oh, I'm shaking.
All right.
Stand.
- You wrote this?
- Fuck no.
Julia, out.
Now.
Okay, who's the budding
d.H. Lawrence here?
Mr. Shafer.
Let's chat after class.
Where's mom?
She's at her book club thingy.
What book are they reading?
- What? -At mom's book
club, what book?
Are you autistic?
Who cares?
Dad doesn't want to think
about her stupid book club.
- She's exploring interests.
- Fuck that.
Maybe she's with an attorney.
Your mother is not
with an attorney.
We're just figuring
stuff out, okay?
- Like how to get divorced?
- -Uh!
What do you even know
about divorce
in the first place?
You wanna start some shit?
- Whoa, what is that?
- Neil got caught with porno
and now he has
to see a counselor.
Porno?
Like porno porno?
I didn't have porno, idiot.
Really?
Because, oh,
it says right here...
Lemme... lemme see that.
Oh, Jesus.
I knew it was a bad idea
to go there alone.
But my tire was low,
and I couldn't make it back.
The gas station was closed
and the lights were off,
but the air compressor
still took my change.
As I pumped new life
into the flaccid tire,
I heard a voice behind me.
He was older, probably in his
40s, by the sound of him.
But I didn't dare
turn around to check.
He pressed the pistol hard
against my lower back.
Pushing, pushing it
through my sweater
until it bruised my flesh.
He told me to get down
on all fours,
- like a dog. -Thank you,
Julia, that is enough.
- I'm not finished.
- Oh, you're finished.
- Have a seat.
- I have three pages left.
This wasn't the assignment.
Well, you assigned
a confessional.
This didn't happen to you.
- How do you know?
- Come on.
What?
It could have.
- Not likely.
Mr. snow, this is
a narrative writing class
and I wrote a narrative.
It is not your place
to condemn my subject.
But it absolutely is my place to
condemn inappropriate material.
How the hell can you
call this inappropriate?
You're not even
qualified to judge.
You're a man.
So are you.
All right, okay,
we're done here.
I need to see the principal.
Are you going to get him?
Sign in and sit down.
Eww. Pohl?
Is that "starchild?"
Yeah.
Pohl's only halfway okay
when he collaborates
with other writers.
Did you ever read
"the space merchants?"
Mm-hmm.
It's pretty good.
I think this one
kinda sucks though.
I have something for you.
I didn't know you wrote.
Oh, i... this...
- I didn't mean for...
- I liked it.
Are you in trouble?
Yeah, I have to see a counselor.
Yeah, well, I'm here for enacting
my first amendment rights.
I wrote an erotic fable.
Well, it was more of a parable.
It's a bit more grounded
than yours, but...
You get the idea.
What?
Do you write other
stories, like, um...
Like erotic literature?
Mm-hmm.
All the time.
- It's all online.
- Really? Where?
A riddle.
Eat me, drink me.
Well, good luck, young JUVIE.
Wait, you're leaving?
Where are they?
I don't think you're
supposed to smoke.
My mom smoked when
she was pregnant with me.
I don't think that's...
It's not like a myth.
It's a circulation thing.
No, it's fine.
We get it, shit ass!
All right, where to?
The mall!
His was the way of the warrior.
Crass. Uneducated.
But strong.
His abilities would
prove useless
in the enchanted forest.
Where the ancient
inhabitants dwelled
and recesses of one's own mind.
The hunter pushed forth unaware
fain had been watching him
from the moment he entered.
Neil!
It's Neil, right?
Are you watching me?
No.
Well, yeah.
No, i... I was
just curious.
- About? -What we talked
about the other day.
We talked the other day?
Sorry.
Neil.
God, come back.
I'm fucking with you.
- Um.
- It's cool.
I write slash, too.
Yeah, I know.
I read your stuff.
All of it.
Your fan fic is amazing.
I see you got my code.
I do like what you did
with the forest guard
in "midnight come lately."
They're really
under utilized in canon.
Yeah, they're
conceptually awesome,
but I feel like nobody gets it.
It's like they're
begging us to fix 'em.
You're doing what
they wished they could do
if they didn't have
to answer to the publisher.
Yeah, exactly. Mainstream
success is for chumps.
You know, like, the wood spirit,
and pagan gods and ritual magic?
It's really...
Sexual? Yeah.
It's so rich.
Organized religion
just totally nut clipped
everything that was great
about traditional
fertility rituals.
I mean, that's the only
part about fame
that I even give a shit about.
It's just a jumping off point.
It's funny that they think
it's kid's stuff,
but, like, there's
all this subtext.
I know.
I bet we're the only two kids
in this entire joint
that know about
what we know about.
It's kind of special.
You wanna ditch?
School?
No, I mean, you wanna
dig a ditch?
- Let's go.
- Oh, i... I can't
I have a test in social
studies next period.
It's on the Incas.
Well, it's not like
a midterm or anything,
so um yeah.
I let Martine
take my car to work,
so we have to walk.
But it's just the mall.
Martine's crazy.
I mean, she's pretty
much best friend,
she's just sort of a bitch.
Is that... is that
the pregnant girl?
"At frontier's rim?"
I hate these things.
They never get the book right.
Well, I guess I'm lucky
that fain hasn't made
the leap to the big screen yet.
Just it pisses me off that
whenever I see vanguard in my head
- that guy... -Well, he's
not your character.
I mean, that's why
it's called fan fic.
- Yeah, but.
- You seen it yet?
Like five times.
God damn it.
She's not getting off work
until like 6.
Okay, I don't have anything
better to do.
Will it be...
Smell like...
Will my parents be able to tell?
You don't have to.
It's cool.
No, I mean, I want to, but...
Thank you.
Uh! Shut your door.
- Put your seat down.
- Why?
What, are you ashamed
to be seen with me?
I don't know. I just... I
don't want to get into it.
There's too much backstory.
Mike Holloway drove his truck
through my mom's marigolds
when I was ten.
Then he gave her the finger.
I am so stoned.
Heads up,
knob-goblin!
Uh!
Hey, wake up! Let's go. Move.
Move to the back.
Move it!
- Go to the back.
- Okay.
Ow! I'm pregnant, bitch!
You know, your arm's
not pregnant, moron.
Jesus, I thought that was Mike.
You're really tearing
through them these days.
Are you kidding me?
Hi.
I just don't get
what you guys are doing
for an hour and a half
in the parking lot.
Were you like
blowing each other?
We were talking about writing.
Whoa! Wait, you write
that shit, too?
I should have known.
Who do you have fucking?
Harry Potter?
Thomas the train engine?
I just gotta know whose
fictional dick
is going in whose
made-up mouth.
You can't even read.
Yeah, I can read.
I read all the time.
I read actual books for adults.
- Not baby books.
- Okay, name one.
"Wuthering heights," ass blood.
- The Bronte sisters wrote fan fic.
- What?
The Bronte sisters.
Emily Bronte,
of "Wuthering heights,"
wrote erotic fan fiction.
They're like pioneers.
Wow. It's really good
Mike isn't here to find out
that you're still
such a fucking geeeeeek!
Dude, you know weed
stays in your system
for like two weeks.
On your clothes, on your jacket.
Leave him alone.
Hey, tomorrow, 2:00.
Let's meet in the courtyard.
We can drive around.
Bye.
Belzac and Deron Zaxa
had been fighting for hours.
Sweat tinged the air
of the war chamber.
That was the first thing
vanguard noticed as he entered.
The bulge in his leather pants
jumped to attention...
Erect member out of...
Suddenly, Belzac reentered...
His mouth, usually only
engaged in ordering
soldiers to their deaths,
now found its true purpose.
We will not stand for this.
If the trade union continues
to block us at every turn...
Block you?
Block you.
Your armada destroyed
the last...
- twelve. -Twelve
shipments of illinium
- sent to Parak Menom.
- Only 12?
Now 13.
It's an embargo.
A legal embargo.
Odd definition
of the word legal.
- Actually... -oh, so that's
why you brought your...
Muscle?
You have nothing to fear
from us, Deron Zaxa.
You or your muscle.
I will not be mocked
aboard my own ship.
Hired ship.
It's his freighter.
What do I pay you for?
Move!
Whatever he pays you,
we'll double it.
Allow us to show you
what we'll pay you for.
I don't have all day.
Yes, sir, very busy.
You have a lunch at...
Christ!
God!
Zaxa's hand reached down...
Down to his zipper.
The ambient humidity in the room
reached a level that set off
the climate klaxon.
But Zaxa couldn't...
Or wouldn't... stop.
Hey, Neil.
God I sucked today.
You were really good.
That accent is,
it's out of control.
I think it's funny
when you do it like that.
It's supposed to be
a comedy, right?
Yeah, I suppose you're right.
See, that's why I like you, man.
You always make me feel better.
So you get like touched
inappropriately by the doctor?
No, he just puts goo
all over your belly.
- It's not a big deal.
- Yeah.
You have no clue
how big a speculum is.
It's like three adult dicks
glued together.
Sounds like me though.
Hey, snoop dog!
Come here!
- Well, who's this?
- Julia's new boyfriend.
- Jealous?
- For real?
What's up, bro?
I'm Mike.
Ow.
I'm Neil.
- Well, I guess I owe you one, Neil.
- You do?
Yeah, for taking little miss
elf quest off my hands.
She has been up my hole
like 24-7.
Hey, fetus.
So long, kiddies,
let's ride around.
Better not leak
on my seats, Martine.
I don't leak.
It all stays in me.
For like another two months.
Gross.
Hey, I wanna tell you
about something.
There's a con
in Houston coming up.
Like a comic con?
Yes, like a comic con.
A big one.
The rabbit's hole is hosting
a private mixer.
- It's invite only.
- Oh, yeah.
- I think I heard of that.
- Well, I got invited.
Really?
Cool.
Yeah, there's a live read, too.
I mean, that's only
for rock stars,
so, I don't wanna
be presumptuous or whatever,
but I think they might ask me.
You can still get invited. You just
need to upload your damn work.
Yeah, but... don't you
have to be 18?
You're joking, right?
I don't even know
if my stuff is...
- I don't know!
- Come on, it's good.
You barely even read any.
Well, it's gotta be good.
I mean, you're so repressed.
That shit has gotta
come out somehow.
Drop us off at Neil's house!
Oh, man, I thought
you were joking.
Exactly how I imagined it.
I guess it's pretty drab.
My mom's been kind of away.
Moment of truth.
Crack her open.
Julia, I didn't really mean for
these to be seen by anybody.
Yes, you did. Otherwise you
wouldn't have written them.
I can't watch.
- I thought you couldn't watch.
- Sorry.
Oh, my god.
Do these girls actually
wear space bikinis?
It's ceremonial.
They were given...
It's not my idea.
Well, I just like that there's
actual girls in here.
Wow, you are one twisted fuck.
I love it.
- Ooh, prepare to be analized!
- It's not a toy.
It's not a toy.
That's so weird.
- It looks like a toy.
- You're gonna break it.
- That's crazy.
- Whoa!
Say your space prayers, sucka.
Am I interrupting?
Don't you knock?
Um, dad is working late.
There's food in the fridge.
Where are you going?
Oh, my band has a show.
What's your band?
Dance or die.
It sounds awesome.
Yeah, well, it's pretty stupid.
I bet you're really good.
- Just get out!
- All right.
I'm off.
I have to pick up Tim.
It smells like sweat in here.
What was that?
I'm bisexual, just so you know.
Eww, she's not even gay.
All women are bisexual.
All of them.
My first blog, clitora majora,
is all about it.
- So, you ready?
- No. For what?
It's time to upload.
I don't think I'm ready.
Dude, they only send invites
to writers who post.
And besides, writers,
real writers,
let people read their shit.
And your shit is good.
I mean, it's not
as good as mine,
but traditionally boys don't
write very good erotica.
- So, by those standards...
- Okay, fine.
Just, stop talking.
Really?
Oh, my god. What are you
like the one person
on the entire Internet that
doesn't lie about their age?
- Are you a Mennonite?
- No.
I just, I don't want
to misrepresent myself.
Okay. I'm gonna go
out on a limb here
and say that this is not about
misrepresenting yourself.
You don't want to do this
because once you do,
you're one of us.
It's the final line.
The last taboo.
Well, there's no
turning back, Van fan.
It's in god's hands now.
What?
Can we just turn comments off?
No, dude, it's part
of the public record now.
You're killing me.
Let's talk about something else.
Literally anything else.
I like the way you eat.
Neil, when we were
horsing around,
did you get a boner?
- Like a little bit of a boner?
- No!
Okay. It's cool
if you did.
I thought that you were...
What?
Nothing.
It's cool if you popped a chub.
God, shut up.
- Yo.
- Where's Martine?
I don't know. At the abortion
clinic with her mom.
Wanna grab some food? We can go
to footlongers and get some subs.
Watch "celebrity apprentice"
at my place.
And by your place you mean
your mom's basement?
Yeah, whatever.
I got weed.
You wanna come?
Whoa! What the fuck
do you think I look like?
A fucking full service
food court?
No, that's okay.
I've got math homework.
See, he's got math homework.
He's got a future.
Fuck you.
Neil, really great work today.
I have you nymph.
The hot breath is his voice
in her elongated, elfin ear.
The ear that to nymph kind,
seconded as a highly
erogenous zone.
Fain was lost unto herself.
His name now known to her.
Michael.
Sir Michael.
My sweet Michael.
All right, so nicklepenny
comes through the door
minus his pants.
Hollycotton is surprised
and crosses to l-6.
Mr. nicklepenny!
- I thought you were...
- Across the hall?
This mansion is still
quite a mystery to me.
Oh, wait, wait, wait.
That's too much.
Reverse.
No, no, that's not right either.
Look, I have a test
in 30 minutes,
and I'm not going to fail
because of your slow ass.
And how long did we wait
for you to get off-book?
Fuck you!
I have dyslexia.
Miss Lewis, this is
a tech rehearsal
and I can't put up
with her anymore.
I take dyslexia medication.
Jessie, take a break.
Neil, hey.
Neil!
Huh?
Could you be so kind as to
relieve miss hunt for a moment?
I can't put up with her...
Can you imagine having
to deal with her parents?
So, Jessie tells me
you're a writer.
You really freaked her out.
- Oh, I didn't mean to.
- Dude, that needed to happen.
This place could use
some subversion.
Yeah, um, in AP English,
we got to read Oscar Wilde...
- so you gonna let me read it?
- Oh.
Okay, let's take it
from the double entendre.
It seems that Horace
has mistakenly
taken my clothes.
Thankfully not all of them.
Yes, thankfully.
Oh... it's cotton.
Cotton's a very
versatile fabric,
don't you think?
Extremely pliable
to a man's touch.
What appears course,
now in my hands
is so very, very soft.
Oh, my god.
Oh, listen to this, "Deron Zaxa,
ever the orator, put his mouth to
quite a different purpose now."
Dude, this Deron Zaxa guy
is you straight up.
- Neil. -You do know
he's straight, right?
Thanks.
You're gonna have
to drive my car.
Are you crying?
No.
I'm pretty sure you're crying.
Never drink vodka from a
plastic jug with a handle.
Okay.
Mike Holloway
is pure dick cheese.
Neil, I have something
important to tell you.
Something I've been
thinking about for a while.
I think you use
too much flowery prose.
What?
You say things like,
"he stroked his velvet rod,"
when you should be like,
"he pumped his stone cock."
Readers respond better
to direct language.
Thanks.
I can impart the wisdom
of our one year
age difference, you know?
Um, your mom has a lot
of religious stuff.
Yeah, I think that's why
my dad killed himself.
He was gay, you know.
My dad, he kept it to himself.
I guess he preferred death
to coming out.
Man, do you really think
being gay killed him?
I don't wanna be here
when my mom gets home.
What?
Mom's home.
Stay here.
I... I had to print
something for work.
You know we've always
supported your interests.
And the Internet is, wow,
an incredible tool.
- We don't have to do this. -I think
what we're trying to say is just 'cause
information is out there,
doesn't mean it's accurate.
We just don't want you getting
particular information, you know,
- from the wrong sources.
- I'm 15.
Hey, you can read whatever you want.
We're fine with that.
As long as you're reading.
Uh-huh, as long as
it's not "mein Kampf."
But actually, well, "mein Kampf" is
actually a pretty interesting read.
Honey, I don't want you
to feel awkward about this.
If you want to read intelligent
prose on human sexuality
I can make you a reading list.
Eww! No! What do you
mean intelligent?
Well, it's just whoever wrote
that story on your computer,
they obviously don't have
the first clue
about actual human
relationships.
It's demented.
I don't think your mother's
talking about
- the homosexual content, not particularly.
- Please stop.
It's just more
of a basic plotting problem.
You're absorbing material
that has some rudimentary
grammatical errors in it.
You've got sentence fragments,
you've got dangling participles.
I actually have been helping
Neil with his writing.
- Huh. -He's got a lot
of innate talent.
He just uses too much
flowery prose.
There's no flowery prose!
Neil tells me you two
are considering a split?
- What?
- I'm sorry.
I just thought I could
provide some insight,
since my parents are divorced.
I'm sorry to hear that.
Open and honest dialog is key
to maintaining a stable
relationship.
- Is it now?
- Totally.
I write about it all the time.
That and be honest about
one's own sexual desires.
- It's rare that anyone ever is.
- Huh.
I edit a lit journal
on women's studies.
I plan to pursue that
in college.
- Women's studies?
- Yeah, female sexuality
in literature, specifically.
Reverse gender roles
in pop culture,
sexual submissive hierarchy,
rape paradigms.
I actually wrote a 22 page
thesis on the concept
of venereal disease
as a female guilt trigger.
It's no big deal. I did a paper
on monotremes, remember?
Are monotremes a form of VD?
Don't be embarrassed, Neil.
It's natural.
Yeah, Neil, don't be embarrassed.
It's natural.
- Do you ever read any online...
- dad!
- I actually write online
- poetry.
Online poetry.
Lady poetry.
- About strong women.
- Lady poetry?
You really need to bring
friend around more often.
Did Neil tell you guys
about the convention?
- The comic con?
- It's also for writers.
Neil, you didn't mention that.
It's for regular writers!
- Is that true?
- Define regular.
I think she means
non-erotic.
Are you guys crazy?
What makes you think
I would go to an erotic
writing convention?
I don't know! Why would you
have it on your computer?
I mean, do they have that...
What was the name?
- Uh... Vang...
- Vanguard erotica.
- Please stop saying "erotica" at the
dinner table. -No, please don't.
I just need to know if you're
going to a place for adults.
Yeah, mom has a strict
no sex dungeon policy.
I'm not. We're not!
You don't have to lie
to me, you know.
Your mom is not
as square as you think.
I even went to a key party once.
When did you go to a key party?
I'm not lying.
Good.
Good.
So speaking of writing,
how much do you guys know
about the Bronte sisters?
I'm sorry about that.
You know what, no, Neil, you have
to get past this repression.
Yeah, well, why don't I come by
and give a lecture
on the sexual fantasies
of Emily Bronte to your mom.
Your parents are cool.
You're lucky.
Our situations are so different.
- You told me that your dad
killed himself. -He did.
"Oh, hey, Neil's parents,
why don't you let me
give you some insight because
my parents are divorced."
- You don't get it.
- Yeah, I don't.
What?
Well, I'm picking you up
tomorrow at 9 am,
so be ready.
- Some dinner, huh?
- Sorry.
Hey, I like her.
She's a character.
Well, lemme guess.
I can't go now?
Dad. I'm good.
Take it.
Take it.
Do you remember
when I used to take you
to those autograph conventions?
Yeah.
Remember when you stood
in line for two hours
to try to get
butch Patrick to sign
your munsters lunch box?
And then he wouldn't.
Butch Patrick was a dick.
All right, as far
as your mom knows,
you're staying at your
cousin's, all right?
And I'm counting on you
to do the right thing.
At least not to do,
not to do the wrong thing.
She's more mature than you.
Huh? In some ways?
I mean, maybe mature
is not the right word.
Dad.
You really like
this girl, don't you?
I liked the same type.
When I was your age I did.
But be careful, huh?
These arty girls...
I don't wanna see you
get hurt, okay?
All right, good talk, right?
All right, I'll see you later.
Hola!
Neil, your friends
are multiplying.
Is that a pregnant joke?
This shit is getting super old.
We're not letting her
do this again.
You can say whatever you want about
me, but I'm not a fucking flake.
- What happened?
- Mike happened.
Fucking douchebag.
It's a good thing
I went by there.
- She's not gonna go?
- Oh, she's going.
I mean, look at you.
Look at what you do to
yourself for her, dumb ass.
That's fine.
I feel kind of
responsible for you.
I mean, you're just like her
when we first met.
I liked her 'cause she was
all smart and funny,
and she tried so hard
to be my friend.
And she would, like, offer
to do my homework and shit.
And I would just make fun
of her costumes and stuff.
You know she used to dress
like an elf, right?
I don't know.
I didn't think I tried
to change her.
I mean I took her out
with Mike, and that was it.
I guess he was like
the first normal guy
to ever take interest in her.
He's normal?
Don't change for her, dude.
Don't let her be your Mike.
- Please be quiet, okay? My
mom's sleeping. -She here?
- Yes.
- Then what the fuck, dude,
- what is she doing here?
- I don't...
She told Neil she would
take him to comic con.
Holy shit.
That's amazing.
Dude.
Oh, ho, dude, please get out.
I need a better look at this.
This coming from a guy
in his pajamas.
I'm listen... I'm not
busting your balls.
I promise you.
Just come on.
- I need a fucking picture.
- -You're such a dick.
I'm not the one making
a scene, okay, Martine?
You're the one making
a scene right now.
Come on, get up. Give me a little,
give me a little twirly twirl.
Oh, man, I'm not nearly stoned
enough for this right now.
Oh! What the fuck!
Jesus!
- I only wanted a picture, freak.
- You are the freak.
You and your stupid
fucking mustache.
Ow.
Yo, bro.
You ever see those um...
You ever see those pictures
I took of her wearing
that elf shit?
Well, sometimes all she wore
were those little ears.
Yeah, those were
my special pics.
Neil!
Get the fuck off!
Oh, Galadriel.
Babe, I knew you were a nerd.
I didn't know you were
a fucking retard.
Whoa! Oh, shit! Oh!
This is funny.
You're fucking crazy.
You can't be all stoic
in that costume.
It looks ridiculous.
Don't worry about me.
I am worried about driving
for three hours
with a guilt-bot programmed
to guilt me to death.
How can you hang out
with that guy?
He's like everything
you pretend to hate.
What do you mean "pretend?"
Nothing.
Just forget it.
You are acting like a really
jealous boyfriend right now.
Well, I'm not your boyfriend.
Yeah, you're not.
Hey, I'm sorry.
Okay, I know...
I know that Mike
brings out the worst in me.
You have to admit,
it was, like, really cool
when you knocked him down.
Fucker.
I have to tell you something.
About the live read.
I know already.
I saw.
It was posted on the forum.
Congrats.
I told you it was good.
- Did they write you?
- Mm-hmm, yeah.
They said something about
the number of slots.
Politics again.
Politics.
I'm really glad that you
transcended all of that.
Yeah.
Welcome to comic con.
What name is
your reservation under?
How do you know we're here
for comic con?
Emily Bronte.
All right, miss Bronte,
I have you down
for a single king?
Oh, can we get two beds?
Unfortunately,
we're at capacity.
That's okay.
We'll sleep together.
Swanky.
It's big.
Come here.
Try this out!
I don't wanna mess up
my costume.
Did you talk to them yet?
No, do I need to?
You're reading tomorrow.
If it were me, I would be
checking up on like
the order of the lineup
and how much time I have,
and how I'm gonna
be taped and shit.
Taped?
Why would they tape it?
I don't want to be on tape.
That's normal, okay?
You need to relax.
You're so fucking nuts.
Jesus.
What's with you? You
look like how I look
when I'm trying
to avoid someone.
Okay, so we have the opening
night party tonight.
And then tomorrow we have
writer Evals 'til five,
then the slash mixer,
and then the live read.
Hello!
Person talking to you I.R.L.
Sorry. Um... i have to
go to the bathroom.
You're just going to gawk
at your phone somewhere
where I can't give you
shit about it.
- Fine, I'll leave it. -No,
don't do it for me, dude.
I'm just trying to bust you out
of your self-induced
social media prison.
You've really opened my eyes.
Throw off the shackles!
Throw 'em off!
Wizards man.
Wand-on-wand action.
That's what the readers want.
It's casting a spell on my wand,
- I'll tell you that.
- Yeah.
But that Harry-Draco genre,
that's getting old.
Now what I'm into is that
Snape-Dumbledore fic.
Wow, that is literally old.
I didn't realize you
were into octogenarians?
Yeah, well, uh, vanguard
is no spring chicken.
Easy.
Well, usually.
Hey.
Oh, did you read
that story I sent you,
"panty raid at Slytherin"?
Oh, yeah, dude.
I called my mom.
I read it out loud.
Finally.
Come on.
We got business to conduct.
I think I'd rather
go look at comics.
Neil, this is toho.
What are you drinking?
I dunno. Toho?
Uh, hmmm... is blue.
It's blue.
Works for me.
That is a sick vanguard costume
you've got there, bro.
Is that from
"Kragon's war?"
Anyways, so...
My name is Hagoff Paul
and this is a little greeting.
Is that?
Is that LSD?
For the party tonight, playboy.
It's Molly. Mdma?
- No, no.
- It looks like acid.
It's ecstasy.
Have you ever done that before?
No, but I want to.
That stuff stays
in your system forever.
Have you ever heard
of an acid flashback?
Look, I don't want
to wake up in a year
and stab my parents to death
with a kitchen knife, okay?
Well, that makes one of us.
What if it ruins
the whole weekend?
What if we miss the live reading
because we're in the hospital
getting our stomach's pumped?
We are going to a party
with all sorts of lights
and costumes, okay?
- Do you normally go to
parties, Neil? -No.
- Do you like to mingle?
- No.
- Open your mouth, playboy.
- No... Julia.
There we go.
Oh, whatever you do,
don't swallow.
What will happen
if I swallow it?
I'm hallucinating!
It's not acid!
Whoa, whoa, whoa.
Hold her there.
Off, off, off, off.
- I'm sick.
- Okay.
I'm so stoned.
Stoned on acid.
I mean, Molly...
This must be like
every day for Madonna.
Here.
Drink some water.
Oh, okay.
Oh.
You're safe now. You're
in a totally safe place.
What?
I don't know if I've uh...
Ever been attracted
to anyone before you.
You mean any girl.
Any human being.
What are you
attracted to about me?
I'm not ashamed
of myself with you.
Should I have done that?
I don't know if I should
have done that.
Pants.
- Are you doing your homework?
- No.
"Julia tugged at his pants,
sliding them down
ever so slowly."
Okay, if you're gonna
write about us,
you need to use some modifiers.
"Julia tugged
at his tight pants,
sliding them off painfully slow.
Savoring the moment
the heightened
pleasure involved."
I'm glad you decided
to branch out.
You're a tough one
to figure out.
No, I'm not.
Hi, you've reached
Julia's voicemail.
I probably don't want
to talk to you.
Hi, you've reached
Julia's voicemail.
I probably...
The alliteration is good,
but you use it way too much.
Yeah, it's sort of my crutch.
And the allegory is a bit
on-the-nose.
Oh, I actually thought it was more
of a metaphor than an allegory.
Uh, do you know
what an allegory is?
Look, you're okay.
Uh, and you're female.
We need more women in our field.
Most of them are pretty ugly.
Unlike you.
You can have a career. Writing
is more than just writing.
There are other factors.
Dude, I want
to show you something.
It's a...
It's a Tijuana Bible.
It's quite the important
artifact.
Mexicans are far more
sexually liberated.
What's with the look?
You just left this morning.
Yeah, I was getting a critique.
I mean, that's why we're here.
To meet the pros.
I'm sorry.
Hey.
I have to go meet someone.
Who?
Denis?
Sorry, I looked
through your phone.
I didn't think
that you would care.
Hey... don't!
Don't do that.
- What's your deal?
- Nothing.
Don't get all weird on me
just because we messed around.
Why did you rip up our pages?
I don't know.
We were zonked.
We wrote some crazy shit, okay?
I didn't want it
just floating around.
So last night
was just the drugs?
You have been hiding
this Denis guy from me.
I didn't even think
that you were straight.
Can you hear me now?
How about now?
I'll check my bars.
That's better.
Oh, I'm sorry.
This is age restricted.
Hi.
Oh, my god, Neil.
Oh, I'm so sorry.
I uh... I didn't expect you
to look uh, so young.
- Uh, do you wanna see my ID?
- No, no, no, no.
No, I'm sorry, believe me,
I looked young
when I was your age, too.
Uh, when I was 18.
- You still look young.
- Oh, well, thank you.
Oh, my god, it's just so great
to uh, finally meet you,
in the flesh, so to speak, um...
- Yeah.
- Yeah.
- Oh, yes, of course.
Shall we? -Yeah.
You're staring.
Virgins stare.
- They do? -Yeah,
well, con virgins.
Yeah, it's just so weird now
that it's all in 3-d.
Yeah, I know.
Internet rule 34.
If it exists there's porn of it.
Just when you think
you've seen it all.
I just discovered what
a curtain fic is.
- Curtain fic?
- Mm-hmm.
I mean, okay, so,
this is aimed at older gays.
Of course they're
like post-sex,
proto-nesting,
domestic fetishists.
And so normally where you'd
have like kirk and Spock,
you know, making love,
uh, in this case, it's couples having
these like lavish shopping sprees
at pottery barn.
For curtains.
They sell curtains
at pottery barn?
They sell everything
at pottery barn.
I mean, you know, it's mostly
harmless I guess,
but not all of it is...
And you really need
to watch out for creeps,
especially at your age.
- But you're not a creep.
- No, I'm not a creep,
but isn't that exactly
what a creep would say?
Oh, I thought you came alone.
Oh, Jesus, speaking of creepy.
I came with a friend.
Oh, and does he write slash?
She.
And yeah.
You know, actually, I think
she's in regular writing today.
Oh, regular writing.
- Denis. -Oh, Ronnie,
hey, um, this is Neil.
- He's one of our new writers.
- Oh, yeah, I bet.
Ronnie Harwood. I'm senior
writer at the rabbit's hole.
So some of the inner circle
are gonna go out
for an early dinner
before the reading.
- Are you game?
- Yeah.
You can bring your
new little friend.
Everybody agrees
that Batman blowing Robin
and Robin blowing Batman
is totally played out,
but now I'm seeing
Christian bale's Batman
blowing Ben Affleck as Batman.
Blowing Val Kilmer.
Oh, that's really hot.
I got a cease and desist
from Warner's last week,
so obviously I'm doing
something right.
Yeah, you're moving up
in the world.
What kind of slash do you write?
You've been to our website,
it's easy enough to find.
Right.
I'm guessing this
is your first con,
since you're what, he's 18?
- Mm-hmm.
- Yeah, 18.
Hmm.
I was editing
the R.P.F. Board today.
I'll never get
all the Bieber fic.
Neil, are you
into Justin Bieber?
What's R.P.F.?
R.P.F. Is real people fiction
or celebrity slash.
Slash about, you know, celebs.
Oh, oh, like the Bronte sisters.
They wrote stories
about Napoleon
and the Duke of Wellington.
Yeah, I mean,
it's pretty old school,
but now it's mostly just like
pointless boy band orgies.
Yeah, and juvenile regressives
are popping up all over.
Speaking of... How long
have you slashed vanguard?
Oh, vanguard is juvenile,
but trek and Tolkien, that's...
It's all about audience
and intent, Denis.
This is first year stuff.
Vanguard doesn't play to
the 40-plus crowd, our base.
Besides, it's not our mission
to indoctrinate children.
It's not our mission
to indoctrinate anyone.
I read Tolkien when I was eight.
Yes, and Denis loves
his vanguard.
Ronnie prefers
her masturbation material
to stem from bad
'60s television.
You ever see
"the Brady bunch," dude?
Really, Freddie?
He's a child.
Mainstream success has no bearing
on our field. Never has.
What we do know
is juvenile fiction
begets juvenile erotica.
Let me be frank. You write
sex like a 12-year-old
and I think you know it. It's like you
found all these provocative words
and just tossed them
into a text editor.
Have you ever even had sex?
I doubt half our writers
have had sex.
- Let me see your ID.
- Ronnie.
Well, I don't know
about you, Denis,
but I don't want to go to jail.
Nobody's going to jail.
Jesus!
Neil, come on.
It's fine. Sit down.
Yeah, it's fine
if he ponies up an ID.
I remember now.
You wrote all that really gross
Mike and Greg Brady fic.
What's your point?
I thought you liked sex
with 12-year-olds.
If it's written maturely.
Nice.
Are you really 18?
Neil, Neil, come on, stop.
Stop, stop, stop.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
Look, Ronnie, I mean, you know,
she's like that with everybody.
It's not you.
Oh, um.
Let's go someplace else.
Wait, wait, wait,
wait. Wait.
It just...
This doesn't feel right.
Why?
Look, I'm not gonna be mad,
I'm not be upset or anything.
I need you to tell me
how old you are.
- I already told you.
- I know, I know.
Tell me again.
- 15.
- 15? Oh, fuck!
I'll be 16 in November.
- Please don't reject me.
- Dude, this is wrong.
I know it is.
This is just
the second time today.
- I could go to jail.
- I won't tell anyone.
Did you just tell me you were 18 so
you could get into the live reading?
- No! -What do you
even want from me?
I just thought
it'd be different.
Here with you.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
You actually remind me
a lot of myself.
- You turned out okay.
- Did I?
I shot off a series
of insane messages
to somebody I didn't know
the first thing about.
I said things I would never
say to somebody face to face.
Ever.
You know, outside of like cons,
I have practically
zero social skills.
My mother always said it's
going to get me in trouble,
and now here I am. And yes,
incidentally, I live with my mother,
in the house where I
grew up, in Saginaw.
So, you know, don't be
too sure about things.
You live with your mom?
Stop. Stop. Stop.
Stop.
You said this was
the second time.
It it someone in our group?
Was it that girl
you came here with?
Yeah, well. I thought
you might be straight.
- I might not be. -Well, this
isn't the way to find out.
You have time. You're writing.
Focus on that.
How can I focus on something
I'm not even old enough to do?
Well, what do you want to do?
You want to be a writer?
A real writer, not fan fic?
You're good.
Keep writing and let
the rest of the stuff
sort itself out naturally.
I wish somebody had told me
that when I was your age.
Well, you better go.
It's about time.
I don't know what the right
thing to do here is.
I wanna make sure you're okay.
Well, I know you have to go.
I am the moderator.
I mean, you don't have
to worry, I'm not coming.
I can't, not now.
Not right now.
I wish it wasn't this way.
You know, for what it's worth,
I think you want to be queer.
Why would anyone want that?
To fit in,
even some place small.
I'll see you around.
You came back?
The live read's about to start.
You should be there.
I came back for you.
You don't get it.
You submitted once
and they're like,
"hey, come read it
on stage."
I have like 500 things
posted up there.
I know.
I've read every one of them.
It's hard caring about someone.
Letting them care about you.
It doesn't have to be hard.
I love you.
I kissed him.
That Denis guy?
I'm not going to the live read.
- You have to.
- I can't.
Neil, please, for both of us.
Fuck those crusty old assholes.
I followed you
into the restaurant
when you weren't
answering my calls.
I'm sorry that lady
is such an asshole.
Look, they only win
if you let them.
You are a featured
fucking story, dude.
You made it!
We're doing this.
You and me together.
I am your goddamn coach.
Okay?
As they entered the nexiverse,
Gandalf, his penis
now longer than his staff,
tuned... turned
to Dumbledore,
"Dumbledore,"
he said to Dumbledore,
"only the energy
of our mutual orgasm,
combined with unbroken
eye contact
can close the door
to the nexiverse,
thus stopping the combined
armies of Sauron and Voldemort.
Without a moment's thought,
Dumbledore selflessly
gave of his own manhood,
placing the head
of his pounding penis
against that of the wise old
wizard from alt middle earth,
like in Ghostbusters.
- End of chapter seven.
Okay, that was gan-dum 69
with "hole pluggers
of the nexiverse."
And who doesn't like some good
old-fashioned wizard-on-wizard action?
One more time for her,
gan-dum 69.
Um...
So-uh, I think everybody
knows my feelings
about what we do
and the purpose it serves.
Often we're treated like freaks.
Especially those of us
who are a little bit older.
- And uh, still doing this.
Um... and when we're away
from this little community
that we've created
for ourselves,
you know, we're outsiders,
and we're weirdoes,
and we're sexual deviants,
but not here.
Our next reader is a young man
that I have been following
with much interest.
And not just because
he writes vanguard.
Please welcome to the stage,
Van fan 42.
Um, this is called...
"Shore leave
on dreenan four."
"The balmy tropic
weather patterns
of dreenan four gave cause
for the indigenous proxans
to wear very little
in the way of attire.
This year with the elliptical
orbit pulling them closer
than ever to dreenan prime,
clothing was more
a hardship than an option.
Vanguard found himself unarmored
on the beaches of the Zaraug
during what seemed to be
a religious mating ritual.
'Do you happen to know
where they keep the towels?'
a lean, naked proxon inquired.
His supple manhood stood proud
against the harsh light
of dreenan prime.
The proxon boy repeated himself,
'well, do you?'
vanguard's hand now pumped
his stone cock."
He's 15.
You're outsiders.
You were supposed to support
other outsiders.
I mean, you guys write
ninja turtle bondage porn
and you're judging?
He just poured out his sad,
pathetic heart
to you philistines!
And I think it's beautiful.
Let him read.
No.
I may be 15,
but you're an asshole.
I'll be 16 in a few months.
All right, everybody,
that is my fault.
I'm the one who broke the rules.
Don't blame him.
So you're not...
Mad at me anymore, right?
I'd only be mad if you stopped
writing because of this.
Me? No.
I've got my body armor on.
Hey, I love you, too.
Well, duh.
I gotta tell you something.
I think I may be a lesbian.
The way I figure it...
If I'm lesbian and you're gay,
then we can be a gay couple,
and it sort of cancels
each other out.
Cause I'm more mannish
and you're like a girl.
Wait, what...
I'm like a girl?
I'm sorry, Neil.
I'm sorry I said you were gay.
I don't know why I said that.
I don't care what you are.
That's the only thing
that I don't care about.
I told them you were 16.
What?
I'm the reason you didn't
get into the live read.
It was my fault.
It was down to you and me,
and I told them that I was 18,
and you were 16.
That editor, Ronnie,
loves your writing.
It's not about that.
It never was,
so you have to keep writing.
I thought you didn't care
about the reading.
I'm sorry.
Yeah.
I really do love you.
It's not so crazy
they believed you were 18.
You do look older now.
Jesus!
Mom knows you stayed with her.
What?
- Mom's around?
- Mm-hmm.
- How bad is it?
- It's bad.
Dad took a bullet for you.
That girl's mom called.
Did you guys steal
her credit card?
I hope you lost your cherry,
Neily Bopper.
'Cause from the sound of it,
you might not be seeing
much of her for a while.
Let me see that.
What, do you think I'm too dumb?
Don't worry, man,
she'll come around.
Seasons end,
even on Milliarcha v,
where nuclear winter
was slowly giving way
to bright spring.
Vanguard felt it. And he knew his
own season was now at a close.
Be it burial in
the cold vacuum of space,
or a quaint domestic cabin
on the frontier's rim,
everyone retires.
Things, people... Come
into your life suddenly,
and then are just
as suddenly gone.
But their season shapes you.
Makes you dare things you
hadn't previously even dreamt.
And for that, and for my
friend, this author is happy.