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Post By CrazySugarFreakBoy! Tue Jul 13, 2004 at 09:42:28 pm EDT |
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... Alias Atreyu Atreides & Atari Colecovision: A Love Story Among Nerds | |
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... Alias Atreyu Atreides & Atari Colecovision: A Love Story Among Nerds
“I can’t believe I’m actually talking with April Alice Apple, creator of the Groovy Gecko-Gal!” enthused Dreamcatcher Kokopelli Foxglove, the superhero known as CrazySugarFreakBoy!, as he smiled at the slightly chubby but still cute young woman with the heart-shaped face and deep aquamarine green eyes, whose rich henna red hair was done up in a beehive to match the extremely short and snugly fitting red miniskirt and black go-go boots that were part of her convention uniform as a female Starfleet officer from the original Star Trek television series.
“I can’t believe you actually know who I am,” April replied with a subdued smirk, her lilting articulation betraying a bit of a suppressed lisp as she skeptically regarded the enthusiastic young man whose inexplicably fluorescent tangerine orange hair, neon lime green eyes and day-glo banana yellow skin somehow managed not to clash with his appropriately all-black Luke Skywalker from Return Of The Jedi costume. “For years, I was convinced that nobody outside of The Black Cherry’s editorial offices even realized that my comics existed. I still can’t imagine how anybody outside of the East Coast audience would have heard about it, since the only real press it’s ever gotten has been in New York City. You must be a serious student of the comic book medium if you’re familiar with stuff that’s as small-scale on the market as mine.”
“Are you kidding?” Dream exclaimed, aghast at her display of modesty. “The Groovy Gecko-Gal is the best! It’s like, if Stan Lee’s silliest old-school superheroics were merged with Terry Moore’s renditions of real-world relationships, and filtered through Shannon Wheeler’s critiques on commercial pop culture! It’s beautifully heartfelt and brilliantly headstrong, and nobody else out there is doing anything like it. That, and she’s like, the coolest costumed crime-fighter ever.”
April bit hard onto her lower lip to keep from breaking out into a big goofy grin, and suddenly felt terribly self-conscious about the rising rosy red blush that was warming her previously peachy pink cheeks. “Um, well, thank you, kind sir, for your glowing praise, even though I’m not so sure I deserve it. It’s always nice to receive genuinely intended compliments, especially when they come from someone who’s obviously at least a little more literate than the average fanboy. Anyway, speaking of glowing, who are you supposed to be? I mean, the man-in-black outer-space preacher outfit and the emerald-hued lightsaber beam say you’re Luke in Jabba’s palace, but the freakish alien pigments of face and body paint, colored contact lenses and hair dye say ... something else.”
Dream beamed with the eagerness of a little boy before executing a brief bow. “Jedi Knight Atreyu Atreides, of the House Atreides.”
April returned a smartly military salute of her own. “Starfleet Ensign Atari Colecovision, of the Federation Starship Enterprise.”
“Let me guess,” Dream ventured teasingly, “your father was a Commodore?”
“Oh, ha ha ha,” April laughed sarcastically, amused in spite of herself.
“It’s a neat and nifty name,” Dream declared earnestly. “I like it.”
“Thanks,” April chuckled at his choice of words. “I like yours, too.”
“You’re a fan of Frank Herbert’s Dune, then?” Dream perked up curiously.
“I’ve read some of it,” April equivocated, before summoning up the courage to commit some experimental mischief, “but when I was in middle school I totally masturbated to Noah Hathaway in The NeverEnding Story.”
Because she’d been somewhat socially awkward and moderately overweight for most of her life, April Alice Apple was not used to finding herself on the receiving end of flirtatious attentions from any boys, much less ones who seemed fairly smart and sweet (and maybe even kind of sexy, albeit in an endearingly dorky sort of way), so when Dreamcatcher Kokopelli Foxglove blinked, swallowed and started to stammer in reaction to her clear come-on, she couldn’t help but be momentary thrilled by the evidence that he was attracted to her enough to be nervous around her.
“Ahem,” Dominic Clancy, the superhero known as Mr. Epitome, cleared his throat, deliberately startling Dream and April out of their shared reverie with a subtle but distinct air of condescension and disdain.
“Oh, it’s you,” Dream observed, although his tone betrayed a touch of uncertainty. “So, I suppose it’s too much to hope for that you simply opted to show up as a means of getting in touch with your inner nerd?”
“We need to leave now,” Mr. Epitome stated flatly, even as a sour frown began to crease his chiseled features. “Lair Legion business. And rather than simply page you through your Walkie-Talkie Watch, Sir Mumphrey Wilton decided, in his considerable wisdom, that I could benefit from opening myself up to alternative cultural perspectives by appearing, in person, at the Seattle ‘Bi-Mon-Sci-Fi-Con,’” he summarized grudgingly, emphasizing each syllable of the event’s title with an acerbically acidic edge. “So, I came to collect you, I saw some of your fellow fantasy entertainment enthusiasts, and I’m ready to leave. Now.”
“I gotta go,” Dream offered apologetically, before surprising his companion by literally spinning into a blindingly bright blur that soon resolved itself into a skintight and seemingly spandex-suited form, whose luminous hues matched the radiant shades of his hair, eyes and skin. As she blinked in astonishment at his sudden transformation, he bit his lower lip apprehensively. “Do you wanna go see Spider-Man with me? I mean, you know, not now, but whenever I’m done doing whatever it is that I’m about to go do?”
“I’ve already seen it, like, five times,” April admitted hesitantly, still shaking her head dazedly.
Dream paused and thought for a second, then shrugged. “You wanna go see it again?”
“Who are you?” April Alice Apple challenged him. “I mean, who are you really?”
The costume-clad young man with the fluorescent tangerine orange hair, neon lime green eyes and day-glo banana yellow skin flashed her an equally incandescent white smile as he spoke. “You know who I am. My name’s Dreamcatcher Kokopelli Foxglove. I’m a superhero, just like the Groovy Gecko-Gal. I’ve got a super-suit that gives me super-powers. My mom’s a porn star. She’s also my sidekick. My dad’s a tribal sheriff. He’s also a shaman. My arch-enemies are my long-lost kid sister, a pseudo-religious secret society of perfectionists who want to remake reality according to their own specifications, and a gang of ass-raping ninjas that fund their criminal enterprises by collecting student loan payments. I even have my own super-pet. It’s an alien goat-sucker from South America that I keep locked up in a PokeMon ball. In my free time, I read comic books, watch cartoons, play with action figures and jerk off to porn. I’m also a veteran of countless Dungeons & Dragons campaigns, an official spokesperson and advertising mascot for an enormous corporate conglomerate, and an extremely part-time college student. I’ve changed my major more than 50 times in the past year alone, and at my current rate, I should accumulate enough credits to earn my undergrad degree by the time I’m 35.”
“Okay,” the chubby-curvy, nerdy-witty young woman with the rich henna red hair, deep aquamarine green eyes and peachy pink skin considered cautiously, “so, what’s your superhero name?”
“You can call me CrazySugarFreakBoy!” he proclaimed proudly, without any vestige of irony whatsoever.
April Apple silently arched her eyebrows, fetched a magic marker from her comic book autographing table, pulled off the cap, and proceeded to scribble on Dream’s forehead.
Dream went cross-eyed trying to see what was being tattooed in temporary ink on his own face. “Um ...”
“Shush, you,” April chided him gently. “This is my cell phone number. It’s written in reverse, so you’ll be able to read it when you look in the mirror. Call me after you’ve finished saving the world or whatever. I will answer, and we will find something fun to do together. Okay?” As he nodded numbly, she dared to plant a quick peck on his day-glo yellow cheek, and licked her lips as she learned his skin tasted like banana popsicles. “You have a beautiful name, Dreamcatcher Foxglove.”
Except for Mr. Epitome, none of his teammates on the Lair Legion ever found out why CrazySugarFreakBoy! had a line of backwards numbers scrawled across his forehead when he finally rejoined the rest of them, nor did any of them ultimately manage to figure out why his mood seemed even more sunny and cheerful than usual during that day.
Dominic Clancy knew, but to his credit, he never told.
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