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Subject: {ASSM} Testamalogical, Antidisestablishmentaryism and Other Silly Words (Satire)
Date: Fri, 15 Sep 2000 12:10:03 -0400
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The following story is copyrighted and may not
be re-posted on any pay or free site.
Also, this story may not be archived on any story
site. And only the author has the right to re-post
this story in this newsgroup or any other newsgroup.
Testamalogical, Antidisestablishmentaryism
& Other Silly Words
by
Aquillae
Copyright 9/15/2000 Aquillae
The stage hands were busy moving the props out of the storage building where
they had gathered dust for the past year and into their position on the
sound stage. The cameramen, the gaffer, the best boys, and all the other
technicians busied themselves with preparing their equipment for the much
anticipated restart of production. The talent, once bitter enemies who had
fought tooth and nail, with each other and the producers, over such vital
issues as money, screen time, and top billing, were, due to the lucrative
settlements, once more on friendly speaking terms.
Yes! It was going to happen. It was finally going to come about. The last
few chapters of Bernadette Unchained were going to be filmed.
Bernadette, wrapped in a fluffy white bathrobe, her long red hair damp with
a clear gel in preparation for the days shoot, sat in her chair studying the
few pages of dialogue she had for the first scene.
Tentatively Raquel approached, dressed in similar fashion. Bernadette
lifted her eyes to watch the younger girl's approach. Raquel motioned
toward the open chair next to Bernadette. With a slight nod from the older
girl, Raquel took a seat in the chair.
After a few moments, Raquel leaned over and whispered, "Are you nervous?"
Without hesitation or looking up from her script Bernadette quickly replied,
"Nope." Then, as a smile began to build across her face, she turned
slightly to see Raquel. The two girls burst into laughter.
Bernadette coughed. Then began to cough some more.
"Bern, are you alright?"
Bernadette waved a hand as she tried to control the nagging cough that was
tickling the back of her throat.
"I'm okay." she gasped, "I just forgot to swallow."
"You sure?"
"Yeah, don't get so testamalogical."
"What? What the heck's testa-whatever?"
"I don't know. The word just popped into my mind." Bernadette felt
strange, as if she wasn't in control of her own body and mind. "It's weird.
But just now, I, I feel like saying `Jocularity'.
In the distance the unmistakable sound of someone hitting keys on a computer
keyboard could be faintly heard.
"Jocularity? What does that mean?"
At that moment, as the key pounding increased at a feverish pace, Ja'Har
walked by, and turning to the girls remarked, "Being in a joking mood,
semicolon, making jokes. Having the nature of a joke, semicolon, wide
ridding breeches..."
In the distance a curse was uttered, followed quickly by a long series of
continuous pounding on a keyboard.
Suddenly Ja'Har began to sound as if he was speaking backwards. The two
girls listened in wonder.
"Breeches ridding, semicolon." And as he spoke the words they seemed to
vanish in the air.
"Just what the hell's going on here?" Bernadette asked as she stood up and
tossed her script on the chair.
Ja'Har shrugged his shoulders, then added, "Having the nature of a joke,
semicolon, comic, semicolon, funny, period." Feeling that his speech was
finished, Ja'Har turned and walked off toward the dressing rooms.
In the distance the ruffling sound of pages being quickly thumbed through
could be heard.
Always one to look for trouble, Bernadette set off to find out where the
sounds where coming from. Not wanting to be left behind, Raquel followed
after her.
The two girls searched across the wide open space of the sound stage. But
there was nothing that could account for the strange noise.
Finally, just as the two were beginning to get tiered of the search, they
distinctly heard the giggle of laughter coming from behind the director's
table. Raquel recognized the giggle. Quickly she rushed over to the table
followed by Bernadette. But when they reached the table, there was no one
there.
Frustrated in their search, they started to return to their chairs, when
they heard the unmistakable voice of Aquillae, their director, coming from
underneath the desk. By the tone of his voice it was clear to them that he
was in a very happy mood for once. Interested in what could be the cause of
such jocularity in the miserable piss-pot, the two girls made their way to
the other side of the desk for a peek.
What they saw was Aquillae crouched underneath the desk with a laptop
computer on the floor by his knees. Spread open on his lap was a an old
faded weathered Webster's dictionary from 1957. He was quickly scribbling
down words and their definitions on a memo pad.
"Oooh! That's a good one. I'll use that against Father Ignatius. Or better
yet, Dr. Spin. Hmm. Which country has the most sheep? Never mind."
Aquillae jotted down the word and the definition.
Quickly he continued his search through the old outdated dictionary flipping
through the pages like a mad man searching for the most obscure, obsolete,
and multi-syllable word he could find. He stopped in the Lu section of the
dictionary. His finger scanning down the list of words for the one he was
searching for. He had heard the word once before on an old British comedy
from the seventies, and was now hoping to use it against a few unsuspecting
Americans.
"Ah! Here it is. Luffa!"
Bernadette coughed slightly.
Aquillae quickly slammed the dictionary closed and hid the pad behind his
back.
"Oh, it's just you two." he breathed a sigh of relief.
"Working on a new script?" Bernadette inquired.
"What? This?" Aquillae grabbed his things and made his way out from under
the desk. "No. I'm just working on something. Just for the fun of it."
As he stood up, the pad fell out of his hand. Quickly Bernadette retrieved
it before he could. Nervously he watched as she read the scribbling on the
pad.
"So, you're back to writing for those folks at ASSD, are you?" she handed
the pad to Raquel for a look.
"It's just a little game. It wont interfere with production. I promise."
He tried to talk his way out of the situation, "Really."
The girls weren't buying his promises. The memories of the recent fiasco at
Dante's Tavern during the summer solstice was still very fresh in their
minds.
"It's just a little club game for writers."
"You mean that writer's club thing?" Bernadette took the pad back from
Raquel. "You're part of that band of rough shot hacks and wanna-bees?"
"Hacks! Wanna-bees!! Have you read what Father Ignatius wrote in his last
duel? And what about that stuff Nicholas Urfe wrote? You're calling that
hackneyed?"
"Any man who writes that fast is probably just as fast in bed." Bernadette
tossed the pad back at him. "Three hour writer. Three minute man."
Placing the laptop and the dictionary on the desk, Aquillae bent down to
retrieve the memo pad. He mumbled as he picked it up, "And this from a girl
who's major claim to fame is a five minute blow job scene."
"What?" Bernadette heard as she turned the laptop to see what was on the
screen. "What did you say?"
"Nothing." Aquillae replied as he stood up.
"I heard what you said."
"Oh, God." thought Raquel as she saw the storm clouds building again. This
blow up had all the markings of a full scale hurricane. Category five.
"Well then you know what I mean." Aquillae snipped as he turned the laptop
screen away from her.
"You're the one who wrote the scene that long. Remember."
"And you're the one who screwed up the scene. Remember." Aquillae
retorted, "A simple blow job and a facial cum shot. That's all. What could
be so difficult? Do you know why they call them facial shots? Because it's
supposed to land on your face! Not three feet over your shoulder."
"So it's my fault Ja'Har's got a fire hose for a dick?"
"He at least can make his orgasms believable."
Bernadette stepped up close and shoved him. "Are you questioning my talent?"
Raquel tried to get between them. "Hey, let's just cool down, okay?"
The two ignored her feeble attempt at peacemaking.
"The only talent you've shown me so far was when you were on your knees
during the auditions. And that was a sub-par performance at best."
"Well, if it was such a shity performance, why did you give me the lead
instead of Miss. Liberal Arts Queen?"
Raquel sat back against the desk in shock. "That's why you dropped me from
the lead? Because I wouldn't screw you?!"
"That had nothing to do with the decision..." he was cut off by the sharp
sting of Raquel's hand across his face.
Raquel turned away from the two of them and covered her eyes as she began to
cry.
The production staff all stopped in their work when they heard the slap.
George, a veteran cameraman of fifteen years was beginning to regret the day
he signed on with the current production. He should have known better at
his age then to get involved with a young, erratic director. While the rest
of the cast and crew stood quietly and listened to the argument, George
began the process of packing up his equipment. He had seen arguments like
this many times before. He knew where it would end. It was the same place
it had always ended since the beginning of cinema. The walkout of one of
the principle players, leaving the crew stuck on a dead production.
As George busied himself with his equipment, Aquillae and Bernadette resumed
their bloody war of words.
Ja'Har, feeling refreshed and well with himself after his midmorning
colonic, stepped out of the dressing room ready for the long shooting day to
begin. Seeing everyone stopped and standing around, he asked Virginia, the
young intern what was happening. Before Virginia had a chance to reply,
Bernadette's raised voice was heard describing the sexual talents of Ja'Har
in rather unflattering terms, with several expletives placed at very
sensitive points for emphasis.
Ja'Har, feeling the insecurities brought on by the past year's pressures
returning, slowly made his way back to the dressing room and hurriedly
called his psychologist.
As the verbal barrages continued between Aquillae and Bernadette, Raquel
slowly regained her composure and wiped her eyes. Wiping away the tears,
she saw clearly for the first time the laptop's screen. Reading over the
words on the screen she slowly became aware that what she was reading was a
prose version of what had transpired between her and Bernadette while
sitting in the chairs. It even contained Ja'Har's awkward little speech
defining jocularity.
She turned to face the two of them. "What's this?" she pointed to the
laptop screen.
The two failed to hear her over their own curses and vulgar threats.
Rachel hit Aquillae in the arm.
"Hey!" he rubbed his arm, "one type of abuse at a time."
"Them listen to me." She commanded.
The two stopped and took notice. It was the first time either of them could
recall the young girl demanding anything.
"What is this?" Raquel pointed to the laptop screen.
"It's a laptop."
Bernadette hit him in the other arm.
"Hey!"
"Don't get smart." She warned him.
"Dah, okay." he replied in mock stupidity, "I wont."
Bernadette raised her fist to strike again.
"Okay." he dropped the accent, "Alright!"
"What is this on the screen?" Raquel asked again.
"Nothing. Just some words." He tried to explain as Bernadette took a closer
look at the words on the screen.
Quickly she also realized what the words were from.
"Just some words. Looks more like a story." Then a light when off in
Bernadette's mind. Quickly she grabbed the memo pad and scanned the words
scribbled on it. She looked back at the screen.
Nervously Aquillae watched as she quickly scrolled down the document. His
greatest fear was not in her discovery, but that she might close the file
before he had had a chance to save the document to his hard drive.
He inched closer to the desk. Seeing that she was at the bottom of the
document, he knew he had only a matter of seconds in which to act and save
his hard work.
With a swift movement of his right hand, he quickly jabbed the short cut
keys on the keyboard for a save. Unfortunately, this was the first time he
was trying to save the document, so a window popped up on the screen asking
for information.
"Nice try." Bernadette promptly closed the save window. As she turned to
face him, she rested her hand on the top of the screen panel. "So, just a
few words? I guess you wont mind losing the information then, would you?"
She slowly began to tilt the screen down toward the keyboard.
Aquillae remained silent.
"Fine." Bernadette lowered the screen further.
At the last possible moment Aquillae forced the screen back up.
"What's the matter? Afraid you'll lose your pre-write?" she teased.
"Pre-write? What are you talking about?" Aquillae kept his hand on the
screen pushing against Bernadette's attempts to close it, "This is just an
outline for a new story."
"Yah, right. An outline which just so happens to have three words from your
memo pad of dictionary words. You were pre-writing something for the write
club."
"I was not." Aquillae tried desperately to come up with a defense, "I was
looking to increase my vocabulary usage."
"Really. So tell me Mr. Vocabulary, when was the last time you used the
word antidisestablishmentaryism?"
Aquillae fumbled for a reply.
Bernadette let go of the screen panel. "What's the matter? Afraid you
couldn't cut the three hour deadline?"
"I could do a story in two hours." he turned the laptop toward him.
"So why cheat?" Raquel asked.
"Cheat? This isn't cheating."
"Then what do you call breaking the rules and going against the honor
system? Politics?"
"What? You think those guys didn't pre-write something? Give me a break."
Aquillae saved the document and then closed the file.
"And you have proof."
"Proof!" Aquillae laughed, "We're talking porn writers. Not Nobel prize
winners. I wouldn't put anything past that bunch."
"So there's nothing at all wrong or dishonest with pre-writing something for
the write club?"
"No. It's dog eat dog." he explained, "If you haven't got the balls to make
your own rules and do your own thing, then you don't belong in the club."
"Really." Bernadette slid the laptop away from him, "Then you wont mind if
I give it a try, will you?"
"You? What are you going to write about? Manicures and tan lines?"
"Funny." She pushed him into the open area of the sound stage.
Quickly she began to type. As he started to walk back to the desk, she
pressed the enter key. There was a sudden buzz of electricity. With a loud
crackle Aquillae was tossed back to the ground.
"Hey! It works." Bernadette began to type more words.
Aquillae slowly picked himself up. "What the hell was that?"
"Force field." She replied as she continued tapping away at the keys, "Like
it?"
"No." Aquillae stood up and brushed himself off.
"Well, maybe you'll like this better?" she pressed the enter key again.
The area immediately surrounding Aquillae shifted and swirled in waves of
blue and violet. Slowly as the colors faded and the waves thinned out, the
once empty sound stage was decorated like a overly expensive, trendy New
York bar. Aquillae, dressed in a retro sixties outfit was standing on the
bar. Surrounding the bar in a wild mass were dozens of sexy screaming
teenaged girls.
Aquillae took in the scene and smiled. "If this is your idea of teaching me
a lesson, I'm ready to start learning."
Bernadette hit the enter key again.
Enjoying the view from his elevated position, Aquillae made his way down the
long bar teasing the girls by making suggestive movements with his hips.
Halfway down the bar, he seized up and began to cough. His face went pale.
His eyes grew wide in fear. Desperately he struggled to fight back the
words that were struggling to force their way out of his mouth. In a long
extended cry the words came out. And there he stood, on the bar, in front
of a pack of wild, screaming teenagers, singing Peter Noon's `Mrs. Brown'.
At the end of the lyric he was able to regain some control. Furious, he
glared over at Bernadette. "You miserable Bitch. I hate that song!"
"I know." Bernadette copied and pasted the lyrics again. "Ready for the
second chorus?"
"You wait until we get to chapter three. Your ass is going to be mine."
As he finished his threat, Aquillae felt the words forcing their way up
through his body. He was determined to keep control this time. And for a
period, seemed to be winning.
Just as determined to have her fun, Bernadette re-pasted the lyrics. But
this time she increased the font size to it's maximum.
The force was too great, and Aquillae collapsed on the bar unconscious.
Robed of her fun, Bernadette was about to shut the computer off and leave
when Raquel stopped her. Pulling the laptop to her, Raquel quickly began
typing. As she typed Bernadette stood behind her and read the scene. She
liked what she was reading even better then the scene she had just written.
After a quick check for spelling errors, Raquel happily taped the enter key.
Quickly the area around Aquillae grew dark.
"Knowing our luck the battery will probably wear out before he wakes up."
Bernadette lamented.
Raquel taped her on the shoulder and pointed to the electrical cord leading
into the laptop.
Satisfied with the knowledge that the scene would be waiting for him when he
regained consciousness, the two young actresses headed off for Bernadette's
trailer to rehearse a few of the scenes from chapter seven.
*----------------*----------------*----------------*
Dazed and sore, Aquillae slowly pulled himself up to a sitting position.
The area was completely dark. He rubbed his eyes. Struggling against the
tight fit of his clothes, he made the effort to stand. And as he reached an
upright stance the darkness was slowly pieced by colored lights. Aquillae
stood in horror at the scene before him.
The bar had changed into what appeared to be a dance stage with two tall
poles rising up from the stage. The sexy teenage girls had changed to big
hairy men. And his retro sixties outfit was replaced by a tight fitting,
shimmering black leather outfit.
As his mind began to adjust to the new situation, he heard a voice from
somewhere in the outer edge of the darkness speak. "Good evening. And
welcome to the Blue Kat Club. First up on the stage tonight is everybody's
favorite dancing queen swinging it to `Feel Like A Woman'. Let's give it up
for Aquillae!"
There was a roar of applause and several cat calls as the lights brightened
and the music began to play.
From the right a big, brawny lumberjack whistled and called out to Aquillae,
"Hay sweetie! Who's you're daddy?"
Fin
Aquillae
Aquillae@excite.com
"A satisfied virgin is a virgin no more."
Mr. Lucus 'Are You Being Served'
_______________________________________________________
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Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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