The Dark Balloon

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FanFiction Fan Fiction: cooking with fire.

Last time on FanFiction Fan Fiction, things—hot things—happened. And now: more things.

jark1821 closed his eyes and leaned forward. xli’s love vessel quivered with anticipation and controlled sexual epilepsy. Their fingers entwined and their flesh turned to jelly, grape jelly, not the chunky apple jelly the cafeteria serves when it’s out of regular grape jelly that everybody likes, real jelly that you could spread on hot love bread, the kind, you know, that’s delicious.

jark1821 closed and locked the door. They disrobed as parts of their jelly bodies plopped to the floor. They stepped closer and closer to each other until their jellies were one, and it was impossible for the up-until-now innocent bystander to tell the two apart from the single, purple writhing mass of unspeakable romance and contraception and perhaps a little peanut butter sandwiched, heavenly sandwiched, between the yeasty carpet and roof.

Their love started as an exposition. Characters were introduced, like notes on a blank staff on a music sheet sitting on the piano of an elderly woman waiting for her cookies to finish baking in the oven her grandson bought for her so that he may, also, enjoy cookies, if only he had visited more often before the car accident. Characters were given backstories; the notes were given melodies. Relationships were established; notes were converted from C to C sharp. A racial slur; a musical slur. Conflict!; crescendo! Metaphors!; leitmotifs! Character development; waltz accompaniment. The plot builds and builds into a trill, shrill and high and unwavering. There’s a burst of staccato violence—the bass peaks—and then an adagio denouement. The stench of literature and music filled the sandwich room as the meat of the sandwich breathed and punctuated and composed itself. And only the twinge of regret could be felt-seen-tasted-heard.

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FanFiction fan fiction: the consequences of holding it in.

It was a dark and lonely night. The staff at FanFiction.net had all left except for xli—the founder and boss of FF.net who in this story bears absolutely no resemblance to Xing Li except for job, name, and personality—and jark1821. Thunder pounded the fertile skies outside. Also, it was raining.

“Gosh, this weather is so moist,” jark1821 thought to himself. He had just moved into LA. He wanted to be an actor, but he needed connections first. He would do anything for a connection.

xli sat in her desk, recovering from a recent hormone therapy session as post-op for her recent sexual reassignment surgery. She worked late each night. There was no time for a love life, she told herself. Where would she find the right person?

jark1821 approved the last of the story submissions for the night. He worked in the moderation and re-categorization departments. With any luck, he would be promoted to abuse and private messaging. He would do anything for that promotion.

xli unlocked her desk cabinet and reached into it. She pulled out one of her toys. It kept her company. How she yearned to let go of the tension inside. If only she could find the right person, she thought. But, right now, she would do anything to unleash the violent eddies within her petite frame.

jark1821 put his computer on standby like you’re supposed to instead of shutting it down each night, which drives your technologically literate friend crazy and even though he mentions it all the time you never listen. jark1821 walked down the hallway to say goodbye to his boss.

He reached for the door handle.

xli continued squeezing, squeezing for false love.

He continued to reach for the door handle. Then he remembered he had to go to the bathroom.

xli paused. Did she hear something outside? No. It must’ve been the wind coming from this windowless floor of an office complex.

jark1821 decided to say goodbye first. He opened the door and gasped.

xli dropped her plushie and blushed.

“xli?” he spelled out, questioningly with a hint of romantic exploration.

“I thought I locked the door,” she muttered, not looking at jark1821 in the eyes.

“I was going to pee.”

“Really?” she said.

He walked beside her, put his hand on her chin, and raised her eyes up to his.

“Really.”

The toy lay on the floor, embarrassed.