Author’s Note: Love is beautiful and strange, like a three-legged horny toad on your wedding day. Illogical, wonderful, spontaneous, and dangerous, it is the stuff of life. With my story “Bloody Pixels: A Forbidden Romance” I try to show how love can blossom in the most unlikely situations, and how its victims are helpless against the forbidden lures. When I first set out to capture these raw emotions into an action packed video game boxing story, most of my friends and colleagues called me a fool. Sunday writer and Mexican “Spokker Jones” went so far as to call me a “stupid asshole”. Despite the misgivings of my peers, I persevered with my literary dreams, and after three long days of dictating the tale to my manservant, Jupiter, it was finally completed.
Actually it's been almost impossible for me to write anything lately because the cretins at my work are actually making me work. A few months ago they gave me a promotion with some sparkly stars and unicorn stickers, but they also gave me tons of responsibility and a slight amount of power. The fools! To make matters worse, some of the managers I work for are totally incompetent and force me to work overtime at their ranches clubbing baby seals, drilling for oil, and giving blowjobs. Such is the life of a corporate lackey. But I digress.
The callused foot of corporate America cannot squash my vision of unchained romance. In the tradition of great writers like Danielle Steele and Judy Blume, I hope to make your hearts soar and your genitals weep openly in excitement. Feel free to print out this update for your special someone this Valentine’s Day and say you wrote it yourself. I would be flattered as such and lawsuits would only be issued if I really needed some extra cash. Please enjoy the story.
The Blue Player jabbed left, then right, then left again. The Beige Player didn’t stand a chance against the flurry of punches. He dodged and ducked to no avail as one hit after another landed, depleting his energy to zero. The Beige Player fell to the mat, knocked out and no longer able to fight. Once again the Blue Player was victorious over his opponent as he climbed one rung closer to the ultimate victory of the Intellivision World Boxing Championship.
Despite the Blue Player's winning ways in the ring, things were not okay at his homestead. His wife didn't appreciate his punching talents, and wanted him to quit boxing and move to Arizona to raise poodles. When he returned home after the fight, he tried telling her about how he punched the Beige Player so hard that him made him throw up, but she just ignored him and continued knitting a sweater for her favorite poodle Pepe. The Blue Player hated Pepe and secretly planned to poison his water dish one day. It was a loveless marriage, and the Blue Player was unhappy.
His next opponent was an up and coming boxer called the Red Player. He was tearing through the boxing circuit with ruthless efficiency and making a name for himself pretty quickly. The Blue Player couldn't wait to fight him and humble the sassy rookie boxer with his right hook and head butts. On the night of the fight, the Blue Player was about to leave his house for the stadium and tried kissing his wife goodbye. She refused to kiss him and was crying over Pepe, who had fallen violently ill for some mysterious reason. The Blue Player left the house, and unknown to him at the time, he would never come back.
The Blue Player was pumped up for a good fight. He danced around the ring as they announced him and his impressive record of supremacy. Then they announced the Red Player and he ran out of the tunnel and into the ring. The Blue Player couldn't move. It was like a barbed arrow that had been dipped in molasses was shot into his heart, sending the sweet syrup through his arms and legs and giving him an erection. His spirit was like a trapped dove that was finally let out of its cage and could soar to the heavens. How could he fight this man who was so perfect and graceful? He quickly snapped out of his trance as the bell rang and they began to fight. They first felt each other out with a few quick jabs and ducks, dancing around each other in a savage jungle rhythm. The Blue Player could see that the Red Player was just as star struck as he was and he looked at him longingly until his manager started screaming at him. They reluctantly started boxing each other, jabbing and punching, but careful not to hit the face.
Then it happened. It was quick, but it would be something that would forever change their lives and the boxing community as a whole. The Red Player accidently punched the Blue Player below the belt. There was pandemonium in the crowd as the ref disqualified the Red Player for violating the rules and raised the Blue Player’s hand in victory. Then the whole crowd was silenced with a hush when they all saw the Blue Player’s raging erection in his boxer shorts. The Red Player’s gloved hand had touched his special area, and he couldn’t contain the excitement that was growing in his loins. The Red Player looked in shock at the sight and a smile flashed across his face, despite losing the match. The Blue Player ran away from the ring abashed at the public display of affection, and went to the local bar for a few drinks.
He sat there for a long time sipping dry martinis and looking woefully into the peanut dish. How could this be? What kind of sick, twisted puppet master was causing him to fall madly in love with a boxing opponent? Sal, the barkeep, poured him another drink. “But I didn’t order anything!” protested the Blue Player. “Complements of the boxer across the bar,” Sal said and winked. The Blue Player glanced over the see the Red Player on the other side of the bar, raising his glass in salutations. He walked over and sat next to him. “That was a great fight huh?” asked the Blue Player. “Shut up and kiss me,” the Red Player demanded. And they did. All night long they drank of the sweet alcohol and french kissed under the stained glass lights of the little bar.
“We shouldn’t be doing this!” pleaded the Blue Player as he fumbled up the to stairs the honeymoon suit they rented for the hour. “Yes, we may be fools, but we cannot deny this. This love. Our love,” said the Red Player. They both fell on the heart-shaped bed together, kissing like mad fools and touching each other’s forbidden fruits. This was a love that could not be, for if their secret was found out, they would both be disbarred by the boxing commission and could face criminal proceedings due to the law at the time. It was a dangerous love, and that fact only added to the sense of excitement of what they were doing. The Red Player leaned against the wall and the Blue Player entered him from behind. They became legion, one soul that was locked in a flash of beauty for infinity. Then he came in his butt and they went to Denny’s for some late night breakfast.
The next morning, the Blue Player’s manager called him and said that he was to rematch the Red Player for the championship title. It was terrible news, for he didn’t want to have to fight his true love for the championship he’d longed for since he was a child. He had to make a choice, and he didn’t know what he was going to do. Even more puzzling was guessing what the Red Player was going to do. He called him up to talk about it. Neither wanted to concede victory, but they still deeply loved each other. The Blue Player decided that the fight must go on, and they would have to put their relationship on hold for now. This really upset the Red Player because he felt that the championship belt meant more to him. The Blue Player tried to talk to him, but he was given the silent treatment and they both hung up angry with each other.
It was time for the championship fight. Both the Blue and Red Players were in the ring and ready to fight. Scorned love made for a lethal cocktail of violence, and both of them couldn’t wait for the fight to start. When it finally did, all the love they felt the night before was transformed into hormone fueled rage. They pounded each other ruthlessly with punches about the face and body. The Blue Player was the first to fall to the mat, and barely got up before the ref counted to 10. Then it was the Red Players’s turn to go down. But he did not get up, nor would he ever get up again. The arching punch that was dealt to him by the Blue Player had severed his vertebrae in his spine, and he lost all motor functions below his waist. His head rested on the ropes as the ref counted him out and declared the Blue Player the champion of the Intellivision boxing circuit. The Blue Player’s eyes filled with tears and he threw the belt away from him in disgust. What had he done? He had thrown away his first real chance at happiness for personal glory and fame. He never wanted to box again.
Epilogue: It had been two months since the Blue Player gave up boxing. He had a job interview that morning as an account manager. This was a brand new life for him, a chance to get away from his hurtful past. The Red Player was crippled for life and blamed him for ruining his career, his wife left him after she found the poison that killed Pepe in his sock drawer, and he quit boxing at the peak of his game, much to the anger of his manager and fans. Things would be different now that he was probably going to be working at the prestigious World Trade Center tower, handling finances from around the globe. Just as he was wrapping up his job interview on the 65th floor, the Blue Player happened to look out the window to see an approaching 737 that was flying right towards the building. At the controls was the Red Player with the glazed look in his eyes of a scorned lover, jealous and eager for revenge. Before he could shout, the plane penetrated the building and ejaculated jet fuel into the building in an orgy of fire and destruction. They both were incinerated and as their souls floated up into the heaven, they became intermingled and once again were unioned to live happily ever after in the clouds. The End.
I hope you liked the story. Love is an amazing thing and we all have to remember to never let it go, even if it begs for it’s life and offers you money. Keep your love chained in the basement, feed it well, and make it rub the lotion on the skin or it gets the hose again. Have a happy Valentines Day!
As the 19th century diver approaches a giant clam, a flash of brilliant golden light flares from within the shell. I emerge in a swirl of bubbles and do the timeless universal underwater hand signals for the following: ZODIAC KILLER, KKK, BLOOD OF YOUTH
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