Slashfic Summer: Requiem for a Heartache

This is kind of, sorta a parody of Dream Me for a Tragedy. If you can’t access LiveJournal, it’s a slashfic starring Sidney Crosby and Jordan Staal where Staal has HIV (thanks, Wrap!) It was so over the top and melodramatic, I feltI had to do a tribute of my own.

Lee Stempniak was hungry for something mere food couldn’t provide. He and Mike Van Ryn had be only friends when they first met, but coming to Toronto had made them both realize that they had something deeper and more meaningful between them. Lee kissed Mike deeply, his hot tongue probing and pulsating with urgent need.Mike knew what they both wanted and needed, but he also knew something Lee didn’t know, Mike pushed Leeaway. “Lee, no. We can’t...” he added. “What do you mean ‘we can’t’?” asked Lee, flames of desire still burning in his eyes. “Lee”, Mike stammered, “We...”. He sighed. “I have HIV.”

The color drained from Lee’s face. “Oh.” he said. All he could say was ‘Oh.” The pair looked at each other for whatseemed like forever until they both started to cry. With the tears came Mike’s story--a drug addicted nurse injected herself and then her patients, and Mike had the awful luck of being under her care after one of his many injuries. Leestopped sobbing long enough to choke out “But...how did you get to the NHL, where guys are always getting cut andthere’s blood all over, without anyone knowing you have HIV? That doesn’t make any goddamn sense. Look, this is hard and I think I need some space to think things out. I should leave.”

Mike looked puzzled. “But Lee...isn’t this your house?” he asked

Lee sniffed and answered, “Oh, yeah. Right. Listen, not to be a total dick, but uh...”
Mike stopped him. “Yeah, I’ll get going. So...see you at practice tomorrow?” Lee nodded as Mike left.

The next day at practice, Lee felt like lead. He wondered if anyone else knew about Mike’s HIV. Surely the trainersmust know, since they would be the ones dealing with an injury. Lee’s contemplation was broken by the entrance of Matt Stajan and John Mitchell, joking around as usual.

“...so I’m like, ‘That’s what your mom said!’” laughed Matt.

“Oh man, that’s good”, giggled John “You gotta see this crazy guy I saw last night--I have his picture on my phone.”John turned on his phone and suddenly he yelled, “What the fuck? My phone fuckin’ died on me!”

“Heh, maybe it has teh AIDS”, chuckled Matt.

“Yeah, it’s got phone AIDS” sniggered John.

"You guys shouldn’t joke about that,” Lee interjected. “People die from AIDS every day and it’s not a fun death.”

“People die of cancer all the time--way more than AIDS--and that doesn’t stop Jason Blake from making cancer jokes”, returned John.

Jason turned around at the mention of his name. “That’s different”, he said. “If you make cancer jokes, you’re still an insensitive jerk. If I make cancer jokes, it’s OK because I’ve earned it.. If you survive cancer, you get to make all thecancer jokes you want. You even get a little card and everything.”

Practice went normally, with Lee dutifully fulfilling the role of teammate and player. After the skate, which CoachWilson was going over some plays, Lee realized he couldn’t keep silent anymore. “OK, so Van Ryn, you go--” Lee stood up and cut off his coach.

“And Van Ryn is a jackass!” cried Lee. “Seriously Mike, you thought you could go on forever and not tell anyone you’re sick? What the FUCK, MIKE?!”

Mike tried to defend himself : “Look, my counts are good, “I’m as healthy as I can be--”

Lee cut him off: “How could you be so STUPID, MIKE?” He continued quietly. “How could you be so selfish? All those long, late night talks about honesty and trust and you couldn’t mention ‘Oh, by the way, I have AIDS’?

“I do NOT have AIDS. I have HIV, you asshole!” yelled Mike.

“See, this is why I don’t date teammates” Matt whispered to John.
“You’re gay?” asked John.
“I’m bisexual, asshat”, snorted Matt.

Lee left the room, not caring he was still in full gear, with tears and sobs pouring out of him.

Nothing could have prepared Mike for the visit he had from Matt Stajan the next day. “Mike, “ said Matt, “I dunno how to say this, but...Lee Stempniak died last night. He accidentally fell down a flight of stairs and broke his neck.But at least the docs don’t think he suffered at all. The way he landed, he was probably dead before you could say‘Deus ex machina.’”

Mike was stunned. He and Lee were supposed to separate after HIV decaying into AIDS becoming the death sentence, not through some quick and stupid accident.

“I never said I was sorry.” Mike sighed.

Slash Fic Summer Entry: Being Tomas Kaberle

First entry into the contest! I'm not revealing authors until I decide a winner, because I can and I want to be all mysterious-like.

Being Tomas Kaberle

I don't know why everybody in Toronto wants to trade me. All I've ever done is my best for this team, yet the fans care more about some random prospect who might be a good player than an All-Star who loves the city and doesn't care how much money he is making. Lately I've been really hurting inside because of this. What did I do? Whose feelings did I ever hurt? And why do so many people want to hurt mine?

I need to sort this all out, I need somebody to hold me and tell me everything will be all right. Pavel Kubina used to be my go-to guy for this sort of thing. He was always so caring. Always giving me these deep stares from across the room, like he wanted to say something deep and profound but couldn't. No words were ever needed, I just felt safe knowing his eyes were on me. But now he's gone, and I will need a new hetero soulmate if I am ever to get myself through all this pain.

Everyone always talks about what a good guy Matt Stajan is, so I thought maybe I'd ask him for some advice. I found him at the rink handing out puppies to sick kids. "Matt," I said, "what do you do when you are depressed and the whole world seems to be against you?" "Well Tomas," he said, "I just find a big, beautiful pair of eyes to stare into while I pour my heart out and have a good cry. Like when Carlo and Steener were traded, that broke my heart so much." Right then and there I wanted to tell him how beautiful his eyes were, and how I could really use a friend like him, but before I could say anything he pulled out a compact mirror, stared deeply into his own reflection and murmured softly, "Carlo ... Steener ... why?" as he started to weep uncontrollably.

At a loss for what to do, I patted him awkwardly on the head and wandered over to the exercise room to work out my frustrations. Walking in, I spotted Ron Wilson doing his morning workout routine, swinging wildly at a life-sized Howard Berger blowup doll. "Coach Wilson," I asked between haymakers, "I am depressed. Everyone wants me traded. Why?"

"Well Tomas," he said, wiping the blood from his knuckles, "when things don't go well in this town, everyone tries to place blame. Usually they pick the guy they expected to lead the team over the top. And when the team fails, the fans decide they need to go another direction. They decide that player can't help them and must be traded, no matter how talented he is or hard they tried to help the team win.”

“What do you mean?” I asked. “Are you saying I am that player?”

“Basically,” he said, placing a bloodied hand on my shoulder, “you've become Bryan McCabe."

"Oh," I said. All I could say was "Oh".

Has it really come to this? Am I Bryan McCabe? I wanted to tell Coach Wilson how much I missed Caber and all those nights on the town, and how much he would have loved to have coached a player with such a big heart. But before I could blurt it out, Coach Wilson cut me off. "Sorry Tomas,” he said in a dismissive tone, “I'd love to keep chatting but I've got to go bench press Simmons right now."

Reflecting on my conversation with Coach Wilson, I came to the sudden, sad realization that my time in Toronto may be done. I love this city and this team, but maybe Caber was right, maybe a fresh start isn't as a bad as it first seems. Perhaps I could even join my good friend Kyle Wellwood in Vancouver. After all, he says there is a bakery near the beach with muffins to absolutely die for. Mmm, sweet, gooey, delicious melt-in-your-mouth muffins ... I'm starting to feel better already!

Czech Mates, part 2

Czech Mates Part 1



There are still no entries in the Slash fic Summer contest, so here is Czech Mates 2 to spark your creativity. As before, this is from Pavel Kubina's perspective.

I knew my chance to reach Tomas was getting smaller all of the time. At the end of the season, I knew I would be open game to be traded, and I wouldn’t see him except as an opponent. It made me sad and nervous that I only had maybe one more chance to talk to him before it was too late.

There was a Leafs end of the season party, and so I went. I put on some of my best clothes, and I even shaved. I triedto get myself excited and pumped up for the party. I thought “Tomas will have to notice me now.” But then I feltself-doubt creeping in. I thought, “What if he doesn’t laugh at my jokes? What if he’s not interested in me like I’minterested in him? I shouldn’t even go--I’ll just look like a fool anyway. Maybe I should just stay home and watch cartoons.” I stopped and looked in the mirror. “Pavel”, I said, “you’re a handsome man, you’re fun to be around, you work hard, you’re full of energy, and you’re all around a good guy. Who wouldn’t want you as a buddy? You’re going to go to that party and have a good time!”

The party wasn’t anything special--just the guys hanging out, having some drinks, telling stories about each other,Jason Blake trying to convince the rookies to do dumb stuff. In other words, the usual. I saw Tomas all alone in a corner, like he usually was. Even in his own house with his closest friends, he was still so shy. It was something Iliked about him--he never needed to show off or impress anyone. He at least made an effort to go to things like thiseven though I could tell he’d rather not. Maybe all he needed was a little help from the right person, a very close friend, and he could be more comfortable in himself....

I tried to talk to him as something deeper than teammate and “guy I know.” I really did try so very hard. But I stumbled and stuttered and he stumbled and stammered back. We ended up trading short, pleasant bits about theparty, how the weather was finally getting better and stupid stuff like that.

I went to get another drink in hopes that when I came back I would be bolder. and still I couldn’t talk to him like I wanted. I finally excused myself for “another drink” and asked my friend Matt Stajan for advice. I didn’t know if hecould be of any help, but anything he said had to be better than listening to my inner voice calling me an idiot. I explained my situation and Matt told me, “If you really want him to notice you, just grab his ass. It’s how we roll inMississauga.”
“Oh.” I said. All I could say was “oh.” I knew I couldn’t have enough courage to be so bold with Tomas. If anything,a move like that would scare him away. I thought that maybe if I sent him an email later, explaining how I felt, maybe if I could talk with him when it was just us, he could be a little more at ease. But part of me gave up that night, simply because I could never have the courage, no matter how much I wanted it.

I tried talking to Tomas one more time, and it was still awkward and hard. The night between us ended in a long hug.I could feel that Tomas wanted something but he also didn’t have the nerve to say something. I left empty handed and heavy hearted. I kept looking over my shoulder and thinking I could go back...but I know that was just my dumb heart talking and that maybe I should listen to my head instead.

Marketing Type People have my email?

So I checked my email this morning and among the replies to witty comments on other blogs and Indians wanting to increase my manhood, I got a rather long email from Michael Braun. Apparently Michael is some sort of media type (he had an address and such for ICED media, which may be legit but I have been too lazy to look up.) Basically it was telling me stuff I already knew about "The Love Guru"--Mike Myers, Justin Timberlake's "Quebec pizaa like in da porno!", blah blah blah. but then I saw this bit:


Also, the NHL has produced their own trailer for the movie. Check out the link and the article below. And let me know if you post anything so we can send it off to Paramount and Mike Myers (who is very involved in the online marketing of this movie). And please be sure to link to the youtube channel for The Love Guru for exclusive video content.


Thanks!
For more exclusive video: www.youtube.com/theloveguru
http://www.nhl.tv/team/console.jsp?catid=3&id=16368

It then goes on to give a brief summary of the movie plot, people in it, whatever (although the line "Mike Myers in his first original character since Austin Powers" was kind of funny.) The email then goes on to talk about how the NHL "provided Myers and Paramount Pictures unprecedented access and rights, including the use of NHL marks and NHL game action footage, permission and facilitation to film inside NHL arenas, and guest appearances by NHL players and the Stanley Cup, the most revered trophy in all professional sports, marking its first starring turn in a feature film." Then it goes on (it's a long email) and talks about how the NHL marketing folks are going to push this movie a lot and offer exclusive content and retail activations on NHL.com "including “The Love Guru” advice column, cast player faux biographies, blogs and behind-the-scenes video clips and photo galleries."

While I'm all for eth NHL open up its marketing to increase fan bases, I have two questions, especially for fellow Leafs-bloggers (even though other folks can answer if desired:
1) Am I the only one who got this email, or was it some sort of spamming thing?
2) When the hell did I become a legit blogger? As in legit enough to get exclusive emails about stuff that's been leaked in the internet for several months?

The most interesting part came near the end, with this bit:


In 2006, the NHL signed with the William Morris Agency, which resulted in an integrated marketing campaign with Warner Bros. to promote the 2007 blockbuster feature film, “300.”

So for all of you wondering about the out-of-place, Homoerotic Spartan at the Sens game, I think I found an answer. Ithas also added "bring a gay pride flag to an NHL game" to my lsit of thing to do before I die.

Ok, for going through such a wordy post, here's some nice Youtubeage of TRULY homoerotic versions of 300: