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Entry tags:	defeating commander jonathan johnson, original

Defeating Commander Jonathan Johnson, Mission Eight

Author: Mushroom
Rating: PG-13 (OMFG is it true?!)
Summary: Dave Austin has been exiled in the desolate planet of Randa. He is alone.
Disclaimer: All geeky stuff, ideas and quotes were spawned by other greater people than moi.

Notes: Sorry for the late post, dearies. Been feeling pretty down lately. And such is reflected on this mission itself.



MISSION EIGHT: KNOW THYSELF

***

”I think people who speak in metaphors should shampoo my crotch.” - As good as it gets



“Isn’t this just so cool, Dave?” Colin yelled excitedly over the hoots and screams from the audience. Before the much awaited cosplay modeling show, there were a few performances and surprise appearances from guest stars. All sorts of geeks, from the well-endowed beauty to the pimple-faced wreck, sighed in lust as one of the most promising young actors in the country arrived, claiming he was just as nerdy as the rest of them. There were magic shows, exhibitions and discussions, which were presented by two very comical hosts. Yet amidst the buzz and excitement Dave was still as bored as hell. He engaged in one of his favorite hobbies, the Ogle-at-Colin’s-Youthful-Features (second only to Daydream of Colin, Victorian Homes, and Golden Retrievers), and the Reynaldo dude noticed his hopeless reverie.

He nudged Dave, who just defeated his record of keeping his eyes open for several seconds. “We have to take on our positions now. Commander Jonathan Johnson has to take the lead...that is, if YOU are a true Commander Jonathan Johnson in spirit. You should be scurrying off to your own troop, Gulliver.”

Colin glanced down at his furry toes and nodded. “I’ll be with the rest of the hobbits.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot what’s that supposed to mean.” Dave’s eyes strayed on his feet and cringed at the sight of their mutated figures.

The redhead gave him a puzzled look. “Hobbits? You’re mental if you don’t know what they are. They’re those short, plump guys with hairy feet…remember those visuals I showed you?” Apparently Dave couldn’t, so Colin huffed and continued, “In plain and non-Vulcan language, they’re Halflings.”

“What the heck are—“

“Stop stalling you two, we have to get READY!” Reynaldo Phoenix hissed, his face as red as his inflamed boots. “Our guild won’t win the finals if we mess things up.”

Dave was about to shoot off a nasty comeback but then he remembered his argument with Colin earlier. The redhead gave another shy smile and trotted off to his fellow halflings, and so Dave Austin was left to meddle with the weird squad.

One of the Kaldop aliens were murmuring “dick”, “Johnson” and “butt” in most of their casual conversations, making Dave as paranoid as hell. He tried to ignore the whispering from all the aliens and creatures, and concentrated on his supposed leading lady, the Princess of Jamalia…who was also probably the biggest, most conspicuous eyesore in the tent.

As much as he would like to be turned on by her bursting bust size (Well, he could never be turned on, because he was an established poof already), everything else about her was wrong, and we are not talking only about physical aspects. Dave found himself gagging at her uncouthly habits and hideous make-up (“I’m sure she didn’t look like that in the novels.”). He was about to center his attention somewhere else when she caught him staring.

“What are you looking at?” There were her breasts again, jiggling and acting like the spokespersons through her hushed, deadpan voice. “Do not fantasize about me. I know you are supposed to be my love interest and all that, but I do not fancy males who dress in drag.” She pointed her lips towards his gleaming spandex, and he glared back at her, fists wanting to punch and feel blood.

“I DO not dress in drag. Don’t typecast me like that.”

“Fine, I will reword my phrase.” She sucked her cheeks and Dave’s insides jolted. “I do not fancy males who prefer…other…unfortunately male…species.”

Dave snorted. “That’s alright with me, ice queen, since I don’t prefer females who look UNFORTUNATELY male.”

She was not daunted, and took a step forward. “Tell me, Mr. Austin…have you been fooling around with your lightsaber lately? Gulliver’s such a fresh prize.”

He gaped at her. “Tha-That’s none of your…nasty, that is—”

“Hmmm…I sense much fear in you, Austin…I believe you shall disrupt the balance today.”

Damn, not another one of those student counselor clones…

“Be quiet, you two. We’re heading on stage now.” Mr. Coreslayer prodded them with his laser rifle. The princess rolled her eyes and went back to her position in line, and Dave heaved a sigh. He shuffled back to his place in line, and strange rave music started blaring from the loudspeakers. All the cosplayers were lined up at the sides, so they could still view the other contestants ramping on the stage with their outfits as the judges observed them and wrote down their verdicts.

All of a sudden Dave Austin felt nervous. His hands clenched as he tried to stop himself from shaking involuntarily, and the air was starting to become rotten and stuffy. It’s okay Dave, you’ll just go walk around and pose for a bit, then you’re back down with Colin again. He imagined Colin’s assuring fingers glide up comfortably on his hand, and he relaxed.

“Damn, those lights sure are many.” A woman spectator mused. Her companion nodded.

“Must be stifling there, too.”

That was when it hit him.

OH DAMN. OOOOOHHHHH DAMN. DAMNDAMNDAMNDAMN

‘Posing for a while’ was his doom.

There were bright lights. All sorts of lights, lined up above their heads, in various colors and shapes. And there was the spotlight, oh, the one that garnered the featured individual. Under that light was fame, fortune and—to Dave’s chagrin—humiliation.

All those bright lights were going to focus on him…as if his sparkly outfit wasn’t enough to blind the audience. He hoped that it would blind them permanently though, for strutting onstage meant direct light and heat contact towards his crotch. He already had to deal with mental grief and defamation on his virgin privates, but a whole crowd of eager Commander Jonathan Johnson fanatics gazing up at his one figure of sexuality was OUT OF HAND. And that was an understatement. There were about more than a hundred people out there, clutching cameras and wearing Liberation shirts, eager to meet their hero as he strides down the aisle with bountiful smiles and a wagging Hello Penis, as he so furtively christened it.

Dave recalled that crazed pilot from Neon Genesis Evangelion, the anime show that made him and Colin discover their cozy hormones.

I want to run away…

I mustn’t run away…

I musn’t run away…

Dave wanted to fly. He wanted to turn back and hurl himself into the open sea. He wanted to be Dave Austin, not everybody’s idol. His crotch was at stake.

For Colin.

Colin.

Colin was so happy when I wore this outfit…the kids…okay, so they were little demons, but they were sorta happy, too.

People admire me. I’ve never experienced that before Not a bad thing, come to think of it.

“And here are the much-loved characters from the LORD OF THE RINGS guild!” The hosts boomed.

His eyes instantly spotted Colin, with frizzy red hair that matched the abomination on his toes, and the redhead was obviously taken aback by the amount of squeals and paparazzi-sounding camera shots he received. Dave felt his heart beat so strongly when Colin beamed at the welcoming horde of believers, and once Saruman was done waving his staff about they lined up and clambered down the stage after giving a few heartfelt waves. The noise died down again, turning into muted undertones of anticipation, and Dave caught Colin’s eye while they were both on other sides of the hall.

Did I look cool? Colin’s eyes asked gently.

Very cool. Dave’s own eyes were aching with emotion. This was a big deal for Colin, to be finally acknowledged by other people. He should know; after years of observing and realizing what his loved one yearned for. Dave wanted to be the one to give it to him, but he knew it was impossible. That was why he settled on the material gifts, but he set his heart to the task of buying or creating them.

The redhead gave him a teasing frown. Biased.

It was very special, that intimate conversation between two friends. It lasted for a mere three seconds, and would be forgotten for many days.


***

If you do not listen, the HELL with you!" - Conan The Barbarian





“And now…the moment we’ve all been waiting for…”

“Can’t he be more creative than that?” Dave complained at the one beside him, when he found out it was one of the Doom-jecters. The doom-jecter casted him a one-eyed look that meant destruction of the human race, so he zipped his mouth.

“…HONORABLE COMMANDER JONATHAN JOHNSON AND THE CROMPAY ALPHA AMP X13-0GB FLEET FROM THE LIBERATION FRONTIER OF SHOWERS!!!!”

Dave snickered. “That was one big pile of lengthy bull…SHIT!” He felt fingers aim for his legs and hips as he literally crawled up the stage, being prodded on the ass by one of the Doom-jecter’s turbo plasma beams. The screams from the audience were deafening now; Dave couldn’t hear nor see Colin down stage, but he knew he was cheering for him, and that gave him the confidence of a porn star. He strode on the ledges, pumped up his chest, tightened his belly, and showed off one of the leering glares his mother taught him during his prepubescent age. The audience’s reactions were a mixture of newfound bliss and dementia.

“OHMYGODLIKE,LIKE,LIKE…LIKE….”

“This is surreal…surreal..surreal…rreeeeaaaall…”

“Look Sonny, it’s the COMMANDER!!! In the FLEEEESSSSH!!!! And he’s got the laser beam thingyyy…” A father had his toddler up on his shoulders.

One woman was talking to her friend on the cellular phone. “HELLO?! Do you hear me?! YEAH, I COULD SEE HIS TORSO HERE IN THE LEFT WING! So you could see his CRACK? Hold on a sec, I’m heading there!”

“OHMYGODWHATTHEOHMYOHMYOHMY…HE’S SO HOT AS IN THREE HUNDRED AND THIRTY PERCENT HOOOT LIKE FORTY NINE DEGREES CELSIUS! WHOAAA……”

A reporter was by the exit, shouting at the top of her lungs. “Here in the Annual Sci-Fi Convention there is much squealing and shouting, caused by the timely appearance of a highly popular science fiction icon, the Commander with his band of extraterrestrials….”

The audience was going wild now; everybody’s hands were up in the air and the ground shook. Even the lovely hosts’ voices were overpowered by all the yelling, but Dave basked in the spotlight. Literally.

The heat from the light seeped through the cloth like a ravenous fire. Dave hurriedly looked down in horror and half-expected to see his lower half in fire. This time the crowd hooted and shirts were discarded, and even Reynaldo Phoenix smirked.

“That spectacle’s going to win us the finals.” He whispered conspiratorially as he modeled past. Finally it was Dave’s turn on the center stage, and the lights continued to burn him. The microphone looked up at him expectantly, eager to be abused.

And yet he had nothing to say.

The whole crowd was dead silent. They wore smiles nearly slicing off their heads, and their fingers were clutching their hearts. Ears were perked and bent on his holy words. The silence was mixed with passion, expectance and joy in seeing their beloved space hero in such an honorific event.

And yet he had nothing to say.

Colin was there, with a smile just as wide as the rest of them; but this smile was wider, because it was proud. It was the smile that said no words to describe his happiness.

And yet he had nothing to say.

What could a man say when faced with something like this? Nothing, of course. Dave was just your random spot on the wall. A spot that loved Colin Gulliver. Then he turned into a reluctant leader of an eerie cult in which meetings were held in orgasm-inducing locations. Then he turned into Commander Jonathan Johnson with just one very lonely (albeit cute) look from his best friend. What could he say? What should he do when endowed with spanking popularity?

Like the ordinary movie protagonist that he was, Dave Austin made the blunder that would traumatize little children drinking their slurpees for the rest of their lives.

Dave tried to flip his gun around his hand stylishly, but it merely slid off his arm and dropped on the metal plank with an ear-splitting CLAAAAAAAANG. Not one to be perturbed by a harmless mistake, (and besides, he hadn’t even practiced for that feat, things were quite candid up there) he proceeded to bulge his non-existent muscles, stretch his arms wildly, and shout, “It is I, Commander Jonathan Johnson!!!! I LOVE THE WORLD!!! I RUUUULE!!!!!!”

It was like one of those comedy flicks, where in complete silence an extremely annoying infant with a high-pitched voice would start wailing loudly. That was what exactly what happened, but this time it was not a baby. It was someone that closely resembled a grown man holding a wall scroll of Princess Leia in her golden bikini.

Dave Austin was not one to be petrified by blank stares and sagging cavities. He continued flexing his arms in what he hoped looked like a macho type of things to do.

“The savior of aliens! Zombies and predators! Children!” He was actually thinking of the bastards back in high school who used to bully them.

With this the spotlight vanished, his crotch was comfortably unseen, and the silence became daggers that constantly stabbed his guts.

The hosts looked haggard. One of them, the one with the wizard hat, rubbed his nose and sneezed on the microphone for everybody’s hearing pleasure.

“Uuuhhhhh…yeah. W-we’ll have a thirty-minute break before we…continue with the sequence…of events.” The other host sighed dramatically just as he finished speaking, and patted the back of his co-host as he went into a sneezing fit.

Oh god I just blew it. I just blew their image of Commander Jonafuck. Well what the hell am I supposed to say, anyway? I don’t know what Jonafuck would say to a bunch of fans, damn it! Oh wow. Now I’m really in for it.

While the once-renowned Crompay Alpha AMP fleet were scurrying down the stage, hiding their disgraced faces, the Princess of Jamalia jabbed his ribs with a plastic gun, which felt quite real (he could actually feel the metal alloy, the bullets just ringing to be fired). But what was more real were the death threats from the said fleet, flung at him from various sources that shared repulsive glares. But Dave didn’t care. Nope, death threats were an everyday sort of thing in his monochromatic life.

What he cared about was Colin. He saw his beloved at the far corner of the tent, hiding behind a bunch of colorful balloons. The hobbit was clearly upset over his display of utter atrocity, but managed to look back in Dave’s eyes as he hastily stalked past.

I didn’t look cool, huh. Dave’s eyes were full of shame.

Colin bit his lip. Nope, you weren’t.

Okay. Can I take off the suit now? Then maybe jump off the bridge, I heard the pool’s really deep down there, could take a while to pull me up again.

The geek boy’s expression was stony.

Reynaldo tapped him on the shoulder. “Gather your wits, imbecile. We still have the cosplay live action.”

“Huh?” Dave was already in the process of stripping off all his stupid clothing.

“We’re going to enact a scene from the graphic novels. Just remember the books, and we’ll be okay. I hope they pick the part of the book wherein Commander Jonathan Johnson was paralyzed. I mean, I LOVE HIM WITH EVERYTHING THAT I HAVE, but with you portraying him then it’s better if you don’t speak at all, and you just lie there while we save what’s left of this guild’s dignity.”

“Okay. I just have to go to Coli—“ His eyes scanned the now dissipating mob, and he spotted Colin talking animatedly with one of the Jedi masters. He automatically felt a stab of jealousy because his face was unlike the cold glare he gave him a while ago. It was flushed and back to its original freckled splendor.

He reluctantly turned back towards his guild. “But I don’t know anything about Liberation of Jonafuck’s whatsit—“

“WHAT?!” Reynaldo hollered, giving him a very fierce look with pulsating eyeballs (that were also in deep shade of strained red). “Gulliver told me that you read them!”

“Well yeah, but I didn’t really take them seriously, I was just looking facts on Comm JJ’s skills and all that…”

“Well, you certainly haven’t got them!” the other spat, and walked out on him in front of a mass of shocked teenagers. Dave apologized in his behalf and bought a large-sized coke to drown himself with.

***


”It is estimated that there are one billion stars, like ours, and in all the universe, there are one billion, billion, planets capable of supporting life, like ours. And in all of that, and maybe even more, there is only one of each of us. Don't destroy the one named Kirk.” - McCoy to Kirk, Star Trek




Dave had never felt so sick in his entire life.

He couldn’t even feel Colin’s warm hands on his palms anymore, even if he tried hard to think of them. Dave usually relied on his imagination to make him feel better, but everything just felt so fake at that time. Dave Austin looked back at Colin ruffling one of the wookies, and it seemed like he was in another planet. He was the guy with the sign that said “HELP ME”, but nobody understood him so they went on their way, occasionally laughing at his miserable appearance. He was the guy who was lost, the one who did not know a single soul.

He comforted himself by keeping an eye on someone that seemed miles away. Well, it was always like that, so he guessed that this was probably another one of those everyday things.

Okay, so the angsting bit comes now. Why am I doing this again?




MISSION FAILED. MEANWHILE, ABORT.

***

TO BE CONTINUED.