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Chapter Text

This is a world where the troll landed in Siberia in 1908. However, it is not wildly known that they live on Earth, with only a few in the USSR knowing it. Condesce is living in the United States as Mrs. Betty Crocker, married to her second husband Senator Sam Crocker after the death of her husband Congressman Jonathan Egbert, John’s father. 

Jake “Hass the Rock” Harley was born February 9, 1902 in Rome, Missouri to an African-American scullery maid at Sam Crocker’s family home and presumably her husband, the man she just married that day. His mother died six years later of measles and his mother’s husband abandoned him to his grandma. A couple years later, Jake adopted the name Harley. After going around the world, he married Alice Plein, a wealthy African-American spinster from Philadelphia. He fathered Jade and she was born in 1930. His wife died in 1934. He became a very wealthy businessman selling black hair supplies and in 1942 became a Republican congressman for Illinois’ 1st District (South Side Chicago). During some time in the 40s, Jake sued Mrs. Betty Crocker for libel when she called him the biggest Communist in the House of Representatives and he won. In the summer of 1950, John Egbert and Jade Harley met while both were vacationing in Deep Creek Lake, Maryland, and had a romance that ended too soon. In 1952, Jake Harley was elected senator for Illinois, in the same election where Sam Crocker was elected senator for California. However, Jade was suffering from increased seizures and had to go to the Wrench Institute in Montreal, where she met the lovely intern Miss Rose Lalonde. Meanwhile, Jake must learn to live without Jade, his constant companion over the years.

Roderick “Bro” Strider was born in 1918 to two newly-immigrated Italian-Americans. His original surname was Starvaggi. The family moved to Houston and the second son Dave was born in 1924. Bro Strider did not speak until he was five and Dave spoke when he was nine months, so their parents had more hope for Dave. The Starvaggi did gain some fortune from oil but lost it in the Wall Street Crash. They killed themselves for the insurance money but the insurance did not pay out on the suicide. Bro raised Dave from then on. He used his puppetry skills on the vaudeville circuit, supporting them that way. In World War 2, he served in the US Army in the Pacific and won a Medal of Honor by defeating a Japanese officer in katana-to-katana combat and causing his battalion to kill themselves. Dave joined the Army, though he did not serve in combat during World War 2. During the Korean War, Dave was a captain and he was saved by Sergeant John Egbert. John got a Medal of Honor and Bro offered him a job as his personal assistant, which John accepted. Eventually, John became Bro’s pianist and comedic sidekick on his radio show. 

Meanwhile, Senator Sam Crocker, formerly “Colonel Sassacre” of the 1930s movie comedy duo “Colonel Sassacre and Critter George”, continues his career of red-baiting and innuendos…

In terms watchers/readers of The Manchurian Candidate might understand, this story is as if Senator Tom Jordan and reporter Holborn Gaines did the fricky-frack. 

Chapter Text

It was the summer of 1955, the midpoint of the 1950s. The Warsaw Pact was formed when eight Communist Bloc countries including the Soviet Union signed a mutual defense treaty. The quiz program “The $64,000 Question” premiered on CBS with Hal March as host. The Loyalty Oath Act mandated that all public employees in Illinois take a loyalty oath to the United States or lose their job. Disneyland opened in Anaheim, California, to the joy of a certain psychiatrist in the Soviet Union. Emmett Till was tortured and lynched in Mississippi for allegedly whistling at a white woman. In the Soviet Republic of Finland, there was talk of secessionism and the people looked to the reclusive foreigner The Pessimist for help. The song “Rock Around the Clock” by Bill Haley & His Comets became the first rock and roll song to reach number one on the Billboard pop music chart, ushering in the age of rock and roll. The movie “The Seven Year Itch”, based on a play by George Axelrod and starring Marilyn Monroe as “The Girl”, hit theaters. The leaders of the United States, the Soviet Union, the United Kingdom, and France met in Geneva for an important summit.

On August 4th, 1955, that was the day Senator Jake “Hass the Rock” Harley and radio host and Medal of Honor recipient Dirk “Bro” Strider met. It was a turning point in their lives. Though they did not have the relationship that Bro had hoped they would have, it still was valuable. Mrs. Jawed Laghmani, formally Mrs. Jean-Marc Lalonde, was the second guest on the show, representing her astronomer husband abroad. She was a dyed-blond woman in her mid-forties with a Roman nose and a large bust and she wore an uncharacteristic pink dress that flaunted her figure. While it might be easy to categorize her as the third wheel she did play an important part in this drama. John Egbert, another Medal of Honor recipient and later the host of Bro’s show, was also there. Jake had met John Egbert before, at Deep Creek Lake, but they had only the most minimal interaction during the recording of this episode. Neither of them were interested in talking with each other due to the tension between them. Mrs. Laghmani interacted with John more than Jake did, flirting with the young pianist shamelessly.

Jake and Dirk were immediately taken by each other. Each seemed to fit their physical ideal for a man. They were both tall, though Dirk was over six feet tall and Jake was just under six feet, the better to fit into train cars on his former job as a Pullman Porter. Jake had wide shoulders, a barrel chest, tree trunk legs, strangely delicate hands, and a plump and firm rear. Dirk had wide shoulders but he was more slim, with long limbs and a small compact rear. Jake’s wavy hair, in-between the straight hair of white men and the coarse hair of other black people, was now mostly salt with a little pepper. He had a very fine distinguished mustache. His mouth sported two buck teeth but on him they looked charming. Dirk’s hair was blond, sandy blond, and it stirred distant memories in Jake of playing in the Missouri woods with a friend turned enemy, and of the cheerful white man called the Mayor who would always rub his head like Jake was family. Dirk’s face was shaved completely smooth, like hair had never grown there, a feat the former barber Jake marveled at. Dirk wore strange pointed glasses, the likes nobody in 1955 had seen. Jake’s skin was the color of tea on paper, the color of the muscular shirtless men Dirk’s late father showed him when they visited the oil rigs and Dirk got the wrong impression. Dirk’s skin was only a little lighter, as an Italian, and there were some freckles on his neck that suggested more freckles. They did check each other’s crotches and that showed potential too. When they shook hands, they immediately hoped that the other was up for sex. 

Jake spoke and his voice had never really escaped its youthful effeminacy, only compensating for manliness elsewhere, however he had replaced his Missouri Negro accent with a Transatlantic one seamlessly. Dirk could do several boisterous voices on radio but when he spoke privately it was in a deadpan whisper. When Dirk found out Jake knew American Sign Language, they immediately started communicating in that.

After lots of dull preparation, it came time for the show. The senator from Illinois was on to discuss politics and the scientist's wife from France to discuss a possible alien presense on Earth, but somehow the discussion turned to other matters.

“I am not against new things,” said Dirk, “But what you just described is a perversion of tradition, an abomination, an anathema to what I love and hold dear.”

“Oh come on, my good fellow,” Jake said, “Just hop and skip on a plane or train to the Windy City and try it out yourself! Your pucker will enjoy it.”

Dirk’s Sicilian puppet Roy came out, wielding a tiny stiletto knife. “Mama mia! Youse ain’t gonna make me eat-a da Chicago-style pizza! I cut youse!”

Jake said to the puppet, “Oh, I didn’t mean you any harm, my puppet chum from that big boot of Europe. You don’t have to eat the pizza. Nobody should be forced to do anything they don’t want in this rollicking free country of ours.”

Mrs. Laghmani added, “I’d eat it. Sounds like it would taste swell when you’re drunk, not that I’ve been drunk for years.”

“I cut-a da lady too!” said Roy.

Jake wagged his finger. “Not very chivalric of you. Apologize to the lady.”

“Oh, I’m-a so sorry.”

“Apology accepted,” Mrs. Laghmani replied, “But man am I hungry now.”

John Egbert started to play the song “That’s Amore” on the piano and everyone sang the song. All in all, it was a normal show.

After the show, Dirk went up to Jake and asked him via ASL if he’d like to come to Dirk’s apartment for coffee.

Jake answered out loud, “Yes, I would love an invigorating cup of bean juice!”

Mrs. Laghmani heard Jake and came over. “Oooh, I’d love to have coffee! Now that I don’t drink alcohol, I’ve been drinking so much coffee.”

Dirk liked this woman but didn’t want her to come. He did suppose it would look too homosexual to tell the busty blonde he only wanted to talk with this man and frankly his reputation could use a married woman coming into his apartment so he said yes. He figured he could blow her off later at some point.

“Thank you,” she said, “And again, call me Roxy.”

Dirk, Jake, and Roxy took a cab to Dirk’s apartment in the Upper West Side. On the ride, Roxy asked Jake a question.

“Jakey, what’s the deal with you and the pianist? You seemed so tense around the boy, and he was tense near you.”

“Oh,” said Jake, “We met at Deep Creek Lake while my daughter Jade and I were holidaying, though we usually holiday in Upper Peninsula Michigan, a much better spot in my opinion but I digress. He fell in love with her and was going to marry her but changed his mind. I think his wicked stepmother the Batterwitch stopped him.”

“The Batterwitch?”

“Mrs. Betty Crocker, Senator Crocker’s wife. The same vile woman I sued for libel in ‘48.”

“Ah, yeah. God, that sounds so damn evil of her, stopping young love like that. Are you angry at John for breaking Jade’s heart or do you blame it all of the Batterwitch’s wickedity wickedness?”

Truth be told, Jake just wanted John to stop existing. He did not want a son-in-law, no matter how good-hearted he was. “I just want John to go his own way.”

Roxy sat back. “Ah, yeah. Well, I’ve never had a son-in-law and probably never will.”

Dirk asked her, “You have children?”

“One child. In a past life. Virginia Rose. But I’ll never see her again.”

Dirk hadn’t been thinking much of Roxy but at this moment seeing how sad she was he did want to be her friend.

Jake said, “And our friend Dirk has a brother named Dave, who is like a son to him, so we each all have one child! What a kinetic kismet!”

Roxy cheered up. “Yeah, that’s right! Come on, Dirk, tell us about Dave.”

Dirk said, “Dave was talking at nine months and he talks so much now, I don’t know how he stayed silent on patrols in Korea.”

“My Ginny Rose knows every word in French and in English, she’s amazing!”

Jake added, “My pumpkin Jade knows about every plant, including pumpkins.”

So they all bounded by talking about their children, though they had limited interaction with those children now. The cab reached the address and Dirk paid. The three entered the swank apartment building and took the long elevator up to Dirk’s penthouse. Finally, the guest Jake and Roxy were confronted with a painting of a goat man hanging upside down from a tree being flayed alive hanging over Dirk’s Swedish midcentury leather sofa.

“Oh gadzooks,” said Jake.

“Oh holy wow,” said Roxy.

Dirk went into a practiced speech. “This is a reproduction of the Flaying of Marsyas by Titian, painted sometime in the 1570s by the master and not currently widely known to anyone but art scholars. It depicts a story from Ovid where Marsyas, the satyr, claimed to be a better musician than Apollo, seen with his anachronistic violin in the back, and challenged the god to a contest judged by King Midas, the king seen here, and of course lost. He was punished for his hubris by being flayed alive, yet look at the dignity he shows while undergoing this horrific act. This is because as a goat creature of Dionysus, his death is simply more Dionysian art, a ritual for the god of chaos. It was not his mere flute-playing that made him a greater artist than Apollo, it was his willingness to risk everything for his art. He is triumphant even in his destruction.”

“So like you?” Roxy asked.

“How so?” Dirk asked.

“I don’t know, I just assumed it was symbolic of you, otherwise why have this gross painting in your living room?”

Jake said, “If I were this goat chap Marsyas, I would have used my powerful goat legs to run off. He could have climbed to places in those mountains that not a soul in the world could get to, not even the big daddy Zeus himself. Try and flay me now, why don’t you?”

Dirk said, “But it was fate that said he had to be flayed.”

“Bloody stupid fate, then.”

When they were done admiring the painting, Jake and Roxy sat down at the kitchen bar while Dirk whipped up three coffees. They ended up being the most delicious coffees the two guests had ever had.

“It’s the darn queerest thing,” Jake said, “Sometimes coffee makes me all peppy and full of that vim and vigor, and sometimes it makes go beddy-bye.”

Roxy said, “I just feel relaxed on coffee.”

“Coffee makes me normal,” Dirk said.

“Well, I hope I get vim and vigor,” Jake said as he winked at Dirk.

After some more time drinking, Dirk said, “I must admit that it takes Herculean effort for me to talk out loud, so I don’t when I am off-the-clock. Please excuse me for going into American Sign Language from now on.”

Jake said, “I can translate for him.”

Roxy said, “I can understand where you’re coming from, Dirk. There should be a television show about a teenage girl who is totally perfect in the classroom, but after school in her home she’s totally a slob, and she meets a boy who is perfect all the time or is he???”

Dirk signed and Jake said, “Why is the character a girl?”

Roxy said, “I wonder that myself. Anyway, what if it were a Japanese cartoon?”

Dirk nodded his head in approval.

Jake begun, “I went to Japan in the ‘20s, after visiting Siam but before I visited Alaska, and I have some exotic yarns to tell.”

So Jake talked about his time in Japan, and Dirk started talking about his time in the Pacific Island-Hopping campaign, ending with the battle that gave him his Medal of Honor.

Jake, interpreting Dirk, said, “And so, as I stepped over the last Japanese soldier’s guts, I knew we had won this island.”

Roxy asked, “So they all killed themselves? Are they in Hell?”

Dirk now spoke, “I think they are in the void.”

“The void?”

He took off his glasses, showing his orange eyes. “It is a most horrible thing to not exist anymore, but sometimes life makes existence impossible. They’d be without honor if they lived.”

Roxy realized something about Dirk in that moment.

“Say,” said Jake, “Speaking of Siam, I have a spicy story there about a kathoey and a missing bracelet at a brothel…”

Jake told that story and more. The world-traveler had no end to his stories. Roxy and Dirk both enjoyed the conversation, but Dirk and Jake were experiencing more chemistry together. They were constantly looking at each other, eying each other up. Jake would wink to Dirk at several points, Dirk would touch Jake’s arm. It helped that Jake knew American Sign Language. Still, despite this, the conversation reached a dying point. Jake looked at the clock.

“There’s the problem,” he said, “The Great Emancipator has died.”

“Huh?” asked Roxy.

“They say at twenty past the hour, conversations die like Abraham Lincoln did, in the lap of his assassin’s brother’s ex-girlfriend.”

Roxy stood up. “I don’t think it’s a ghost. It’s me.”

Dirk looked concerned, though he did want Roxy to leave. He just felt bad about it.

Jake asked, “You’re leaving?”

“Yeah, I’m old enough to know when things are leading to a threesome and when I’m just the third wheel and you can call me the latter cause I’m on a roll.”

“You thought I would violate you?” Jake asked, “You are a married white woman.”

“I’m an Egyptian, that’s a race of its own, and my husband likes sleeping more with his grad boys than me, though I love him, and I don’t know if I’m even a woman, but yeah, I thought I had a chance.” She looked at Dirk directly. “Especially with you.”

Dirk felt sorry for Roxy, and perhaps wanted to leave some heterosexual breadcrumbs out there, so he went and took Roxy aside.

“Look, you know you have to leave, but I can at least give you this.”

So Dirk showed her the D.

“Oh wow!” she yelled, more amazed at that than the painting.

He put it away.

“Well, at least I’ll have memories of this night,” she said, “Until dementia gets them, I guess. Hey, want to exchange addresses as pen pals?”

Dirk Strider nodded his head and gave her his card. She gave him a card back.

“Have fun, boys!” she yelled, wishing she was included in ‘boys’.

And so Roxy left, leaving Dirk and Jake alone.

“Now,” said Jake, “I believe I can be more frank with you, now that the innocent white matron has left. You seem to me to be a worldly man, an open-minded man, who knows the pleasures of the Sotadic Zone.”

Dirk nodded.

“Perhaps we could wrestle naked, though we need to pick who is the winner, though I’d prefer us both to be the winner. I think we are both well-equipped to both be the winner, as manly as we both are. Do you get my drift or should I explain further?”

Dirk signed, “<You want to fuck me in the ass and have me fuck you in the ass.>”

Jake smiled. “Oh god, you got what I meant and you seem willing and able for it!” He moved in for a kiss but Dirk stopped him.

“<First, we need to do enemas.>”

Jake had never seen the ASL for enemas before but he could tell from the gesture to Dirk’s ass and the context what he meant. He stomped on the floor, a little petulantly.

“Oh fucking bother! I’ve done it a thousand times without one!”

“<Don’t tell me about those times.>”

“Are there any stores open selling enemas at this time?”

“<I have plenty stocked in my bathroom.>”

Jake signed. “Fine. I shall do a fucking enema, for you.”

And on that unromantic note, the two men took turns in the bathroom giving themselves an enema. When Dirk came out of the bathroom, Jake pulled him in for their first kiss. Though they had only been waiting for Roxy to leave, it felt like they had been waiting for this kiss for much longer, like their entire lifetimes.

“This will be some ring-dinger of a night, won’t it, my old chum?” Jake asked.

Dirk nodded, his orange eyes looking directly at Jake’s forest green eyes. The two titans retired to the bedroom for a night of festivities.                 

Chapter Text

Dirk’s bedroom walls were covered in erotic prints, but Jake was too busy sticking his tongue down Dirk’s throat to say something silly about that. The two were almost too busy making out to make it to the large canopy bed, but finally they stopped to take off their shoes. Jake tore off his gray suit and Dirk tore off his tennis shirt and khakis. It seemed to them they had worn too many clothes and wished they were already naked as if in a bathhouse. Finally, Jake was in his birthday suit and Dirk in that plus his baseball cap. Just as Dirk expected, Jake had a hairy grey chest. Just as Jake expect, Dirk had more freckles and blond pubes. They were both fully hard at this point, their fat uncircumcised cocks pointing slightly downward due to their mass, both cocks the same brownish color. Both of them stared at each other’s near identical crotches in awe for a moment, until Jake broke the silence.

“I see my john thomas is as big as yours!”

Dirk said, “I’ve never seen a cock as big as mine before.”

“I saw one this size once on a Chinese warlord who kidnapped me, but he wasn’t as nice a fellow as you.”

Dirk moved in to kiss Jake, rubbing their hard cocks together. They could feel their mutual heartbeats through their cocks, their foreskins sliding against each other. Their hairy chests rubbed against each other, all four nipples rock hard as pebbles. Jake pulled his mouth away to pant and gasp.

“We should get to the bed,” he said.

They rushed over to the bed. Jake won the unspoken race and got into position in all fours on the bed.

“Please be gentle,” he said, “It’s been awhile since this old dog rassled, what with my daughter and what-not.”

Dirk realized it had also been some time for him too since he had this opportunity. He was too paranoid to take many opportunities. That said, he decided to start out first by rimming Jake. He twisted his baseball cap backwards and divided into the grey furry bubble butt. As Jake made more wonderful noises, Dirk was glad he insisted on cleanliness. Jake’s cock under him twitched and shot off precum. When Dirk was finished rimming, he took some Vaseline out of the nightstand. He hadn’t been so optimistic that he’d put it in his sylladex. He warmed up the lubricant in his hands before gently inserting a finger in Jake’s ass. However, it seemed that sodomy was like riding a bike, since Jake readily took several fingers. Dirk lubed up his own cock, though it was already producing lots of precum. Finally, Dirk got behind Jake and pushed his monster cock in Jake’s willing hole. There was some discomfort at first for Jake but he soon relaxed. The stretch was immense but also so was the pleasure. Jake had the narcissistic thought that this was how it must feel to have sex with his ‘Teddy’ and he was pleased by that.

Dirk went at a steady pace, fucking Jake, his hands firmly grasped around the older man’s girthy midsection. Though Dirk was quiet during sex, Jake was as always noisy. Dirk was glad his apartment was basically soundproof. This man was being such a good bottom, moving in time with him, and clenching rhythmically. Dirk had wanted to fuck this ass ever since he saw his senator guest drop his pen and pick it up, or perhaps it was accidentally drop his pen. Still, Dirk also wanted to feel that massive cock in him. Sure, he knew it was an offensive stereotype that Negro men had above-average penises, a stereotype that got them lynched, but…he supposed his Texan puppet would be able to say what he was thinking right now, but not him. In any case, he’d have to pace himself if he didn’t want to blow like a Houston oil rig before it was his turn.

“It’s my turn, young whippersnapper,” Jake said with a grunt, as he was feeling a bit dangerously close.

Dirk pulled out of Jake and got down on all fours next to him. Jake sat up, got the Vaseline, and rubbed it on his ‘Teddy’. He slowly inserted himself into Dirk.

“My son, you take me easily,” he said, “You’ve been with many colored gentlemen?”

Dirk could curse himself for how well that worked on his libido. He was also thinking, like Jake did, that this is what it must be like to fuck himself. Then Jake started moving in Dirk’s body and Dirk never did answer his question or the many more that Jake asked about how he was doing. But Jake could tell that Dirk was enjoying himself immensely. Unlike Dirk, Jake gave Dirk a reacharound. It felt strange to Jake to handle a john thomas his size that was not attached to his body.

Eventually, Dirk managed to get out, “I want to see your face. I want to fuck you.”

Jake pulled out and laid down on the bed with his tree trunk legs up. Dirk got between his legs and penetrated him this way. It felt more intimate this way and in this moment Dirk felt like their souls were combining. Jake was simply enjoying how Dirk’s midsection was rubbing up against Jake’s also-large balls. There was so much Dirk wanted to say but he couldn’t. Instead he used his mouth to kiss Jake.

When Dirk stopped to breath air, Jake said, “Come on, young man, I’ve taken plenty spermatozoa, enough to get pregnant with quintuplets. You can give me more.”

With that said, Dirk finally came like a Houston oil rig. The tension of the evening, wondering if this senator was queer or really tied to his dead wife, wondering if Roxy would leave, wondering if Dirk was Jake’s type or if the winks meant nothing, all that was released. He pulled out of Jake’s gaping hole, proud he made it so gapping, and rolled to his side. Jake rolled on top of him.

“Now it’s my turn,” he said.

Dirk was boneless, so he allowed Jake to put his bone in him. After a few frantic thrusts, Jake came in Dirk. The older man enjoyed his orgasm as much as the younger man did. Though Dirk was too overstimulated to feel pleasure, he felt a sense of satisfaction feeling Jake’s voluminous cum inside him.

Having both come, the two men laid together side by side in the big bed. Jake finally turned his head to look at the erotic prints around him. He scoffed and took off his glasses.

“Good thing you didn’t bring Mrs. Laghmani into this bedroom,” he said, “This room isn’t fit for a decent married woman.”

Dirk took off his hat and toupee, revealing his bald head. “The only women coming in here are maids or personal assistants.”

“Oh, I hope you pay them well.”

After that, they were too exhausted for conversation. Yet they were not too exhausted to think. Dirk thought about how the sex he’d just had was the most magical sex he’d ever had. Nothing could top it, all other sex seemed sordid and disappointing compared to this. This was not sex but love making. It was like their bodies had been made for each other. Dirk often vacillated between being a believer and an atheist but tonight he was a believer. He did not believe this sex was a sin. It was a sacrament. This man, Senator Jake “Hass the Rock” Harley, was his soulmate. Dirk could feel the other half of his soul was lying next to him in bed. He was afraid to tell this man tonight, perhaps it would be laughable if he did, but he would tell him before they both died.

Meanwhile, Jake was thinking this was the best rassle he’d had. He wondered what movie he could see with Dirk tomorrow. Would it look too childish to ask to see “The Lady and the Tramp” with him? Jake really loved movies with dogs. Though that movie might have too much romance for him.

Eventually, they both fell asleep.     

Chapter Text

Dirk woke up before Jake. There never was a lover Dirk had that he didn’t wake up before them. He took the time to admire Hass the Rock. What a beautiful man, even if he did sleep with his mouth open, letting drool run down. Dirk had not noticed it earlier, but there was a tattoo of a strange cartoon face on Jake’s left arm that was in a similar style to the tattoo Dirk sported on his right arm. What kismet! Dirk would have to ask about that. They were truly soulmates.

A voice came in Dirk’s head, a voice Dirk had dubbed Brother Rodrigo, the Catholic monk Dirk would have become if his parents hadn’t left him and his brother orphans.

“What about Roxy? You really disappointed her by not making love to her. She came all this way to New York City to tell you about aliens and you didn’t show your appreciation for her. You let her sit there as a third wheel while you shamelessly flirted with this man. I am certain when she left she broke down in tears and contemplated suicide.”

Dirk responded in his head, “I thought you didn’t want me having sex at all.”

“If you had to fulfill your carnal urges last night, you should have done it with a woman. God made women for a purpose. You should have made love to her.”

“I don’t want to have sex with women. I’m not attracted to them.”

“You haven’t even tried. Maybe all this time you could have been heterosexual but you were too cowardly to try.”

“Okay, I’ll run to her hotel and make love to her then. My first time with a woman, under duress.”

“Make love to a married woman? Have you forgotten she is Mrs. Jawed Laghmani, wife of the esteemed Dr. Jawed Laghmani? You want to cuckold that great scientist? Have you forgotten adultery is a sin? One of the Ten Commandments?”

“I thought you wanted me to have sex with her?”

“That’s the point. Every decision you could have made is rotten because you are rotten. You have never made a good decision in your life. You are tainted by the sin of your parents’ self-murder.”

“If I do three Hail Marys will you leave me alone?”

“Possibly.”

So Dirk said three Hail Marys in his head and the monk disappeared. He then turned back to watching Jake sleep. He saw Jake mumble something about Alice. Alice, his dead wife. What was happening there?

Meanwhile, Jake dreamed of his first Chicago apartment with Alice there. She looked to be in her early 30s, like she was when she died, but she was dressed in 1955s fashion, in a full black skirt with a white design going down the front like a spiderweb, and a white blouse tailored with black pips to show what little bust she had. Her face showed she meant to talk serious business.

“First, Ford beating Chevrolet, so buy stocks in-”

Jake interrupted, “Alice! I rassled with Bro Strider and our john thomas are the same size, imagine that!”

She frowned. “Was that wise?”

“Oh, I could take his size with no problem, and so could he, the champ.”

“I don’t mean that. You a celebrity, you shouldn’t have sex with another celebrity. There be too much attention on you both.”

“Oh, come on, he will know the importance of being discreet and I think we have both cultivated such a manly image nobody will suspect us of faggotry.”

“I think Bro Strider is pretty fucking queer.”

“He’s also incredibly handsome and do you know I have not rassled with anyone since I was elected senator? You know how I celebrated my win as the first Negro to the Senate since Reconstruction? Self-abuse in the woods, like in my misspent youth!”

“You could have gone to one of your older partners. You didn’t need to find nobody new.”

“At least I didn’t skip off merrily to Lafayette Square to pick up strangers like someone we know in the Senate.”

“You do think of your half-brother often, don’t you? You say he don’t bother you but he do. And now you sleeping with a comedian…”

“Why didn’t the Batterwitch try to marry me? I would have turned her down, of course, I don’t want to marry that evil hag or any woman other than you, but why didn’t she ask?”

“Why didn’t you introduce us, like we agreed to?”

“Sorry for that again, my dear Alice.”

She sighed. “At this point, I don’t think even I want to sleep with her.”

“So, you see Bro Strider is a much better choice, much better than an alien who wants to take over the world.”

“I still think it will all end in tears. What if he catches feelings for you?”

“He’s a man! We don’t catch feelings like your lady loves always did.”

“Not all men be as heartless as you, you know.”

“Say, didn’t you have some business news for me?”

Alice perked up. “Oh, yes. Now, the thing to remember with Ford stock is oh damn your REM cycle-”

Jake woke up and the first thing he noticed was Dirk’s shiny head.

“You’re bald…” Jake said, “Well, balding.”

Dirk sighed. “I kept it from my brother but I can’t keep it from you.”

“And you’re talking?”

“For now. Don’t get too used to it. Tell me about your tattoo.”

Jake looked at his tattoo. “Sadly, there’s not much of a yarn to go with it. I got drunk and woke up with it.” He looked over at Dirk’s arm. “Say, you have a tattoo too! Seems to be by the same artist.”

“Yes, it came to me in a dream and I sketched it and gave it to a tattoo artist in Coney Island.”

“Huh, whatever clever chap did my tattoo was in Marseilles. How come they both look so similar?”

“Perhaps it is the Jungian collective consciousness.”

“Ah, yes, this Young fellow taught a lot of tattooist the trade.”

“Speaking of psychology, you were muttering Alice in your sleep.”

“I dream of Alice often. My brain has created a perfect ghost of her, now I’m not actually sure theologically it is her but it feels exactly like her and she knows things I couldn’t know.”

“Ah, a tulpa.”

“You could call it that. My Alice tulpa is very useful to me since she has impeccable business advice.” He sighed and looked off into the distant. “Not much use with child-raising, tho.”

“What does she say about me?”

Jake turned back to Dirk and excitedly said, “Hey! Did you know a certain someone we know very well in the Senate was caught soliciting sex from Negroes in Lafayette Square? I shan’t say his accursed name but he was in ‘Sassacre and Critter Take Manhattan’ and he wasn’t the Mexican in that.”

“Your half-brother Sam Crocker?”

Jake snapped his fingers angrily. “Blast it all to Hell, that family secret of ours is worse kept than the Manhattan Project! The only living soul that doesn’t know it is Harry Truman!”

“Truman doesn’t know Crocker is your half-brother?”

“Oh, I mean the poor vice president didn’t know about the bomb, I’m sure Harry knows about the family affair, he’s played Poker with Mayor Crocker. As for that sordid business, only Jade doesn’t know and please don’t tell her or she’ll expect gifts from her Uncle Sam and we don’t have space for a burning cross.”

“Does that make John Egbert your nephew?”

“I’d rather not think of that, thank you very much.”

Dirk leaned in. “So, the noble Senator Crocker was caught offended public morals?”

“Yes, I have heard from the two Negro men that were in Lafayette Square, two constituents, that he boldly asked them ‘have you ever spit roasted a celebrity?’ and they saw the white-haired white-mustached man himself! But then the police came and they ran away but he was arrested. Now, he was never charged with anything, but it was then Mrs. Jonathan Egbert came into his life and we know how that story went.”

“Very interesting. She must have gotten them to drop the charges.”

“I know something even more interesting about the Batterwitch. She is an alien and I don’t mean from Canada.”

Dirk’s orange eyes bugged out. “Aliens exist on Earth? You mean Roxy is right in her calculations?”

“Who? Oh, yes, her, the innocent white matron.”

“You keep calling her that when that’s not accurate.”

“Yes, the Laghmanis are right that our dimension has been broached by another dimension. I really should have told her that I know it happened.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“You see, the way I found out is awkward to talk about in mixed company…”

“You talked about a kathoey brothel in front of her.”

“This is even more awkward than that. You see, I had carnal knowledge of Senator Sam Crocker’s wife before they meet.”

“You seem both proud and ashamed to say that.”

“The mating did not work. You see, the opening of these aliens was designed by whatever gods they have to fit a john thomas that’s more like an octopus’ arm, if you catch my drift. Plus, she was as frigid as the Arctic in winter and I’ve been there.”

Dirk cringed. “Oh yes. Evolution would make these aliens different from humans.”

“The science fiction stories did not prepare me for that close encounter.”

“The Crockers are an odder pair than I already thought they are.”

“I do not think they are mating.”

“They aren’t as compatible in bed as us.”

“Few folks are, my new friend.”

Jake went in for a kiss but Dirk pressed his palm into Jake’s chest.

“I am not going to kiss before I have brushed my teeth. Brushed my teeth and showered.”

“Can I join you?”

“Yes you may, but I will be in there awhile.”

And so the two went to the bathroom, which had even weirder art than the living room or the bathroom, with various scatological prints from the 18th century. They showered together and while they knew penetration was a bad idea, they did enjoy some mutual masturbation. Afterward, Jake dressed in a fresh tan suit, the invention of the sylladex having removed that shame from the Walk of Shame. Dirk took more time with his hygiene, so Jake went wandering around the apartment.

“What does this door lead to?” he asked out loud.

However, he did not wait until the answer. He opened the door and there before him was not more art plastered on the walls, since the wall were bare white, but a guillotine that reached up to the high ceiling. Jake just stared at it while Dirk rushed to go explain to his guest why he had it.

“Let me explain it to you,” Dirk said, with shaving cream still on him.

“No, I understand,” said Jake cheerfully, “You like to pretend to be the Scarlet Pimpernel!”

Dirk captchalogued a speech in his head to ask, “The Scarlet Pimpernel?”

Jake turned to Dirk. “Oh you know the Scarlet Pimpernel! Sir Percy Blakeney! At first he’s a foppish dandy, but secretly he’s a brave swordsman who rescues the ladies and gentleman of the French aristocracy from Madam Guillotine, you know, first published in 1905 by Baroness Orczy, played by Leslie Howard on screen, ‘They seek him here, they seek him there, those Frenchies seek him everywhere, is he in heaven, or is he in Hell? That damned elusive Pimpernel!’ He’s the first superhero!” Jake looked at Dirk’s face which showed no recognition throughout this explanation. “Oh, why don’t you know the classics?”

“I’m not into that genre,” Dirk admitted.

“So why do you have a guillotine?”

“I just like the engineering. Now, let me tell you how it works at this shorter than standard height…”

After that explanation, Dirk went back to the bathroom to rinse off his face. Afterward, he went to the front door and got the New York Times from his doorstep. He sat down on the sofa, put the newspaper on the coffee table, and looked through the listings.

“I know just the movie of the summer we should see,” Dirk said.

“Ah yes, I know what movie that is,” said Jake.

“The Seven Year Itch.”

“Oh, that. Yes, that’s a movie for mature adults like us, not a silly children filk like The Lady and the Tramp.”

“There’s a four o’clock showing at the theater around the corner from my place. We could meet up then after we do our separate business for the day.”

“Yes, there’s folks I planned to meet here.”

“Sorry I can’t have breakfast with you. My girl Hope is coming in fifteen minutes.”

Jake raised an eyebrow. “Your girl?”

“Not like that. My personal assistant, John’s replacement. Though I was thinking, we should have let Roxy join in our activities last night.”

“Roxy? So you are interested in ladies?”

“No, I have not matured to that point, but I feel guilty as a host that I rushed her away.”

“But she’s a married white woman!”

“Do you care that much for the bonds of marriage?”

Jake looked down at his feet. “Well, marriage is negotiable…” He looked back up with certainty and shook his fist. “But I vowed on my mother’s grave that I would never sleep with a white woman!”

“Didn’t you say you slept with Betty Crocker?”

Jake said with much exasperation, “Didn’t you hear me when I told you she’s an alien?”

“An alien who looks like a blond white woman.”

“She was a gray-skinned black-haired alien with orange horns when I had the misfortune to sleep with her! That’s not a very Aryan look!”

“I still thinks she counts as a white woman.”

“I don’t! I did not break a vow to my mother!”

“Look, whatever the Batterwitch is, Roxy is Egyptian…she said she wasn’t white.”

Jake thought about it for a moment and shook his head. “Anyway, she’s probably caught her plane home by now.”

Dirk sighed. “Yes, she probably has.”

“At least she got to see your john thomas. That’s worth a flight to the States.”

Dirk got up off the sofa and went over and finally gave Jake his good morning kiss. Both of them wished they could just stay like that, kissing the day away. However, Dirk pulled away. He got a piece of paper from the coffee table and wrote and drew the address of the movie theater.

“I’ll see you at 3:45,” he said.

“Not if I see you first,” Jake said with a wink.

And so they made plans to see “The Seven Year Itch”.      

Chapter Text

Jake arrived at the theater at 4:05 pm, as Dirk communicated through angry American sign language.

“But I arrived,” he said, “I suppose you ended up seeing me first, my friend!”

Dirk shrugged and they entered the movie theater, Dirk having already bought two tickets for them. So they saw the movie The Seven Year Itch. It was about a man named Mr. Sherman who stays in New York City in the summer while his wife and kid go upstate and he meets a beautiful young woman subletting the apartment upstairs, played by Marilyn Monroe in her famous white dress. The movie went about the same as it did in our world, except with several sylladex gags.

Afterward, Jake left the theater with a skip in his step, whereas Dirk was downcast.

“I thought that was a real laugh riot of a movie, don’t you think?” Jake asked Dirk.

Dirk signed, “< That movie was a real disappointment. It was completely butchered.>” He signed ‘butchered’ as violently as if he were swinging a katana.

“Well, the Indian part at the beginning was inaccurate, what with the Plain Indian tipis and clothes, but I wouldn’t say butchered.”

“< That’s not the problem. But let’s go eat. >”

They waited until they were at the Italian restaurant nearby to discuss things further, since signing and walking the busy New York City streets didn’t mix.

“Do you drink wine?” Jake asked.

Dirk signed. “< Only Communion wine. I never drink alcohol. It would make me lose control.>”

“Yes, I am a lightweight myself, getting horridly drunk despite my size, it must be the Indian in me. However, it does not stop the function of a certain organ, only slows it down. Leading to certain unsavory situations.” He looked off to the side uneasily in memory.

“< What type of situations? >”

“Unsavory ones. Luckily, at my age I can just claim alcohol is bad for my stomach instead of watering the plant with it. Huh, just like our friend Mr. Sherman in the movie!”

“< You enjoyed the movie.>”

“Yes, why didn’t you?”

“< I saw the original play on Broadway and it dealt frankly with adultery, but in this one there is no actual cheating. >”

“Indeed and that’s all for the better. Now it ends on a happy note as Mr. Sherman managed to avoid committing adultery like a man should. It’s now good clean fun for everyone, not some dour long-haired play about the foibles of mankind.”

“< Why must art be clean? Great men are committing adultery, why not everyman characters commit it too? >”

“Maybe I don’t want my daughter to see stories like that?”

“< Your daughter is in her twenties. She can learn that men cheat. >”

“Look, it’s funnier if he fails to cheat, if he’s all hot and bothered about an affair he never had!”

“< I don’t like that the character of That Girl goes from knowingly seducing the protagonist to being completely oblivious to her appeal. >”

“Well, I have found that acting totally oblivious does tend to dissuade women, who don’t want to make the first move.”

“< Are you attracted to M-a-r-i-l-y-n M-o-n-r-o-e? >”

“No, the girl doesn’t interest me in the slightest.”

“< You are attracted to women? >”

Jake looked around as if there was someone else in the restaurant who knew ASL before answering.

“I was attracted to my wife, and many other women besides that. I’m just not attracted to white women, never have been, never will be, that’s just the way I am.”

Dirk looked up over his shades at Jake and gave him a withering look before signing, “< You don’t have to pretend that much not to be a threat to white maidenhood. I will not arrest you for breaking the M-a-n-n Act.>”

Jake signed, “< Are you attracted to her? >”

“< I would be if I was attracted to women. Anyone attracted to women would be attracted to her. She’s H-e-l-e-n of T-r-o-y.” >”

Jake retorted, “I think Anna May Wong is more beautiful than Marilyn Monroe.”

“< In M-a-r-y-l-a-n-d you’d be arrested for that. >”

“Lock me up then!”

The waitress then came by and took their orders. She of course was very taken with Jake though she knew her father, the owner of the restaurant, would call in some men who made concrete shoes if Jake tried anything. But if it weren’t for that… As for Dirk, she already went on a date with him once and he was incredibly off-putting and now they pretended to not know each other.  

“< So you really loved that stupid movie over its merits and not its star power. >”

“Look, I don’t think a comedy should have actual adultery in it.”

“< Did you ever cheat on your wife? >”

“Only once, in that case with you-know-who.”

Dirk snorted. “< I can’t believe that. All great men cheat on their wives. A man of your sexual charisma only sleeping with one other person? >”

Jake played with his fork. “Well…” He signed. “< I slept with other people, it’s just That Woman was the only woman I did not bring home to my wife for a…t-h-r-e-e-s-o-m-e. I was free to sleep with any man I wanted. >”

“< You had an open marriage. >”

“Yes, you could say so.”

“< But you think Mr. Sherman should stay with one woman? >”

“Well, of course, that’s how it goes in movies. That’s how it goes in all the movies in all the cinemas. Why were you gosh-darn surprised this one ended like all the other Hollywood movies?”

“< I still have a right to complain. It is a free country. >”

“It’s a free country but I also have the right to complain you’re being a silly-billy. The Hays Office is here to stay, better deal with it, son.”

“< This is why I prefer radio. >”

There was a moment without speaking or signing, when Dirk broke the silence with his hands.

“< If I had a lover, I would not want him to sleep with anyone else. >”

“But you said all great men cheat.”

Dirk signed with determination. “< I still don’t want him to sleep with anyone else. >”

The conversation turned towards other things as the meal went on. They were almost done eating when Dirk signed this.

“< My brother is very good at cooking Italian food. He never learned it when we were living out of hotels, but he became a great cook as an adult. Only a so-so fighter, but a great cook. >”

“Jade makes a delicious steak but sadly she can’t be let near a stove currently, poor girl.”

“< How long has it been since you saw her? >”

“I send her a bushel-full of letter all the time with hugs and kisses but I haven’t seen her since I dropped her off in ‘51.”

“< You haven’t visited her in the hospital in all these years? >”

“If she were anywhere but a hospital in Canada I’d see my little pumpkin all the time, but alas she’s there. You don’t think those psychiatrists there are as perverted as the one in the movie, giving suggestions on criminal assault, do you?”

“< I think that was exaggerated for effect. >”

“Ah, yes, so Jade is perfectly fine and safe and snug as a bug and she has all my hugs and kisses. Anyway, when did you last see your brother?”

“< I have not seen him in person since J-o-h-n’s ceremony in 1952. >”

“Ahh…”

“< …But we exchanged letters and he is an adult who is doing perfectly fine. >”

“I understand.”

“< He would not keep from me if he was doing poorly. I have never spared the rod whenever he came to me with information he had withheld from me. He has been trained well. >”

“Ah, yes, I have never gone for that corporal punishment with Jade. I could never lay a finger on my pumpkin. If she has a problem, I just use my good ol’ Harley charm to convince her she doesn’t have a problem, and then it’s solved! Just like when I convinced her that her lack of monthly curses was actually a blessing. Problem solved.” He looked down darkly. “Shame I was unsuccessful with the sleeping spells.”

“< We have very different parenting styles. >”

“That we do, my friend.”

“< I raised my brother myself despite the law wanting to put us in an orphanage because I knew he was destined to do something great. >”

“Major Dave Strider will be great one day, perhaps a four-star general!”

“< He is great already. He brought J-o-h-n to me. That boy will be my heir. >”

“Oh, okay, yes, John Egbert is a special boy.”

Dirk looked darkly and drank some water before signing. “< I have done horrible things to keep my brother from going to an orphanage. Horrible. >” He signed that last sign emphatically.

“Ah, yes, raising children is tough. But now Dave can cooking spaghetti for himself! So it all worked out in the end.”

As for the end of Jake and Dirk’s meal, the bill came and they fought over who would get to pay before deciding to go dutch. After that, they took a taxi to a dark smoky jazz club in Greenwich Village, where the latest music was being performed. Instead of alcohol, they drunk coffee. Instead of sign language, Dirk took out a notepad and wrote down a paragraph.

This is the new movement in Jazz called Modal Jazz. It is more horizontal than the chord-change-heavy bebop you might be used to in Chicago. Every year jazz keeps improving, with artists taking more and more risks. Jazz is always better live since it lives and breathes with improvisation. You can’t get this kind of sound from a record. I feel sorry for people who don’t live in New York City and can’t enjoy what these Negro musicians are doing to the art form, since jazz is truly America’s greatest art form after ventriloquy. What do you think?

Jake wrote down his bit.

I hate this blasted noise.

Dirk looked at that bit and despaired. He wrote more.

What music do you like?

I love the soundtrack to “The King and I”. The song about whistling is my favorite.

Dirk again despaired. He had the first Negro senator since Reconstruction with him and his favorite music was Rodgers and Hammerstein? What a square! Where was his hip sophistication?

Still, despite this, Dirk ended up together in Jake’s forgotten hotel suite, sticking his tongue down Jake’s throat as they sat together on his rented couch. Anal was too complicated to try again so instead they jerked each other off. Dirk had the strength to speak, so he asked Jake a question.

“I get turned on sometimes seeing my own massive cock, do you?”

Jake gasped and said, “You are an odd fellow to be thinking that, and I would be an even odder fellow if I thought that considering the vicious stereotypes out there about men like me, but anyway the answer is yes.”

They both came at the same time together, their second time that day. After they cleaned up, they made their plans for the weekend. Though Jake would be busy tomorrow evening attending an event at the New York City Prince Hall Masonic Temple, and on Sunday morning he’d be attending a Christian Science church reading, earlier that Saturday they could go to the American Museum of Natural History and on Sunday evening they could dine together again. They shared a kiss goodbye, and then Dirk went back to his apartment.

He laid down on his bed, surrounded by prints showing Edo Era merchants with enormous erections fucking prostitutes, and allowed himself to sigh happily. Jake was perfect for him. Any memory that pointed elsewhere was replaced with the memory of Jake’s mustache kisses and firm grip on Dirk’s cock. Dirk was so in love and it looked like it was going to be a fun weekend.   

Chapter Text

Over the week, Jake and Dirk spent a lot of time together, visiting different locations and talking to each other on various matters, both important and trivial.

On Saturday, they visited the American Museum of Natural History, located in Theodore Roosevelt Park. This museum had a variety of exhibits, but what interested Jake the most was the taxidermy animals.

“Some folks say I hunt too much, but try doing taxidermy on a living animal,” Jake said as he started his story, “I developed the taste for taxidermy bug when my ma died and the mayor funded her funeral, which was an extravagant affair and only when I got older did I realize why but this story isn’t about that. It’s about my ma! She never looked as good as she did the day of that ceremony, my poor ma. I only cried once I found out they were going to bury her! What a waste! And then when I started work in the saloon, I discovered that establishment had a taxidermized Grizzly Bear! Why couldn’t we have done that with Ma? Or my dog that the white kids murdered? Damn shame.”

They did also see exhibits showing so-called primitive people, along with the animals.

Dirk began to speak. “According to the late anthropologist Franz Boaz, race is not a matter of innate biological traits but instead a matter of cultural differences, do you agree?”

Jake stopped looking at the Inuit diorama to turn to Dirk. “Yes, I agree. We are all more the same than different, that’s my take on it and what my constituents believe.”

“So to determine which race someone is, it is not a matter of biology but what culture they belong to.”

“I suppose…”

“Our friend Mrs. Betty Crocker could be called to have the Southern Belle Viking from Canada aesthetic going on, could she not?”

“Where are you going with this sort of line of talk, my good friend?”

Dirk switched to sign. “<B-e-t-t-y is a white woman.>”

“She is not!” Jake switched to sign. “<She is not a white woman.>”

“<She is a white woman culturally. You must agree.>”

“<I do not agree to anything. An alien cannot be a white woman. She is just pretending to be a white woman.>”

“<All race is fake.>”

“<No, the races all have different colors and sizes and shapes you can’t ignore. A gray alien is not a white woman.>”

“<You agreed with me earlier.>”

“<You tricked me. She is not a white woman.>”

“<She is a white woman.>”

“< I don’t even think she counts as a woman. >”

“< What do you mean? >”

“< Her species all provides g-a-m-e-t-e-s to the M-o-t-h-e-r G-r-u-b. They all have the same sex. They are all male. >”

“< You put your penis in her vagina. >”

Jake felt uncomfortable seeing Dirk sign that. “< It is not just that which makes a man. My wife was half man in spirit. >”

“< I doubt that. Your wife was fully female. She gave birth to your daughter. >”

“Well,” said Jake, abandoning sign language, “I was going to tell you all about the Eskimo lady who was my wife for the night, but I shan’t if you keep on pulling this shamefully-tattered thread.”

“<I’ll drop it. Go on.>”

“Okay, there I was in Alaska…”

And so Jake Harley told that wild and naughty story.

At the end, Dirk asked, “< If that woman turned out also to be an alien in disguise, could you still claim you had sex with an Eskimo?>”

“What? No! Don’t ask me that. Besides, the disguise technology doesn’t work during intimate times.”

“< What happens? >”

“I was told I didn’t want to know and I feel Betty wasn’t lying for once.”

Dirk shivered imagining it.     

After the trip to the museum, Jake spent his Saturday evening with the Freemasons, like planned. Despite what some might think concerning this organization, nothing important to the plot happened. On Sunday, he went to the First Church of Christ, Scientist, a sumptuous building that combined English baroque and French Beau Arts. The congregation greatly appreciated the visit from Senator Jake “Hass the Rock” Harley, seeing him as an icon of Christian Science. After a nap in his hotel room, he went to Dirk’s apartment around five PM. They then enjoyed a spread of Chinese-American takeout on this holy day.

“Not as delicious as the grub they have in China,” Jake said, “But I still could gobble this all day. So, how did you spend this morning?”

“I attended Mass at St. Patrick Cathedral.”

“Ah, you’re still a good Catholic?”

“While I do find some comfort still in religion, I have realized that if I regularly attended Mass people don’t ask why I am not sleeping with women.”

“But plenty of Catholic men chase women like dogs chase cars, you know? The Mafia is full of them.”

Dirk sighed. “Yes, I know it does not entirely stop talk, but it does minimize it to a reasonable amount.”

“Now, Mary Baker Eddy’s church is the one for me, a thinker’s religion. I converted to it in 1935, not long after my wife’s death by that butcher surgeon who was probably left over from the assassination of President Garfield and President McKinley. I learned from Mary Baker Eddy what I already suspected, that our reality nothing but a highfalutin illusion. Life already seemed unreal, what with me being born on the exact same day as my half-brother, what the odd of that nonsense ever happening? And how was I spared the Spanish Flu when I was an underage private in the US Army? It was because I had the attitude I was not going to die coughing up my lungs in Kansas, that’s why!”

“I do not share your particular beliefs, but I have suspected the Buddha was right that reality is an illusion.”

“You see! Everyone agrees it’s all fakey-fake, might as well put on your best attitude and hope for the best.”

“Yet how does that square with putting your daughter in a hospital?”

Jake sighed. “I did take the girl to a practitioner but she didn’t let enough time pass before she complained she needed a ‘real’ doctor to take care of her. That girl does not have the faith that I have, it’s quite disappointing to me. I thought I raised her better.”

“It sounds like you’re punishing her.”

Jake cheered up. “Punishing her? No, she loves being in that hospital. She made a new friend, this Miss Rose Lalonde! She always talks about how she needs more friends and now she has one! So everything is fine now. Canada is a lovely country, our friends to the north are so polite.”

As dinner winding down, they got on the topic of hypnotism.

“So, I heard you also do hypnotism along with ventriloquism,” Jake said.

“Yes, I am a skilled hypnotist. I don’t use it in my act often, just with private session.”

Jake leaned in. “My, very interesting.”

“For instance, I convinced Majority Leader Johnson to let me hypnotize him…” Dirk gave a rare smile. “You might find his latter actions have a trace of Bro in them.”

Jake looked perturbed. “You don’t mean to say you convinced Landslide Bull Johnson to do something he normally wouldn’t do?”

Dirk responded as serious as the grave, “I did not hypnotize him to do anything sexual with me or anyone else. I would never use hypnosis that way.”

“Oh, I was thinking of assassination, not bedroom matters!”

“Not that either,” Dirk added, more relaxed now, “Just changed his views on civil rights.”

“Could someone be hypnotized into assassinating a politician?”

“I highly doubt it but I will not try, I promise you that.”

“So, you won’t hypnotize someone to do something…sexual, right?”

“Not unless they ask me specifically to do it.”

“Folks have asked you to? Specifically handsome rugged men who might want to know what all the fuss is about with hypnotism?”

“You want me to hypnotize you?”

“If you are offering, I will, my gracious host.”

After the take out container were swept away to the trash can, Jake and Dirk sat in the living room, with Jake on the couch across from Dirk.

“Now,” Dirk said, “I hope by hypnotizing you I can find out your deepest, darkest fanta-”

Jake almost stood up. “Scarlet Pimpernel with you as a French aristocrat I must save from the guillotine!”

Dirk chuckled meanly. “That’s not your deepest, darkest fantasy.”

Jake gulped loudly.

“So…listen to the sound of my voice…listen only to the sound of my voice…”

So, Jake was slowly put under hypnosis as he listened to Dirk’s voice. He then told Dirk his deepest darkest fantasy. After that, Dirk snapped him out of his trance.

“Huh?” asked Jake, “What happened? What in God’s name did I say?”

Dirk answered, “You’ll find out Tuesday evening, when I arrange for your fantasy to come true.”

“Now I’m dying like that blasted cat of curiosity! Though I never did like cats, the tricky lying beasts, the Gypsies have them dead to rights.”

“I actually like cats.”

“But you don’t have a cat.”

“I don’t want a litterbox around the apartment.”

“Wise move, my friend.”

Dirk joined Jake on the couch and soon the two of them ended making out, which lead them to the bedroom. They tried to do 69. Dirk really wanted to suck Jake’s cock but Jake was never much of a cocksucker and went soft. They gave up on oral and just jerked each other off instead. After that, Jake returned to his hotel.

On Monday, Dirk had work to do so Jake did some sight-seeing of his own, but they met that evening again at Dirk’s apartment. They had pizza delivered and while Jake did enjoy it he still said that Chicago Deep Dish was better. After dinner, they watched the news on the television, and there was an interview with Senator Sam Crocker.

Crocker: Senator Harley talks of our military but even though he was in the Army, illegally as it were since he falsely represented himself even there, he did not see combat. He was merely an underaged barber in Gay Paris.

Jake stood up. “Oh come on, I saved an officer from an assassin’s bullet!”

Reporter: What of your own military experience?

Crocker: As the lovable Colonel Sassacre, I served my country in her time of need and proved myself valiant on the blood-soaked fields of Virginia.

Jake yelled again, “You played a Confederate soldier in the movies! That’s not military experience!”

Reporter: What do you think of the situation in Finland?

“No follow-up questions?” Jake sat back down angrily. “The state of journalism. If only I could have a duel with Senator Crocker.”

Dirk spoke, “I could reveal that Senator Crocker was arrested in Lafayette Park.”

Jake looked over at Dirk with horror in his eyes. “No, you cannot reveal that! You can never reveal that! You’d better sew up your gob before you say that!”

Dirk signed, “< Why not? We both hate him. >”

“Yes, but he is in the same party as me, not to mention the same legislative body. We are figurative brothers…as well as literal brothers.”

“ <You wouldn’t be saying it. Lil Cal will be saying it and libel laws don’t apply to puppets.>”

“But who told Lil Cal? Not a little birdie, it was me who told him. I know this will come back to bite me in the bottom somehow.”

“< So it’s about your political career. >”

“Look, I am no coward, anyone will tell you that I will jump into any battle, but I’m in a very precarious position as the only Negro in the Senate and as a man who enjoys the company of other men on occasion.”

“< You don’t want people to know you’re gay. >”

“Yes, it’s true I did get to enjoy what Colonel Sassacre didn’t that night but I am only a half-homosexual, or some smaller percentage than fifty.”

“< So I can’t even hint at it? >”

“No you can’t! Why do you even want to tell that filthy anecdote? I only told you so we could both have a jolly good time clowning on our shared nemesis! It was only male-bonding.”

“< I can’t ignore this. I am a journalist. >”

“You are a ventriloquist!”

“< Same difference. >”

“It won’t do my party any good if voters think we’re going around soliciting sex in national parks, that’s not respectable manly behavior.”

“< I’m with the other party. >”

Jake crossed his arms angrily and sarcastically said, “Jolly good for you, mate.”

“< Why are you with that party? >”

“If it was good enough for Frederick Douglass, it’s good enough for me.”

“< He died before you were born. Why are you still with that party? >”

“Well, the other party is the party of the Klu Klux Klan! Why are you with them?”

“< The parties are shifting>” Dirk signed ‘shifting’ with extra emphasis. “<F-D-R had his Black Cabinet and True-Man de-segregated the military. >”

“But FDR didn’t appoint any Negro secretaries or under-secretaries and I don’t like his policies on gold or all the mucking he did in the economy, and while de-segregating the military is well and fine I think folks can go too hard on desegregation.”

“< What do you mean? >” Dirk asked with angry eyebrows.

“Well, businesses shouldn’t be pushed too far and it’s not very fair to profitable Negro-only businesses.”

“< What about the Negroes who hate living under Jim Crow? >”

“They can just move out, that’s what I did when I was fifteen and now I’m the richest Negro in the United States, so dreams do come true.”

“< The entire Negro population of the South can’t just move. >”

“Then as they say, they’ll just have to Deal With It. Frankly, have you ever had to spend much time with Negroes in the Dixieland South? I hate to say this but they are a most dreadfully embarrassing collection of bamas, have you seen their ill-kempt hair?”

“Ugh,” said Dirk out loud in disgust at this racism.

“Yes, I know,” said Jake obliviously, “They really could use a jolt to get them tugging on their bootstraps! That’s the way capitalism works. If everyone wins the Game, then nobody wins the Game.”

Dirk was going to lecture Jake, but suddenly Jake noticed what was on television now that the news was over.

“Hey, they’re playing Gunga Din on the television!” he cried happily.

They then both got sucked into watching the movie about a cult of Kali worshipers as Jake talked about his time in India. Dirk forgot about Jake’s internalized racism.

Afterward, Dirk sucked Jake off as Jake talked about how good his son was at sucking off Daddy. The dirty talk made Dirk almost feel like coming untouched. He definitely forgot the “bama” talk then.

Jake returned to his hotel room after that, but the next day they met up again and visited the Statue of Liberty. Neither of them had ever visited it, neither the tourist nor the resident.

So Jake Harley stood before the one hundred fifty one foot tall beautiful blue-green lady in flowing robes in awe. He was glad that now that he was in his fifties, he did not get any erection he did not want. If he had been a young man, his pants would be standing up in patriotic appreciation of this hallowed sight. He remembered he did have an embarrassing time once seeing the Tattooed Lady at a carnival sideshow. Actually, he had more embarrassing times than that. He did not have an erection that was easy to hide. People said Colonel Sassacre could raise a Big Tent but that was nothing compared to Hass the Rock.

Jake was distracted from this when Dirk spoke.

“I don’t trust them.”

Jake turned to look at Dirk. “Statues?”

“< J-e-w-s. >”

Now it was Jake’s turn to be horrified. “Not very liberal of you.”

“< I don’t care.>”

“What about John Egbert? He’s mostly a fine chap other than jilting my daughter and you trust him to the moon and back.”

“< He barely counts as one. >”

“There’s also June, I mean you wouldn’t know June Greenberg, the Beerwitch, she employed me when I was a teenager and nobody else would and she was the best woman in that god-forsaken town.”

“< Plenty of nice individual J-e-w-s but as a collective group you can’t trust them. It’s their culture. >”

“Look, see here, what if someone said all this ‘I don’t trust them’ horsefeathers about Italians? You’d set that anti-Italian fellow right, wouldn’t you?”

“< I don’t trust W-o-p-s either. It is also in their culture to only take care of each other and lie to outsiders. >”

“Really?”

“< The things an average w-o-p will do for a man who claims to be a powerful gangster. >”

Dirk then did a thousand yard stare behind his glasses while Jake tried to ask him what an Italian American man would do for a powerful gangster.

“Anyway…” Dirk signed. “< I do not trust J-e-w-s or I-t-a-l-i-a-n-s. >”

“That is disappointing to hear from you, so to speak.”

“< You shouldn’t be disappointed. The J-e-w-s were the ones who brought the slaves to the United States. >”

“Well, I wouldn’t have been born without that so it all worked out in the end, I suppose.”

“< They want to take over the world. >”

“Actually… <The aliens want to take over the world. We should fear them. >”

“< That is troubling. >”

Jake was glad they were off the Jewish question. “< I heard some of them can read mind. >”

“< Troubling. >”

“< They can also command people to do things. >”

Dirk looked thoughtful. “< That could be helpful. They could command a pedophile not to touch children. >”

Jake was thinking of an alien reading his mind to find out his fantasies about the Statue of Liberty, but he said, “That would be jolly well useful.”

“< Are these aliens already controlling humans? >”

Jake looked up at August sky. “I do not know, my friend, I do not know.”   

When their trip to the Statue of Liberty was over, they returned to Dirk’s apartment. Dirk actually made dinner for once, some simple spaghetti with marinara sauce. Afterward, they sat together on the couch.

“Now,” said Dirk, “Remember the deepest darkest fantasy?”

“No, I’m afraid I do not, you hypnotized that out of me with that lovely voice of yours,” said Jake.

“Well, I will show you what it was as I fulfill it. All you have to do is listen to the sound of my voice…”

Chapter Text

I must have been eleven or twelve, I can ’t remember, but it was after the Mayor’s wife threatened me. I saw a young white girl my age was sitting by herself under a tree. She had with her this doll in such a pretty blue dress, a prettier dress than what she was wearing, and she unbuttoned her own gingham dress and she’d gotten her breasts early, she was really developed. She pressed her doll next to her breasts, like she was breastfeeding. In that moment I thought to myself that I want to be that doll. I immediately felt such a mighty shame I tanned my own hide with a switch, I knew my grandma would be too weak to do it on my own. I think I’ve forgotten about it but right now I want to be that doll in the pretty blue dress, a bright blue dress with white lace ruffles. 

Dirk knew when Jake was hypnotized. He had hypnotized many people before and had already hypnotized Jake. Jake wasn’t even hard to put into a trance. Quite easy, in fact. A scary thing to think about considering Jake’s enemies, not to mention the enemies of the United States, but luckily Jake was in the hands of a hypnotist who only wanted to do weird sex stuff with him.

“Stand up,” Dirk said.

Jake stood up.

“Follow me to the bedroom.”

Jake followed Dirk to the bedroom like a zombie. Dirk closed the door behind them.

“Undress.”

Jake undressed and even though Dirk had seen his naked body before, there was a thrill in seeing it again under these circumstances. Dirk then uncaptchalogued an outfit for Jake.

“Now, I will put this outfit on you.”

Dirk took the white knickers with a blue ribbon and had Jake step into them. Next, he put a white lacy camisole which also featured a blue ribbon on Jake’s bear chest. Next were a pair of white ankle socks lined with white lace. Next came a beautiful baby blue dress, like a doll might have worn in the 1910s, and it fit Jake perfectly though it looked like it was designed for a girl child. Finally, Dirk put on Jake’s proud salt-and-pepper hair a brown yarn wig with two ponytails. Jake looked silly, but there was still a certain dignity to him.

“You’re my beautiful doll,” Dirk said, “My beautiful baby doll.”

Dirk kissed Jake, and Jake responded well despite his zombification.

“Now, close your eyes.”

Jake closed them. Dirk undressed from his normal men’s clothes and unusual shades and got into the gingham outfit of a 1910s girl. However, he had a better wig, made of actually blonde hair, plus some artificial breasts.

“Open your eyes.”

Jake opened them and witnessed Dirk’s transformation.

“How do I look?” Dirk asked, “Do not answer. You are a dolly and cannot speak.” He plucked the eyeglasses off of Jake’s face. “You also do not wear eyeglasses. Dollies do not wear eyeglasses. Dollies lie on the bed.”

Jake walked over to the bed and laid down on it. Dirk walked to the side of the bed and opened the curtain to stare at Dolly Jake with big orange eyes.

Dirk spoke in a wonderful little girl voice, “My own dolly! An early Christmas present! I will name you Lara L-a-r-a and you’ll be my best friend and my little child!”

Dirk stroked Lara’s yarn hair lovingly. “You’re such a pretty dolly. You’re as pretty as me! I wish I had a dress that pretty. I think blue is the best color for girls, don’t you think?”

Lara felt so proud that she was a beloved dolly. She did not have to do anything but lie there and be pretty. This was a dream come true and her heart was swelling with happiness. Her owner’s breasts were pressing against her head as her owner’s hands swept down to rub her chest.

“All the other girls will be jealous I have such a pretty dolly. They’ll want one too.”

Lara felt other parts of her swell. Her knickers had a slit where her erection came out and she felt embarrassed but could not move to cover herself. Her owner noticed what was happening and flipped up the dress to reveal the erection. Her owner firmly grasped the quarter-hard penis.

“Oh!” exclaimed her owner, “My dolly came with a big peepee! What a surprise! My papa was so good to buy this for me!”

Lara felt safe and comfortable now. Her owner stroked her peepee, causing it to become big and strong.

“I think my dolly wants a drink,” her owner said.

She unbuttoned her dress, revealing her rubber breasts. She pressed her left nipple into Lara’s mouth.

“Come on, dolly, suck on your mommy.”

Lara started sucking and even in her state she was surprised that milk came out. Still, it was the best tasting milk she had ever drank. Her owner started moaning like her actual nipple was being sucked.

“Oh Lara, oh god, best dolly.”

Meanwhile, her owner continued to stroke Lara’s peepee. Lara remained quiet, since she was a dolly, but inside she was having the time of her life. Her erection got as hard as diamonds. Even when the milk ran dry from both nipples, Lara continued to suck on her owner’s breasts.

Her owner pulled away and started jerking herself off. She would say she was surprised at how much this bizarre scenario was turning her on, but perhaps this was always her fantasy.

“You’re the best dolly, the best,” she said.

After that breather, she looked at Lara’s erection. It looked very ridiculous, the heavy brown object coming out of the white lacy cotton meant for little girls, but also so tempting. She wanted it in her mouth.

“Now let Mommy have a drink.”

She then leaned over Lara and started sucking her Dolly’s erection furiously while stroking herself. Lara remanded a quiet, unmoving dolly, but her cock was twitching and spewing precum, reacting like the dolly couldn’t. Her owner moaned around Lara’s cock as she came into her hand. Soon afterward, Lara came and while Jake normally wasn’t that into blowjobs, as Lara it felt like her soul was ascending into Heaven. She provided her owner with so much milk.

The scene over, her owner got undressed and then undressed her dolly. Now they were two men, two grown men, lying naked in bed.

“When I snap my fingers, you will come back to yourself and not be a dolly anymore. One, two, three!” Dirk snapped his fingers.

Jake woke up and shook his head.

“Wow, that was one humdinger of an encounter!” he cried out happily.

“Thank you,” said Dirk.

“Where did you get all that equipment on such short-notice?”

“It was mostly stuff I already had that I modified.”

“Why did you already have two man-sized Edwardian girls outfits and lactating breasts on hand?”

“I’m an entertainer. Let’s leave it at that.”     

Chapter Text

Dirk lay in his canopy bed with Senator Jake “Hass the Rock” Harley, his new love, enjoying the afterglow. He thought back to his time in the Great Depression vaudeville circuit where he met a ventriloquist pair named Sid and Larry. Those two men, not his dead parents, were his model of what married love should be. They were terrible ventriloquist, though. If he could get married, he would marry Jake. Sure, he still considered homosexuality a sin, but in his tormented mind everything was a sin. He could at least enjoy his sin with Jake. Right now, he had the spoons to talk, though he wouldn’t have recognize that metaphor anymore than J. K. Rowlings does now. He’d need to use puppets to talk, but he could still talk.

“Hass the Rock,” Dirk asked, “Why didn’t you ever remarry?”

Jake said, “Oh, I’ve told that tale before and many a time before that: I don’t want my precious Jade to have an evil wicked stepmother.”

Lil Cal, who had come out only a precious few unseen times during this affair, came out now and spoke in a high-pitched voice. “If you married Bro, Jade wouldn’t have a wicked stepmother!”

Jake laughed. “That’s true! She’d have to stepfather and I haven’t heard any stories about evil stepfathers!^[1]”

“So you should marry Bro! He’ll be the blushing bride in orange!”

“Yes, I’ll marry Bro Strider and carry him over the threshold in Hyde Park! I’ll have a barrel of fun consummating our marriage.”

“It’s settled! A September wedding! Because you two will Fall in love!”

“Yes, I will never Leaf him!”

Now Roy came out. “And if youse cheat-a on him, youse get-a da knife!”

“Oh, I’d never cheat on Bro! Nobody has a cock that can match your puppetmaster or the cockmanship and his fellatio is prime.”

Lil Cal came back out. “Hurray! Daddy has a new husband!”

Jake laughed. Dirk was so serious off-mic most of the time but it was good to see he had a playful side. Two men marrying, what a silly idea!

Dirk kissed Jake long and hard. For Dirk it felt like the kiss at the end of the wedding but for Jake it was just another kiss in a long lifetime of kissing. Jake still did enjoy it.

When they parted, Jake said, “Now, if you want more rassling, keep in mind I’m in my fifties and it will take much long for me to get up that old steep hill again, about fifteen minutes I’d say.”

“Fifteen minutes? How long did it take for you in your prime?”

“I would say fifteen seconds.”

“Fifteen seconds…wow.”

“You should do one of those blasted enemas you love so much. I shan’t. I’m afraid after dressing as Little Bo Peep I’m a tad sheepish about taking the woman’s role again tonight.”

“You did not like what we did tonight in this scene? You are traumatized? Have I used my hypnosis for evil?”

“Oh, no, I feel you exorcised some demons from me, better than a Holy Water enema, it’s just I’m not in the mood to get buggered again.”

“That is a relief.”

Jake reached around and goosed Dirk’s ass, which while it was not as good as Jake’s booty was still one of the top asses Jake had enjoyed.

“Now go prepare Papa’s booty for Round Two,” Jake said.

So Dirk got off the bed and went to the bathroom to do an enema. When he got back, the two men talked some more while they waited for Dirk to pick up steam.

“I know it’s awful bringing up that man while we’re enjoying ourselves,” Jake said, “But again, please don’t tell anyone about Colonel Sassacre at Lafayette Square.”

Dirk vowed, “As part of my undying bond to you, I will not reveal that.”

“Thank you. Good Lord, I hate having a half-brother like him.”

“Doesn’t Sam Crocker have three older brothers? Don’t you consider them your half-brothers too?”

Jake wrinkled his face in thought. “I never give them a fig of thought, truth be told. They left home before I learned I was Mayor Crocker’s bastard and they never became famous outside of Missouri. I can only remember the name of one of them and that’s because he was named after his pa. What are the names of the other two? Saint’s alive, who the fuck are they? I can barely count them as siblings.”

Dirk looked thoughtful himself. “I think a man that impregnates both his scullery maid and his wife at the same time must surely-”

Jake put his finger on Dirk’s mouth. “Don’t you dare fucking manifest that for me, I don’t want anymore secret family.”

Dirk said when Jake removed his finger, “But he’s been dead since 1941. I can’t manifest any new illegitimate children if none already exist in our world. It is a logical impossibility.”

“You never know. The universe is tricky that way.”

“Do you have any bastard children?”

“Oh, I pulled my teddy out in the nick of time like a damsel tied to the train tracks. Most of the time, that is, when I felt like it. Frankly, I didn’t want any children except Jade so I don’t think I have any other children.”

“You never used a condom?”

“It’s too embarrassing to buy that rubber contraption, are you really going to tell a pharmacist that you plan to rassle? And I doubt they have any in my size anyway. Better to just be incredibly optimistic about the outcomes, is what I say. Do you ever use condoms?”

“No, I don’t. I only have sex with men.”

“See? No need. Rassling with men is so much easier.”

They started to make out and soon both of them were hard. Dirk took out the Vaseline and Jake rubbed it on his cock and on Dirk’s hole. He plowed Dirk into the mattress as he talked about Papa’s big brown cock in his sonny boy’s little pink hole. Dirk felt like his marriage was being consummated. Jake just felt good. Afterward, they showered together and then stumbled into the bedroom to sleep.

The next morning, as Jake dressed, he talked about his plans.

“Now that my holiday in the Big Apple is over, I’m flying to Chicago to pick up Bec and a few provisions, then I’m heading north to Big Maple Leaf Country.”

“Oh,” said Dirk, “You’re going to see Jade.”

“Jade? I’m not seeing Jade, that would be a completely different trip. I’m going to the Cascade Mountains to hunt Mountain goats with man’s best friend Bec.”

“Why can’t you see your daughter?”

“Because British Columbia and Quebec are two entirely different provinces, my man! Miles and miles apart!”

“You should still see her.”

Jake stopped adjusting his tie and turned to Dirk. “Look here, you sound just like my sister-in-law Leia and she’s only seen Jade in the hospital once. Plus you live only a hop and a skip away from your Davey and you never see him.”

Dirk sighed. “Understandable.”

“I send Jade loads of letters and I’ll send you loads of letters too! But my letters to you will be in code.” He tapped his nose.

“Yes, let us go over code. We must be extremely careful.”

So they went over the code in detail, detail that is unimportant to us as readers.

“Speaking of mystery,” Jake asked, “What is the deal with that Lil Cal puppet of yours?”

“I did a ritual with Voodoo priestess to put part of my soul into that wooden ventriloquist dummy.”

Jake’s green eye widened. “Really? Voodoo? The dark arts?”

“But I might have wasted my allowance, though in those oil-rich days it was quite high. At least an old colored woman got to eat well for one night. In any case, I have willed Lil Cal to John Egbert. He will know what to do with it.”

“Yes, he is a good chap. Won a Medal of Honor and all, fighting an entire Chinese battalion! He could have been my son-in-law.”

“Ah yes, the Korean War. He never likes to talk about it.”

“That’s a shame.”

When Jake was ready to go, he gave Dirk one last kiss good bye. When they pulled away, Dirk wanted to sign “I love you” but he couldn’t even do that. He was so in love with this man. The Most Interesting Man in the World. Even though Bro Strider was a celebrity, he felt like just some silly puppet man compared to the First Negro Senator since Reconstruction. Yet he also felt that he was another half of Jake Harley’s soul, reunited finally after all these years.

Meanwhile, as Jake took a cab to the airport, his mind was fixed only on the thrill of the hunt. He wanted to be out of the city and in the great outdoors with only his beloved dog for companionship. Though he enjoyed his time with Dirk, he was an introvert at heart and needed some alone time.

That night, Dirk sat down to write his first letter to Jake Harley.  

^[1] “Lolita” had not been published yet, not that Jake would read it.

Chapter Text

While hunting in the mountains of British Columbia with his dog Bec, Jake had many thoughts, mostly about movies, but he did think a lot of Dirk. Jake had not rassled in a long time and he had forgotten how enjoyable it was. Turns out he could have a fling and nothing bad would happen to him. They had had a marvelous time and now they would be pen pals until they got bored with that. For now, he worked in his head a novelization of his encounter with some angry Mountain goats that he’d type up and encode latter. He also had some saucy fantasies where he would pretend to be a frisky puppy and Dirk would be his stern but loving owner. Lots of potential for bone puns there.

When he got back to his Hyde Park mansion, his personal secretary Miss Azul gave him the mail. One of the many pieces was a thick bright orange envelope from a Dirk Strider in New York, New York. Jake took the letter into his study to read, unzipping his trousers first in case it was saucy. He decapchalogued his cipher and started to work decoding the letter he got. However, every sentence filled him with more and more horror, his penis entirely forgotten in the exchange.

Dear Jake,

Let me start off by saying I have never loved anyone as much as I love you. You are truly the missing half of my soul. Nobody else can compare to you. You are the Most Interesting Man in the World. You are like a majestic creature to me. You have the nobility of a stallion, the strength of a stallion, even the appendage of a stallion! I know you feel the same way as well. We understand each other in a way nobody else can understand us. God truly made us for each other. I know you loved your wife Alice, but she was just there to prepare your heart to accept my love. Our hearts are ready for each other. We will need nobody else. Even though we will live apart, nobody else will share your bed with you, just as nobody else will share my bed with me, except Lil Cal. We are married in the eyes of God, even though He does not approve of our sex life.

I could not fully tell you this earlier, but now in coded writing I can open my heart like a surgeon on a table. Since we understand each other so well, I can confess the thoughts that have been troubling me. You will not reveal these thoughts to anyone, just as I will keep secret what Colonel Sassacre did in Lafayette Square. Though I do not intend to act on these thoughts, they still trouble me night and day, a voice within me keeps repeating, do it do it do it. I will now write out a list of these thoughts.

1. Whenever I use the subway, I have the urge to either jump on the track or worse, push somebody else. This is why I always take cabs. Still, I fear one day I won’t be able to get a cab and I’ll take the subway and the worst will happen.
2. Even though I am hypnotizing Senate Majority Leader Johnson for purely nonsexual reasons, as I have told you, I continually wonder if I should use my powers to see if the rumors around him are true.
3. I have considered taking my feces, drying them out, converted them into a powder, and putting them on pastries in various bakeries across the city, though I know this is very unsanitary and disgusting.
4. Now I know you will judge me for this, but I have considered having a song on my show that’s just the n-word repeated over and over again, with a few wops thrown in. Don’t worry, I don’t plan on doing this.
5. When I brought Dave to a brothel to take his virginity, while I waited for him, I wished that I was the prostitute making love to him. I have no sexual desire for my baby brother, I just wish that I was a part of his life at that moment. However, I fear I have given my brother homosexual tendencies. Though he is quite a lady’s man, I can sense he is also attracted to men.
6. I would never sleep with John Egbert. I don’t agree with workplace affairs, I despise men who sleep with their secretaries, and since he is a friend of my baby brother I believe there would be something somewhat incestuous with sleeping him. However, he is an attractive man with an ass almost as good as yours, and I’ve noticed traits in him that point to him being easy to hypnotize. Plus I suspect he is also attracted to men. I respect him too much to do it but it is tempting.
7. That time when I took Dave to the brothel is not the only time I have been tempted to molest my baby brother. It is actually a relief not to live together anymore, though I do love him.
8. I keep a guillotine as a metaphor. I put the killing thing right in my apartment but I don’t give it the power to kill. I must prove myself stronger than my urge to cut off my head. I will not be like my parents, or like the Japanese officer who killed himself in front of me.
9. I have heard of a drug called Miracles that causes powerful hallucinations. I have considered taking some of it and putting it in the water supply to see what would happen. But what kind of monster would force people to take hallucinogens like that?
10. I can do a spotless impersonation of President Dwight Eisenhower and First Secretary Nikita Khrushchev and also know some phone tricks as well and have consider using these skills to start a nuclear war between the USA and the USSR.

This went on for several horrible pages.

95. I have thought about sewing three people together ass-to-mouth to make what I call a Human Centipede, though I am not sure that’s the right insect as centipedes have more than six legs. I am not a surgeon but as you know I am a good seamstress, so possibly I could do this. The question is how would they receive nutrition? However I would never do this. Kidnapping one person by myself would be difficult, let alone three people.

Every day I think of new horrible crimes against humanity I could be doing. I’m like Dr. Mengele and Dr. Ishii combined in my head, but I’m also a homosexual who thinks of nothing but raping attractive men in my head. I know you sensed that I am evil, but you still love me. You confessed your deepest darkest fantasy to me. Your deepest darkest fantasy has nothing on mine. We are like ebony and ivory, but you are ivory and I am ebony. A better metaphor might be yin and yang, but I’ve already written the line about ebony and ivory.

I look forward to reading your love letter back to me. This is the start to a romantic relationship that will last the rest of our lives.

Your forever lover,

Dirk

So Roderick “Bro” Strider loved Jake “Hass the Rock” Harley, not as a chum but as a destined soulmate lover. He did not think they simply had a fling but that this was a courtship ending in their marriage, officiated by puppets of all things. Not to mention he was tormented by demons that would make Sigmund Freud die again.

Jake’s first thought on finishing the letter was he should completely ignore it. However, that did not seem to be the right idea. He decided to literally sleep on it.

That night, he again dreamed of his first apartment in Chicago. Alice was standing in the living room, wearing a purple velvet drape coat, a blue and black striped shirt, a bolo tie, pants that matched the coat, and tiger-print suede creeper shoes, like she was a Teddy Boy in London.

“Ghost the motherfucker,” she said.

“Ghost?” Jake asked.

“To ghost. It means to cut off all contact with someone. It be a word I just invented now but it will catch on later.”

“You want me to ignore the letter?”

“Sure. That what you want to do anyway, ain’t it?”

“But what if he rings me up to ask if I got the letter?”

“Call you up to ask you if you got his letter where he detailed raping his baby brother? And for the record, as someone with an actual full-blooded sibling I grew up with, that shit ain’t normal. I ain’t never thought that about Leia.”

“What if he still contacts me?”

“Then you continue to ignore him! Like you should have ignored him in this first place! I told you he could catch feelings.”

Jake turned away from her. “I’m not sure about this.”

“I ghosted plenty of girls. It will go swell, don’t worry. New York be a big city, he’ll find someone else.”

Alice light a cigarette and smoked it as Jake thought.

“Wait,” he said, “Didn’t one of your lady loves kill herself?”

“Cynthia’s drowning in Schuylkill River be unrelated to me. And damn unsanitary.”

“He does have a guillotine in his home…he’s awful fixated on suicide…he could kill himself any day now…”

“Yes, so it wouldn’t be your fault if he killed himself! He just a crazy white boy!”

Jake pounded his left hand with his right hand. “He deserves a letter back, as my friend if not my lover. I shall not abandon him.”

Alice groaned. “Will you at least listen to my stock market advice?”

Jake turned back to Alice. “Ah, yes, the stock market. You said something about automobiles?”

However, at that moment a loud thunderbolt woke Jake up. He looked out the window to see Hyde Park flooded with summer rain. Soon he’d be back in Washington DC, a few hours drive from New York City.

“I shall write Dirk a letter.”  

Chapter Text

Historian’s note: Though these letters were encrypted and burned after reading, the carbon copies of the original unencrypted letters still remained and were passed on to the daughter and the younger brother respectively.

Dear Dirk,

While I was chuffed as all get-go that you wrote me back with such a lengthy and girthy letter, I must confess to you I do not share your intense and quite frightening romantic feelings. I do love you, old boy, but as a friend and not as some destined soulmate husband. I don’t have in my heart what you have in yours. Don’t be glum in the puss about this, young chap. Friendship isn’t something lower than romance. Friendship is magic! We can exchange letters and we can have a roll in the hay whenever I’m in town, but don’t ask me to marry you! We are our own separate men with our own separate lives. Don’t you have a life in New York City what with that big-time radio show you have? I am the senator from Illinois, so I can’t live in the Empire State, I must stay in the Inland Empire State, my Second City. So please find someone else in that metropolis of yours so we can enjoy our wonderful super-platonic friendship without all these ridiculous romantic feelings you have.

Platonically yours,

Jake

Dear Jake,

I understand you are reluctant to share your heart with another man. There are not any examples of men loving men that you can see on the Hollywood screen. However, in my life I have encountered men who formed loving romantic partnerships with other men. I believe you are in love with me as I am in love with you, you just need to be convinced of it. If we are not meant to be together, why do our hearts beat as one when we are together? How come we managed to get matching tattoos over time and space, even though we did not meet until August 4, 1955? How come we fit together like two pieces in a puzzle? How come our penises are nearly identical? All the signs in the universe point to us being soulmates.

We could have such a happy life together. I am willing to move to Chicago. I am a big enough star that I could make demands like that. The Second City has plenty of showbiz, as you have bragged to me. We could get an apartment together and live as secret husband and husband. You are a widower who has fathered a child, people already think you are normal. I suppose I could invite girls over every once and awhile so I look like a swinging bachelor and not a long-time bachelor. However, I must repeat we will not sleep with anyone else. Why would we need to when the sex between us is so perfect?

Please give me your answer soon. Hopefully we can spend Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years Eve together. Jade could use a stepfather.

Love,

Dirk

Dear Dirk,

I am touched that you are willing to move to Chicago. However, I think if you hate Chicago-style pizza, you’ll hate everything else Chicago-style. You probably put ketchup on your hot dog and that’s a hanging offense here. Plus, the winters! Brrr brrr! You think New York City is cold but it has nothing on Chicago! The summers aren’t any colder to compensate either. You’re either shivering or sweating your booty off in the town Mrs. O’Leary’s cow burned down.

Still, despite your tender words, old man, I just don’t love you the way you love me. It’s nothing personal of the sort. Even my beloved wife Alice I did not love her the way you love me. Many a man or woman or mountain goat has loved me and I only love them as a friend. God has made me immune to Cupid’s Arrow, that’s the way I was as a boy and that’s the way I am as a man in his fifties. I am without romantic feelings. I suppose a good word combining before “without” and “romantic feeling” would be “not twitter-patted”.

Now Alice also did not love me the way all the silly girls did. That’s why I decided to marry her. She did find me handsome and charming and perhaps smarter than I let on, but she was not in love with me. She wanted to be out of her house and set up as the Lady of the House with her own child, so she married me. We enjoyed some rolls in the hay that were as damn good as the ones we had in our summer fling but we never fell in love. In fact, we married because we could continue having rolls in the hay with anyone else who caught our eye. If I didn’t fall in love with her, I can’t see myself falling in love with you.

However, we can remain friends. I look forward to your next letter which I hope will be chocked-full of friendly banter and no more of this silly girlish romantic talk.

Your friend,

Jake

Dear Jake,

You claim that you do not feel romantic love. However, this is psychologically impossible. Everyone feel romantic love. It is a part of being human. Are you claiming you are not a human being? You are not a taxidermied animal on display at the American Museum of Natural History. You clearly have all the thoughts and emotions of a human being, so you must also feel romantic love. If you feel sexual desire for men, why would you not also fall in love with them? I have fallen in love with other men before, but never as strongly as what I feel for you. That was just a match compared to the flame of the Statue of Liberty.

I hate to say this about my romantic rival, but you also clearly had romantic feelings for your late wife Alice. I have met couples who married for convenience and they have never talked as lovingly about each other as you do about your Alice. You are always calling her “my Alice”. She was an important woman in your life, the mother of your only child, and you say you didn’t love her? You were heart-broken when she died and sued the surgeon who botched the bullet-removal. You can’t step foot in a hospital because of her, not even to visit your only child. You converted to a different religion because you were that traumatized by her death. Even after death she’s on your mind. She is a fucking tulpa! Yet I’m supposed to believe you cared no more for her than any friend you “rolled in the hay” with?

If you could open your heart for Alice, could you not open your heart for me? How much better for you would it be if you were married to a man. An actual man, not just a woman who wore pants sometimes. I think men can understand each other better than women can. The sex will be better. I can tell you are more attracted to men than you are women. I can make love to you better than Alice ever could.

Please, give me a chance. I will eat Chicago-style pizza.

Love,

Dirk

Dear Dirk,

Sorry, old man, but I already explained it to you that I don’t love you like that! I do not have romantic feelings for you! How many times can I explain it to you! Romantic feelings are like chocolate, everyone else can taste the cocoa but I only taste the sugar and milk. Or perhaps it’s like a pizza without tomato sauce, though I don’t know why you’d want to eat that when the best thing is a pizza drowned in tomato sauce.
You say my relationship with my Alice was romantic but it is not your relationship to define, buster! You never even met her. It was a completely 100% platonic marriage! Sure I loved and cherished her, but I love and cherish a lot of people like my daughter Jade or my sister-in-law Leia or this fellow Travis who you don’t know but he’s my friend. I’d be devastated at the death of any loved one, including you even though you’re acting like a real blockhead. I have a lot of love, just not the type of love you want.

I am sorry if you think I should be expected to only rassle with you from now on. There’s a lot of folks lining up to rassle me and you can’t be the only one. Sorry you are so off-putting even to the freaks and weirdos in New York City you have to fly in new lovers, but I cannot be your lover. You cannot propose marriage to people using puppets! Even if you were a normal man you’d be a long-time bachelor if that’s how you play the game.
So, can we get on to discussing something else? Please???

Your Friend,

Jake

Dear Jake,

So you are completely heartless? You are incredibly disappointing to me. It is a shame that the honor of first Negro US senator since Reconstruction had to go to a man who is only Negro in the accident that his mother was a pitch-black scullery maid. Otherwise, you are an insulting caricature of white masculinity. You talk like a white man, you dress like a white man, you ignore the plight of the Negro like a white man, and you even hunt big game instead of possum like a white man. You model yourself on Theodore Roosevelt, even though he’d consider you an inferior specimen of the human species compared to his Dutch masterpiece. I agree with Teddy, but not for racial reasons. It makes sense that you barely look like a Negro, given that inside you are barely a Negro at all. It’s only our society’s ridiculous one-drop rule that makes you one, otherwise you’d be considered a cracker. The constituency of South Side Chicago was robbed of representation when they voted for you, and I don’t know what the rest of Illinois was thinking when they decided to put you in the Senate. Your extreme levels of charisma have blinded everyone into thinking you are a competent leader, when really all you are is a barber with some amusing tales to spin. You are a fraud, the most empty suit of a person I have ever met, and I regularly interview politicians. I wish I never met you.

Yours,

Dirk

P. S. I still think Chicago-style pizza is disgusting. Leave it to Chicago to take something perfected in New York City and ruin it with Midwest charm.

Dear Dirk,

Of course you would complain that my blackness is lacking. That is all you are seeking in the Negro chaps you bed, isn’t it? Not the content of our character but the melanin in our skin. If Negro men didn’t have plush rumps and impressive john thomases you wouldn’t give a whit about our plight. You probably don’t give a whit for the Negro woman’s plight, given your extreme homosexuality. I saw the way you looked at other colored fellows when we were at the jazz club, it was like Jolly Old Saint Nick visiting a Christmas luncheon buffet. You were slobbering like a wolf in a Tex Avery cartoon. It was a real notch in your bedside to claim the first Negro in the Senate since the Reconstruction Era. Will you seduce Jackie Robinson next? I know you get a thrill from the miscegenation. Or perhaps you feel out of place, being a Sicilian coming from being the niggers of Italy to being something almost white here, even if you are not accepted into country clubs. You have no love for your own people or for the embattled Jewish people, perhaps because you falsely see in them your own disgusting duplicity when you are the real villain. When you look in the mirror you would rather see a colored chap like me. I would say the appropriate portmanteau for you is Wegro. If you think you are an ally to the Negro community you are not-so-sadly mistaken.

Yours,

Jake

p.s. Chicago-style pizza is fucking delicious.

Dear Jake,

You say I am only interested in Negro men. I tell you I am also interested in Mexicans, Filipinos, and Japanese men, and I can also tell you that people’s notions about the size of the genitals of Oriental men are wrong. In any case, I can point that you were the one to bring up your race in the bedroom, not me. You delighted in our miscegenation more than I ever did. The truth of the matter is you have a fetish for white men. It was a fortuitous thing your stupid childhood vow was against white women and not men, because if it were the latter your balls would have exploded within a week in a firework show they could see in St. Louis. You loved to tell me about all the racist white men you seduced, like Grace Kelly’s Irish father. You love Merry Old England so much, you were a supporter of the Allies before Pearl Harbor just because Goering was bombing the hell out of your British boytoys. If you didn’t prefer British boys to German you would have sided with the Axis. Tell me, when you visit London, do you sodomize all of the House of Lords or do they sodomize you? It all boils down to your Freudian feelings for your father. You’ve somehow managed to be a man with an Electra Complex. All you want is for your white-ass Mayor Father to notice you and take you home. Perhaps you also want some attention from your Hollywood half-brother as well? That senator lives rent-free in your mind. Do you wish to be married to Betty, or do you want to kill Betty and take her place as Colonel Sassacre’s wife? That’s why you won’t let me ruin his career, even though you claim to hate him. I wish I hadn’t let you touch me.

Yours,

Dirk

Dirk,

How dare you call me an incestuous pervert when you have admitted to lusting after your own flesh-and-blood? You admitted to me already that you constantly think of your baby brother’s nubile man-flesh. Now you have scared him off with your sadistic parenting and he doesn’t dare set foot in the same congressional district as you. While I believe in some childhood rough-and-tumble, the trials you describe putting Davey through sound like you just beating up a poor defenseless child. As for me, I have never spanked Jade. I feel she is smart enough for me to explain what is right and wrong. This is a more civilized way to raise children. You, sir, are a savage and a brute. You say you did it to toughen him up but in the end Dave was the damsel in distress to John Egbert, who we can all agree is lacking in manliness. I have never seen a parent as horrid at his job as you and I’ve been around that globe many a time. You should have been in a juvenile institution instead of hacking it up on the vaudeville stage. Actually, come to think of it, I doubt that you have resisted your urge to violate your baby brother. I think, as Willy Shakespeare put it, “The lady doth protest too much”. No wonder Dave couldn’t save himself in Korea, you probably buggered him so much he couldn’t run! John Egbert is in danger of your lust, not to mention my colleague Lyndon B. Johnson. You worry about becoming a villain but I think you already are one.

Signed,

Jake

Jake,

Calling me a child molester with absolutely no proof I ever touched Dave inappropriately? You are just like your half-brother. However, my Dave is doing completely fine, living by himself in Northwest Washington DC, paying his own rent and holding down a job in the Pentagon, which he couldn’t do if he wasn’t psychologically balanced. Meanwhile, your Jade had a nervous breakdown after a man that was not her father loved her and now she’s imprisoned in a hospital far away from American journalists. I have looked into cases where a patient has epileptic fits but no neurological abnormalities. They call it Hysteria. You know what the psychologists say is the cause of Hysteria? It is caused by criminal assault on a young girl. Now, we know that John Egbert is an gentleman who wouldn’t even hold hands with a girl without marrying her, and besides Jade had these fits before Egbert, so what could be the cause? You do not have to be your beloved fictional detective Sherlock Holmes to figure this one out. Don’t call me a bad parent when it’s clear that you raped your little girl. Have you asked the shrinks to give Jade a lobotomy? I think you should if you want your political career to continue.

Dirk

To the Boorish Cur,

That’s it! No more Senator Nice Guy! Meet me at dawn on Theodore Roosevelt Island and bring your katana. We’ll settle this like

Dear Mr. Strider,

I do not wish to receive any more correspondences from you. If you send me any more, I will be forced to take legal action.

Sincerely,

Senator Jake Harley

Chapter Text

On one of the lazy days between the end of Christmas Day and his return to the Senate, Jake sent off his last letter to Dirk. The next day, he woke up to discover his beloved dog Bec had died. Though the old boy was getting on in years and Jake suspected their holiday in the Cascades was their last adventure together, he had not expected it to happen this soon. This death was unrelated to his affair with Dirk, but it did result in Jake calling the Wrench Institute where Jade lived, which resulted in him discovering she now lived with a Doctor Rose Lalonde. When had Jade’s nice friend Rose become a doctor? Well, he supposed that all interns become doctors if everything goes right, but that still felt like a betrayal to him. He had sent Jade a Christmas present, or rather had Miss Azul chose and send one, and apparently Dr. Lalonde had taken the present home with her. Jake was connected then to Dr. Lalonde’s house, and he had the following conversation with Jade, which was thoughtfully recorded by the FBI.

Daughter: Hello, Lalonde Residence, Jade speaking.
Pa: It’s your old pa, Hass the Rock, why are you at the Lalonde residence?
Daughter: I thought it better than that creepy old hospital.
Pa: I know anywhere is fine sight better than a blasted hospital but why leave after you begged me like an orphan in India to go?
Daughter: Why didn’t you ever visit me in the hospital?
Pa: You are up on that map pretty high in another country, my dear, in an entirely other country.
Daughter: Why’d you chose that hospital then?
Pa: Why’d you chose to go to a hospital at all, my dear?
Daughter: You just hate hospitals, don’t you?
Pa: Of course I hate those damn-blasted death factories, they took your mother’s and my wife’s life all in one, but you begged me and said a little positivity and fresh air wouldn’t fix your sleep-bye problem and I listened.
Daughter: (softly) And never listened to me since.
Pa: I sent you regular letters and you didn’t write as much as me, I’ll tell you that. But enough of this, are you over that white boy yet?
Daughter: I have been wondering, would you have still let him hang out with us if he were Negro?
Pa: Look, the radicals may have convinced you that I am the most self-hating Negro in the world and that’s why I talk this way but I do believe more than a tenth of the Negro population can rise above their incredibly lowly station, perhaps even fifteen percent.
Daughter: No, this isn’t about race politics, I mean would you have let John hang out with us if he could have easily married me?
Pa: I am not the type of father from film and fiction who comes out to the hayloft with a shotgun saying whatever the chap does to the lass, he’ll do to the chap, if you know what I mean. If I do come out guns a blazing, it is to invite the chap to a friendly game of hunting.
Daughter: Okay, you never threatened with guns, but you were always so rude to my boyfriends and pointing out their flaws and shortcomings.
Pa: I never insulted your boyfriends.
Daughter: Yes you would, you’d just do it in some passive-aggressive way, always saying “sorry you can’t be a manly as me”.
Pa: Well, none of them were as manly as me, you must admit few men are going to measure up to me. Also they might as well have shown up in overalls and a pickax for how obvious their true profession was gold prospector and not lover boy.
Daughter: See! You hated them!
Pa: You hated them as well, otherwise I’d be addressing you as something other than Miss Jade Harley right now. Anyway, this was three boyfriend? Your dance card was not very full.
Daughter: Arghhhh, I hate you! You don’t want me to be a strong independent married woman, you want me be attached to you! You want me to be the new Alice!
Pa: My wife? Is that the bullmoose hooky your lady doctor friend coooked up in the Freudian lab for you?
Daughter: I can come up with that on my own.
Pa: It is silliest idea, the absolutely silliest idea! You as the next Alice? You quit ballet class at age ten, how could you be Alice?
Daughter: That’s not what Rose, I mean what I meant.
Pa: Though would it really be such a rotten no-good idea for you to be my escort at Chicago and Washington DC posh high society events, and then in summer go on adventures with me, just like the good ol’ days? Isn’t that much more exciting than being a wife?
Daughter: And then be your unpaid nursemaid? No! I will not do that! Get an actual wife!
Pa: I have told everyone a million times, stepmothers are evil incarnate! Have you ever read Hansel and Gretel or Cinderella or Snow White? Nasty wicked child-killing witches!
Daughter: Look, I know evil stepmothers are out there but Rose’s stepmother is a fine woman and she gets along with her better than her actual mother. You have no excuse!
Pa: I just think if you came home to Chicago you could think about this better.
Daughter: No! I want to stay with Rose. Good bye!
Pa: Wait! -

Now we know the full-context of this conversation, knowledge that even the author did not have at the time.

Meanwhile, Dirk called up Dave a few days later when he got Jake’s letter.

DAVE: Hello hello, Dave Strider here.
BRO: I want to know if you are mentally healthy.
DAVE:
BRO: I will be very angry with you if I find out you haven’t been telling me about any psychological disturbance you have.
DAVE: Oh, yeah, sure, I’m sleeping like a baby. Better than a baby, we all know those colicky bastards are always crying and pooping their pants, I out-perform those babies. I lay down and shut my eyes and I’m out cold for eight hours dreaming of nothing but sheep like I’m Scottish or possibly Kiwi. Sleepy Dave, that’s what they call me. All is quiet on my western front.
BRO: I never molested you, right? Even though I had the opportunity?
DAVE: Um, nope, I was as virgin as the Virgin Mary, no, better than that, as virgin as a ham radio operator. Until you took me to that brothel where I lost my innocence. Otherwise, no bad touch for me.
BRO: Good. You have no reason to be psychologically unbalanced. I am sending you a letter.
DAVE: Ah, about pizza again.
BRO: Yes. Happy New Year.
DAVE: Happy New Year.

And so Dirk remained unaware of the nightmares Dave had about his time in Korea, nightmares that had their root cause in Colonel Sassacre’s wife, the Batterwitch.     

Chapter Text

Despite it all, Roderick “Bro” Strider was still in love with Jake. Not even outlining all of Jake’s many flaws in a series of letters put him off the man himself. Jake was still the most beautiful and interesting man he’d ever met. He had flaws, but his flaws were a mirror of Dirk’s flaws. Both of them had struggled to be the most charming person they could despite their introversion, thrown into the cruel world by the loss of their parents. When Dirk was six, still new to speech, he vowed to master it. As for Jake, at age six, he lost his mother to measles and the man who was supposed to be his father, and though he had his grandma he basically had to navigate a hostile town alone. Even though they were born sixteen years apart, they were twins, more than that Colonel Sassacre was twins with Hass the Rock with their matching birthdays. Maybe they could help each other fix their flaws, or at least be comfortable with them. Yet Jake had rejected him. Nothing could make Jake see that life together would be better than life alone. He preferred his dreams of his dead wife to a living breathing partner. Dirk had never met Alice Plein Harley but he sure resented her.

Dirk knew there’d be other people who would sleep with Jake. Jake was a very desirable man, even at 54, and he was a very slutty guy. If a weird alien had asked him to make dirty art of Jake and Roxy or Jake and Betty, Dirk would surely do it for the bit, though he had no idea why an alien would ask that. Yet thinking seriously that other people would get to enjoy Jake’s touch, that they would get him to moan, that he might call another man his son, that someone else would make Jake as happy as Dirk made him during their time together, it killed Dirk inside. He felt like his stereotypical Sicilian, ready to commit a justifiable murder with a stiletto over this. In his heart, Dirk was monogamous and he had to have Jake.    

So Dirk did not give up. He sent Jake obscene postcards, “French” postcards as they were called, with the words “I’m sorry” and “I love you” in orange text but with no name. On Jake’s birthday, February 9th, he sent the pretty blue doll dress as a present. A few days later, on Valentine’s Day, he sent Jake a huge red rose arrangement. Sure, Jake also got flowers from Illinois’ beer-brewing and meat-packing industries, along with other various secret admirers, but Dirk’s flower arrangement included tiny little marionettes. Still, Jake seemingly ignored Dirk.

However, Jake was actually thinking of Dirk. One night in March, he slipped into a dream of his first Chicago apartment to discuss it with his wife tulpa. She was wearing seafoam green tunic with a darker green hood, a very strange outfit to Jake. She was seated at the somewhat-cheaper piano they bought for the apartment, the Steinway she loved still at the Philadelphia mansion. They never did manage to buy a better piano before her untimely death. However, she was managing to make Steinway-level music come out of that piano as she played Habanero from the opera Carmen.

“So the crazy white boy still after you,” she said.

“Yes, my friend,” Jake said as he strolled up to the piano, “But I’ve been thinking: why not give up? We are such good chums with so much in commons, the rassling was the stuff of the ancient Olympics if they included sex, and I really don’t want to read in The New York Times he took a swim in the Hudson like Ophelia, so why not be his husband or whatever nonsense he wants?”

“Do you want it?”

“You can’t always get what you want, my dear. I didn’t expect to get married after my ma’s husband up and abandoned me, but you made such a lovely offer I proposed to you.”

“Yes, because I made it clear I was not in love with you.”

“Well, maybe I need to get over folks being in love with me. God made me so lovable, why not enjoy it?”

“Get over folks being in love with you?” she asked as her playing got slowly angrier, “Get over that feeling like ants burrowing under your skin whenever someone in love with you, seeing the madness in their eyes, knowing they are possessed by a wild emotion you will never understand, knowing they want to possess you like an object, like a doll, knowing the girls in love be turning into Maenads when they in love with you and boy you Orpheus to them, knowing that boys be just as crazy, your own father-in-love falling in love with you and dying away from lack of you, and you know you ain’t never fall in love with anyone, not even me, your wife and soulmate and the mother of your only child, this be your curse just as heavy as the curses on the figures of Greek mythology, this be your burden, you can not ‘just get over it’” She abandoned playing Bizet’s notes to bang the keys. “GHOST THE MOTHERFUCKER!”

Jake threw up his arms. “I DON’T WANT TO!”

She got off the piano bench to confront him. “You shouldn’t have fucked him in the first place!”

“Oh come on! Like you were ever that careful with affairs of the heart! You remember when that angry husband came in with a pistol and I had to talk him down? You would have been having dangerous flings if you were still alive!”

“I would have been in my fifties, just like you, and old enough to control my lust.”

“I wouldn’t bet on that, I have heard folks say women grow in lust as they grow older.”

“But I am half a man, and my male side would have controlled myself, just like you should have controlled yourself. Dirk ain’t even that hot. Would you have slept with him if he took off that damn childish baseball cap first and you saw his bald head? Also, you loved jerking off Mr. Kelly.”

“That I did,” Jake said a little sheepishly.

“So, as I was saying, ghost the motherfucker.”

“Why can’t you just give me financial advice? You always had a real head for figures.”

“Come on, that advice was always just your ideas.”

“Really?”

“Yes! Alice Plein Harley taught you everything she knew about business, and you a clever motherfucker.”

Jake rubbed his chin. “But in the fall of 1941 you told me to buy up Hawaiian real estate. How did I know about Pearl Harbor?”

She sighed. “It was clear given the mindset of the Japanese high command and the choices taken by the United States government to sanction Japan and give aid to China that Japan would attack U.S. soil and Hawaii would be the prime location for this mission.”

“Um…”

“Or rather as a Page of Hope, you can access my powers as Thief of Mind to know what the Japanese high command was planning, as well as various other government officials.”

“Ah…”

“You are magic.”

Jake snapped his fingers. “That’s it, that’s the ticket.”

“It be like I said when you first dreamed of me: I’m just a manifestation of your super ego using the appearance and mannerisms of your late wife.”

“And I replied that’s what my Alice would say. She was a very skeptical woman.”

Jake leaned in to kiss her but she turned her head away, leaving him facing green hood.

“No kissing me, no kissing Roderick “Bro” Strider.”

“No kissing? What should I do?”

“You should get our daughter. She always kept you out of trouble. Well, out of much trouble.”

“Any advice getting her back?”

She turned to look at him sadly. “You know I ain’t never been much of a mother.”

“True, but you were a good wife.”

“I was good at play-acting as a wife. And you play-acted as a husband. That’s how we managed to do it for six years.”

“Maybe I can play-act with Dirk.”

“But he be playing it for real. You can’t play-act with him.”

“What if he kills himself?”

“It ain’t your responsibility. He ain’t in your constituency.”

“You’re heartless.”

“That’s why you married me, ain’t it?”

She sat down at the piano again and started to play the Entracte from Act 3 of Carmen as Jake collected his thoughts.

“So I just have to break the poor boy’s heart, aren’t I?” he asked.

“Mmm hmmm,” said his late wife.

“Any financial advice while I’m here?”

“You know what you doing…Harley Hair a billion dollar industry…you always had it in you.”

As the song came to a close, so did the dream.

FATHER: Come on, let’s go on an adventure!
DAUGHTER: That’s another thing! You kept taking me to active warzones! Remember that time we went to China and you were kidnapped by that crazy warlord?
FATHER: His name was Chang Tsung-chang and he was the perfect gentleman to me besides the kidnapping, he actually took quite a shining to me.
DAUGHTER: It was still very scary!
FATHER: Look, the world of the 1930s was very scary but it’s the 50s now and peace is breaking out all over! Except in Kenya, Algeria, Cuba, Oman, Afghanistan, and Finland, but we just won’t go there!
DAUGHTER: Okay, but-
FATHER: Though Algeria is a lovely country, right out of a Matisse painting, and the capital Algiers is so ancient yet bustling and I’d like to see Hippo Regius and the Canyons of Ghoufi, and I don’t think the fighting is that bad-
DAUGHTER: Argghhh *hangs up*

Chapter Text

Meanwhile, Dirk was in a depressive slump. He felt like he was starving though he had plenty of food. He felt like he was dying of thirst though he had plenty to drink. He felt like he couldn’t breath though he wasn’t being choked.^[1] It all came down to love-sickness. He had it bad. Others noted his terrible mood, but Dirk had made himself the type of person you don’t ask about their feelings, so nobody asked him why he was so depressed.

However, when he missed his show time on the second week of April, the station intervened by sending John, his current pianist and former personal assistant, to see him. John had the key to the apartment still, so he went in and knew that Dirk would be in the guillotine room. Indeed, Dirk was there, lying on the floor so he could see the blade, though his head was not in the device.

“Hey, Bro, how’re you doing?” John asked.

“Okay,” Dirk said.

“Cool, cool, I totally believe you are completely okay and that you are playing hooky for ironic reasons, keep us wanting more.”

“Wanting more.”

“Do you want me to make you a cup of coffee?”

“Yes.”

John went to the kitchen and made Dirk a cup of coffee like he used to do, back in the day. He gave the cup to Dirk with a spoon in it and Dirk stirred it as his stim. He noticed not for the first time that John was transfixed by the rhythmic noise, so Dirk stopped.

John uncaptchalogued a New York Times newspaper. “I know you said you were okay but maybe you’d be more okay if I read you some weird and interesting news items?”

“Maybe.”

“Hmm, Imogene Coca is doing her first dramatic role, playing a theatrical star beset by emotional insecurity. Maybe you’d be happy if you tried a dramatic role?”

“Nah.”

“I see that wolves stalked a stranded horse. You like horses, right?”

God, Dirk loved horses. “They’re okay.”

“That awful drill sergeant who ordered that forced march that killed six marines is getting a mental test. Good thing Dave isn’t like him.”

“Dave’s good.”

John kept going through various news items as Dirk looked at John’s mouth. The lust demon in Dirk, a most vile and unwelcome creature that he had named Caliborn, started speaking to him. “HYPNOTIZE HIM. PUT YOUR PENIS IN HIS MOUTH. NO GAG RELAX.” If Dirk had met John in a bathhouse he might have easily ignored him for better-looking men but since he had been introduced to John as the Hero who saved his baby brother he couldn’t help imagining defiling him. However, John’s comedic delivery and piano improvisation were tops and he made a damn good cup of coffee, so he was worth keeping around.

“Oh,” said John, “The head of the Senate subcommittee on the Finland kerfuffle is in town. Good ol’ Hass the Rock.”

Dirk perked up enough for even John to notice.

“Yeah,” said John, “you had such a good time with Senator Harley when he was last in town. In fact, I don’t think I’ve seen you happier with a guest. As for me, boy was that an awkward show! He’s probably told you I jilted his daughter and that’s kinda true. And then Mrs. Laghmani kept hitting on me and she’s pretty but she’s a married woman old enough to be my mom! But anyway I suppose Jake Harley is a fun guy to be around if you aren’t in some romantic drama with him. In my case with his daughter, not him.”

“Tell me more about the Finland thing.”

“Yeah, this Finnish patriot whose name I can’t pronounce is speaking at the UN.^[2] So Jake is probably staying in Turtle Bay. Do you like turtles? I wish I had a shell like a turtle so I could hide in it sometimes.”

So Jake “Hass the Rock” Harley was staying in New York City again? A plan was forming in Dirk’s mind.

“Leave.”

John had a pained expression of his face. “Um, the station manager did want to know if you’ll be okay by the time the next show comes around? Could you give me your word you will be?”

“Yes.”

John breathed out and looked relieved. “Okay, I’ll see you Monday.”

“Sure.”

John, having done what he needed to do, quickly left Dirk to his own devices. Dirk knew John did not care much for him and was only doing what it was obligated to do. Well, John would still be Dirk’s Heir when Dirk died, and Dirk would do his best not to rape John. So it was a good relationship.

After some time collecting his thoughts, Dirk left the guillotine room. He knew what he planned to do.

PHONE OPERATOR: Waldorf-Astoria Hotel, how may I help you?
LOVER: Please transfer my call to Senator Jake Harley.
PHONE OPERATOR: At this hour?
LOVER: Please, I’m a friend, Bro Strider.
PHONE OPERATOR: Bro Strider? One moment, please.
BELOVED: Hello? Jake Harley speaking?
LOVER: Hass the Rock, thank God you’re there.
BELOVED: Dirk? Now you’re calling my hotel room?
LOVER: I needed to talk to you. I’m in a phone booth on the corner of Park Avenue and 51st street and I just took an overdose of sleeping pills and I don’t know how much longer it will be before I die, so if you need to confess something now is the time.
BELOVED: *laughs*
LOVER: Why are you laughing?
BELOVED: Oh come on, a man like you obsessed with the blade and a manly heroic death isn’t going to overdose on sleeping pills like a hysterical woman.
LOVER: You think I would lie about this?
BELOVED: Of course! You’re an entertainer, you lie for a living! You just want me to confess my love to you.
LOVER: See, this is why we are Soulmates. You know me so well that you can see through my lies. Not everyone can do that.
BELOVED: No, we are just good friends, or at least we would be good friends if you’d stop with these horsefeather shenanigans and keep things platonic.
LOVER: So my grand romantic scheme didn’t work.
BELOVED: Yes, romance doesn’t work on me, I’ve told you a million times.
LOVER: I’ll just go home to my apartment with its working guillotine. As you said, I am obsessed with the blade. Perhaps a blade will end me.
BELOVED: Um, actually, maybe you can spend the night with me. It is awfully chilly tonight and perhaps you shouldn’t be alone even if you haven’t overdosed on pills?
LOVER: I’ll be right there.

Dirk smiled. Just as planned.

In twenty minutes time, Dirk was at Jake’s door. Jake opened while wearing his eyeglasses n a bathrobe fitting his age. Dirk was not wearing his shades and his orange eyes looked so hangdog. They both silently walked through the suite to reach the bedroom.

“I suppose it would be more platonic, buddy-buddy if you slept on the couch,” Jake said nervously, “But I suppose there’s no harm in you sleeping in this big bed with me.”

Dirk started silently undressing.

“Um, you didn’t pack pajamas in your sylladex?” Jake asked, “I suppose you wouldn’t have.”

Jake knew he shouldn’t gawk at Dirk, since if their relationship turned successfully into friendship they probably shouldn’t have sex again, but it was hard to help it. Dirk was still such a good look man to him. Perhaps it would be less awkward if Jake stripped too? So Jake stripped off his bathrobe and his pajamas. Now they were both naked in front of each other. No, sadly this was still awkward. More awkward now, in fact.

“Huh, wow, both of us in our birthday suits!” Jake exclaimed.

“John Egbert’s birthday is tomorrow,” Dirk said.

“So it’s a good thing his good friend and boss Dirk won’t be dead tomorrow, huh?”

Dirk nodded.

Jake yawned theatrically. “Well, I’ve had a long day and I’m pooped! Going to go to bed now.”

He took off his glasses put them on the nightstand, and turned off the lamp. Then, he got in the king size five-star bed. Despite the size of the bed, Dirk managed to get in right beside him.

Dirk whispered to Jake, “I don’t think you molested your daughter.”

“Thank you,” replied Jake, “I admit, like you I worried about it if my child had turned out a son, one of your crazy fears like you fearing you’ll put poo-poo dust on all the town’s muffins, especially given that I was such a tempting muffin as a child, but luckily she turned out to be 100% girl.”

“100% girl,” Dirk said, though he thought of the gossip he’d heard of her facial hair and lack of periods.

“And I don’t really think you did the bad-touch to Davey boy, I was just angry at you and needed some fighting words, so we’re all even, right?”

“I still fear I molested Dave.”

“Huh. Oh.”

“He says I never molested him, but there are periods of time I can’t account for.”

“Um, but, well, there’s no proof, so it’s probably fine and you shouldn’t worry about it!”  

There was an uncomfortable silence between them. Neither of them tried to sleep through it. They just listened to the roar of the city that never sleeps at night.

“That Finnish chap I talked to today is so brave, we need more men like him behind the Iron Curtain,” Jake said, “But he has such a long name.”

“I love you, Jake,” said Dirk.

“Huh?”

“I will love you forever.”

Then Dirk kissed Jake. Jake felt he should push away but it felt too good and besides, like a French aristocrat he feared Madam Guillotine. Dirk’s hands moved down to stroke Jake’s cock. Despite it all, Jake felt himself getting hard quickly.

“Make love to me,” Dirk said.

“Um, hand stuff or butt stuff?” Jake asked, “Because the enemas and…”

“No enemas.”

“Really? Well, I’ve never struck oil in my life, at least not metaphorical oil, so we’ll be right as rain. But what about lubrication?”

Dirk uncaptchalogued some Vaseline.

“Ah,” Jake commented, “No pajamas but you do have Vaseline.”

“Keeps my lips moist.”

“True.”

They stared at each other’s eyes a long moment. Somewhere in the back of Jake’s head was the voice of his long-dead wife, telling him not to do this. Dirk had just confessed love to him, this would not be a meaningless romp for him. However, Jake was as hard as nails right now, harder than he had any right to be at his age. The voice in his head were drowned out by the twin memory of Dirk’s buttocks around Jake’s manhood and Dirk’s manhood in Jake’s buttocks. It was so rare Jake met someone who could give as well as he took. Jake reached out and touched Dirk’s impressive erection, an erection as hard as Jake’s. He could not resist.

“Let’s rassle,” Jake said. 

^[1] Not yet, at least.

^[2] Later June kills him.

Chapter Text

It seemed to Jake that Dirk took his command to rassle quite literally, since he somehow forced Jake into a position where Jake’s head was against the headboard and Dirk’s hard cock was at Jake’s mouth. Now, many people had wanted to shut Hass the Rock up with a dick in his mouth but sadly Jake was not very oral. He preferred to stroke men off to sucking their cocks and often when people sucked him he felt they were getting more out of it than him. As he tried to suck Dirk’s enormous erection, he understood why people did such a terrible job with his own endowment. He wondered why Dirk was trying this when their previous attempt at mutual oral failed.

“Ah, yes,” Dirk intoned, “this is my body, shed for you. Do this for the remembrance of me.”

Jake would ask why Dirk was saying such a weird, blasphemous, and pretentious thing during sex but Jake was silenced by the huge throbbing organ in his mouth. Meanwhile, Jake was flaccid at this point.

Eventually, Dirk stopped trying to face fuck Jake with his cock. He grabbed Jake’s face and started fucking him with a kiss. The kiss felt very possessive, full of canines and tongues. Jake felt his cock harden again. Dirk pulled back to let Jake breath as a string of spit went between them. 

“Did Alice ever kiss you like this?” Dirk asked, “Could she kiss you like a man?”

“I don’t know, it’s been twenty, twenty-two years or something, old man.”

Dirk pulled on Jake’s mustache. “Tell me: am I better at kissing than your dead wife?”

Jake didn’t want to answer that they were about the same, but Dirk noticed Jake’s erections and started tugging on it with his free hand.

“Your body is reacting like you love it more,” Dirk said, “I know you love me more than you loved her.”

“I don’t want to talk about that silly competitive babble, just shut up and put it in!”

Thankfully, Dirk knew to use lube before he did that, so he got some Vaseline out of his sylladex (having placed it in a very convenient spot) and started slathering it on his cock. Never before had he fucked someone in the ass without them first having an enema and he was scared but also too in-love and too horny to care. Serendipity would see them through.

Meanwhile, Jake was scared of Dirk’s aggressive behavior in bed. Jake was no longer the Daddy here. Dirk’s orange eyes in this low light seemed insane. It was like he was possessed.

Dirk lifted up Jake’s legs and penetrated him easily. He got into a pattern that wasn’t too rough, despite his earlier bravado. Jake found himself again enjoying the feeling off being filled with cock in the top percentile of size, with again the narcissistic bonus of it being the size of his own cock. Perhaps Jake could enjoy this rassle, despite the awkward situation. It wouldn’t be the first time he had sex in a strange moment. However, Dirk started talking.

“You know I love you.”

“Pardon me?” Jake asked like they were seated next to each other at a dinner and weren’t currently fucking.

“I have never loved a man like I love you. You are the most beautiful and most interesting man I have ever met and all I want to do it worship you. You are a bronze god to me, like a bronze statue of a god. I want to worship you with my hands, my mouth, my ass, my -” He groaned and pushed into Jake especially hard. “- my COCK. I don’t think I could physically make love to you enough. I want to be in a dimension where all I do is make love to you.”

Jake only responded, “Ummmm…”

Dirk started stroking Jake’s half-hard cock. “I know you feel the same way, deep inside. I can feel that you love me. Why don’t you admit it? Everything will feel better when you do. Why don’t you tell me you love me?”

“Mmmm hmmm…”

“I’m better at fucking you than Alice, right? She didn’t have this massive cock that could reach all the way up to your small intestines, right? You love me more than you could ever love your dead wife. After tonight, you’ll have a Bro tulpa in you.”

“Alice had her pluses and minuses…”

“You’re only angry at me because we love each other so much. We wouldn’t have fought that fiercely if you didn’t care.”

“Not sure that’s true, old man.”

“Come on, it’s true, just as you love taking my Strider cock.”

Dirk had never spoken that much during sex but now he wasn’t shutting up. Jake felt that old familiar feeling like ants under his skin, a million biting fire ants, when Dirk talked this way about him. His body felt conflicted between responding to this supreme rassling and wanting to go soft and retreat from this romantic talk. Jake almost felt like crying but shame kept his tears in.

Jake decided that perhaps Dirk would shut up if he had Teddy in his intestines. It was worth a shot.

“Um, Dirk, my turn,” Jake said, completely fumbling being manly and confident.

Dirk was enjoying topping but he did pull out. Jake became dominant enough to move Dirk into the doggy style position. He slathered the Vaseline on his own cock and penetrated Dirk. Instead of his villain’s romantic monologue, Dirk was only breathing heavily and moaning. Now things were quite enjoyable for Jake.

“Ah, yes, good boy,” said Jake, gently patting Dirk’s side.

It was then Dirk burst into tears. Not just tears, but gross mucus sobbing. The dam just burst for the radio funnyman and now the clown was crying. Crying was not one of Jake’s kinks and his erection in Dirk’s rectum was now approaching full softness.

“Should I pull out?” asked Jake.

“No! You will finished,” hissed Dirk.

Jake paused to think of the most erotic things he would, the weirdest fantasy that was far away from this torrid reality. His cock filled up with blood again, hardening in Dirk’s body, expanding in his cavity. Jake started pounding Dirk quickly, hoping to come soon.

Dirk however wasn’t having any problems feeling aroused and he soon went off like a firecracker, weeping the entire time. After that, he went into a fugue state as Jake kept trying to reach his own orgasm.

They silently went at this for awhile as Jake wished he would just come already. He wanted this to be over with. It had been a mistake agreeing to rassle with Dirk. Never again would it be the carefree pastime it was before. Dirk had serious emotions for Jake and every erotic action just cemented it for him. However, Jake was not one to end an erotic engagement early no matter how badly it was fairing, unless it involved white women that it. Dirk was going to receive his Hot Harley Load even if he did falsely take that as a love confession and not a bodily fluid.

Jake was almost totally disassociating when finally he came. Instead of roaring, he just shuddered and pulled out. It felt like he was one of those animals, those insects, that mate and lose a piece of themselves and die. He then laid down on the bed again and hoped to fall asleep. Dirk laid down beside him.

Dirk was exhausted from all his talking on top of the sex, but he had enough energy to ask one last thing.

“Am I a good man?”

Jake answered, “Yes you are. I am an extremely excellent judge of character.^[1]”

Dirk closed his eyes and almost instantly fell asleep, feeling actually satisfied for once in his life.

Jake did not sleep immediately. He was wondering if that could be called the Worst Sex of his Life. Normally, he felt that his experimental coupling with the Batterwitch was the Worst Sex in his Life, before he got to incidents that were just plain rape, and over the years as he learned more about her he felt it should remain The Worst to spite her and her wickedness. However, what he had just experienced could be described as the Second Worst Sex of his Life. Sure, Dirk’s warm asshole was more inviting than Condesce’s ice-cold nook but Dirk’s romantic attitude made the entire thing absolutely dreadful. He felt haunted by Dirk’s ghost, though the man was still alive. His heart was unsettled.

Still, it had been a long day and night, so Jake fell asleep.       

^[1] He was not.

Chapter Text

Jake dreamed of that South Side apartment again. It was not the fine manor home he now lived in at Hyde Park, but it was also not the dreadful kitchenettes with many Negro families sharing one dirty space. It was a comfortable middle class space that always featured plants. Alice’s favorite flower was tulips. Right now, however, Jake was in the dining room looking down at a flower arrangement that said in the language of flowers (and Alice) “you slept with your situationship in direct violation to my advice so now I will leave you for now, run your own damn business affairs”. The normally loquacious Jake looked at the crowded vase and said “oh fuck” softly. He then wandered the apartment hoping in vain to see her, but there were not that many places to look and he wasn’t going to search Dream Chicago. After that, he sat down on the couch in the living room. Who knew marriage could go so rough after death?

He woke up before Dirk, something Dirk might have noted as strange if he weren’t asleep. Jake knew he had to leave without saying good bye to Dirk. Not even a kiss on the cheek. He packed up everything in his sylladex and slipped out of the hotel. He wandered Manhattan, making his way up north towards the Bronx. When the Central Park Zoo opened, he was the first one there. He watched the animals and wished he could be a monkey, just swinging around the jungle, sleeping with anyone he wants, instead of a human with rules and responsibilities. Alas, he was human after all, even if he lacked certain human emotions Dirk claimed all humans had.

After the Zoo, he went north to Harlem. He found a Negro bar and ordered a gin-and-tonic and nursed it like it was the last canteen of water in the desert. At the bar was a rough Negro woman who was either 30 or 60 named Sonia that he struck up conversation with. She was beautiful for someone in a bar at 12:01 PM, and of course interested in him, and Jake was feeling insecure about his masculinity, so he let her take him a hotel that would let them pretend to be married. He was still sober enough to consider his reputation, but sleeping with this bar slut was less shameful than sleeping with Bro Strider.

Jake was rough and dominant with Sonia, which wasn’t his usual style with women. Usually he tried to be gentle and chivalrous. However, with this woman he was biting her breasts and slapping her ass. She enjoyed it immensely and Jake knew she’d have thrilling tales to tell her friends but he was greatly disturbed by his behavior. Did he really prove he was a Man or a dirty slur with an “oo” in the middle?

He left her sleeping body also, and spent the rest of the night in a twenty-four-hour movie theater. There were of course some homosexuals cruising there, but he ignored them to get lost in the cinema of rear projection lizards and spiders taking over the Earth.

Twenty-four hours wasted and it was time for him to take the train back to DC. He managed to check out of his hotel without running into Dirk. So he left the Big Apple with Dirk’s heart broken.

When he was back in DC, he contacted his secretary, Miss Azul. He felt comforted in the fact she was not attracted to him, though he wouldn’t know the term aroace. With her in his office, he ordered her to buy a pair of man-sized horse pajamas. He planned to send them to Dirk Strider in New York, New York with a note that said:

Here is this a parting gift worthy of two men. Now you can be as STRONG AS A HORSE!!! But please consider going into psychoanalysis.

Your old FRIEND,

Pa Harley

Miss Azul understood this better than Jake thought she did, and sent it off. And so Senator Jake "Hass the Rock" Harley, like a certain governor of Judea, thought he'd washed his hands of the matter.  

Chapter Text

On that same day that Jake absconded from Dirk’s side, Dirk gave chase. Dirk pretended to sleep as Jake packed up his belongings. When Jake left the hotel, Dirk followed at the distance. The Great Half-White Hunter was such easy prey. Dirk followed Jake through the Central Park zoo and when he went into the Negro dive bar Dirk waited across the street in disguise. He was shocked to find Jake going off with that barfly, yet he controlled his temper, only letting a brick wall know how he felt. When Jake got to the train station, Dirk was tempted to buy a train ticket to DC but he resisted that temptation. He wasn’t some insane stalker, after all. Instead, he went back to his apartment, got in the shower, and practiced a little self-abuse on his throbbing erection. Only once, though.

Some days later, Dirk Strider received Jake Harley’s package with the horsey pajamas and the infuriating note. “Go into psychoanalysis”? The Christian Scientist with all the neurosis was telling Dirk to go into psychoanalysis? Dirk Strider would die before he did that. Though Dirk was furious, he put on the pajamas and read a letter from Roxy that calmed him down, which had surprisingly come in the mail at the same time considering she was sending it from Normandy, France. She wrote it in a rather idiosyncratic French but he easily translated it into English.

Dear Dirk,

Wow, you have got some romantic problems. I thought I had romantic problems but yours take the cake. Now, I know this doesn’t mean much coming from me with my teeny tiny black hole crush on you, but Jakey is not your soulmate. The sex may be killer and you sound like pretty good “chums” as he would say but he ain’t looking for romance and you can’t force that. You also aren’t politically compatible. Jakey wishes FDR hadn’t meddle with his dragon horde of gold and you daydream about giving FDR an eternal youth potion so he could be God-Emperor forever. Your crush has the life of Scrooge McDuck with black feathers (we Europeans love the Disney ducks) but unfortunately he also has the politics of Scrooge McDuck. Duck is such a greasy meat.

 Believe me, when I was a crazy wee tot in Egypt, already the mistress-slash-house-boy of a pervert French professor, I thought I met my soulmate, Jean-Marc. He said he would take me to Montreal and we would have a dozen children and I’d never be a lonely orphan anymore stuck with an aunt and uncle who hate me. You know how that turned out. I was more lonely than ever, stuck in a house with a precious beautiful and intelligent daughter that hated my guts. After what I did to her, I wouldn’t blame her for cursing my name still. I probably have the Mummy’s Curse, hahaha. It’s just she was the only one in that country who really got me. Then my husband found out and divorced me and married his secretary, a better woman than I will ever be. I wanted to die but as Dorothy Parker wrote, you might as well live. 

I still haven’t met my soulmate. At best I’ve met another wealthy scientist, my good boy Jawed, but this one respects me and believes in aliens and my weird gender and only fucks me in the ass and mouth. That’s the best you can hope for. Jake’s soulmate isn’t Alice or you or me or Betty. I’m not your soulmate and you aren’t mine. Soulmates don’t exist. We come to this Earth as full souls and we meet some people we get along with better than others but nobody is our soulmate. We’re all in this alone.

So I’ve said my share. Not much going on in my end. The European scientific community still has a stick up their asses. Tabernacle, if only the Soviets hadn’t taken over Germany. Welp.

Love,

Roxy

Dirk took what Roxy wrote to heart. She was right. He should get over Jake Harley. In this moment he considered she might actually be a boy, considering women generally stopped talking with him at this point, but that was ridiculous. Still, she was definitely right about both Jake Harley and the aliens. She had also managed to move on from doing to her daughter what Dirk had always feared doing to his younger brother. Like Dorothy Parker said, you might as well live. None of the suicide methods were any good. 

With the letter read, he turned on the television and there was Colonel Sassacre.