Tuesday, June 16, 2015

Guest Puppy Bites Back

I have apparently inspired fan fiction.  Yes, it will go into the Sad Puppies tag above.

This is either the best fan fic ever, or terrifying beyond belief. :)

This is from Catholic Writer Guild colleague Dawn Wtizke.

The only changes I've made to the SWATting is to make it match the format of previous SWATs. The WorldCon part was only modded for consistency with the other parts...and I added one line.

[SWAT, all two of them, is stationed in front of the apartment door, battering ram at the ready]

“Excuse me.”

[DW approaches] “Can I help you?”

[SWAT #1] “Ma’am, you can’t go in there. We have reports that someone inside is waiving a gun around and threatening to kill people.”

[DW] “Seriously? Get out of my way.”

[The officer, who is at least a foot taller, puffs out his chest, blocking the way]

[DW] "Don’t make me tell you twice. The Hugo Awards are today and I’m damn well not going to miss it. Now get out of my way.”

[SWAT #2 pouts] “But, this is our first call in ten years. Can’t you just let us take a look?”

[DW sighs, rolls her eyes] “Fine. You can look, but you’re not breaking my door in.”

[Opens door. A pile of rifles is stacked haphazardly on a yoga mat. Cleaning supplies scattered next to them.]

[SWAT #1] “Gun!”

[DW glares] “Was that really necessary?”

[SWAT #2 hangs his head] “Sorry. I always wanted to say that.”

[DW] “So, look around.”

[SWAT #1] “Damn. Nothing.”

[DW] “Sorry I couldn’t be the crazy psycho you were hoping for. Are we done?”

[SWAT #2] “We’re done. Sorry to bother you ma’am.”

[SWAT leaves.  DW goes to bookcase and swings it away from the wall, revealing a collection of weapons. She picks up several curved blades and a roll of duct tape.] I’ll need this tonight.

The Queen of Hearts Goes To Worldcon

I tugged on my white thigh-high leather boots with the silver spiked heels. “Hmm...too much? Nah.” I said to myself. They looked good with the light pink high-low dress and white leather corset. I pinned my hat in place and checked my appearance in the rearview mirror. Perfect.

I walked around the tank parked in the middle of the street. The Puppies must have arrived. I picked my way through the trail of weapons and debris that littered the ground outside. A cute little pistol laid at the edge a pile of fish. I tucked it into the top of my boot.

“Get off me!” I looked down to see John Scalzi a broken mess on the sidewalk. “Get off me you heinous bi--” The words died on his lips as I pierced his tongue with my spiked heel.

“That is not very nice.” I pulled my boot free. Goo oozed from the end of the heel. “Now look what you did. You got Scalzi all over my boots. These better not be ruined.” The guard at the door handed me a tissue and I repolished the spike until it glistened.

“You are such a dear.” The guard grinned as he held the door for me.

It was like a ghost town inside. Small pockets of people were scattered throughout the hall. I spied a grinning Declan Finn at the center of a group of young women and Matthew Bowman was barely visible over the pile of Legos that took up an entire corner of the room.

I did a once around the venders, then made my way to the bar and quickly went through my first margarita. “This con blows.” I said to no one in particular. I snagged a stray Hugo ballot from a nearby table and looked it over. Who makes up these titles? Seriously? Ancillary Sword? Sounds more like gay porn than sci-fi. I tossed the ballot and downed another margarita.

“Misogynists! Racists! Homophobes! VOOOOOXXXXX DAAAAAYYYYY.” A creepy old guy, Gerrold I suspected, sat down next to me. He stares at me. “Are you one them?”

“One of whom?” I asked. I was on my third margarita at this point and was feeling feisty.

“Those puppies.” He was hunched over and breathing heavy. He looked like he was about to have a stroke.

“Sorry. I’m not. I’m mainly just a romance writer.”

As if burned by the sun, he slunk away. “Nooooooooooo! Nooooooo!” A chorus of howls filled the hall.

“Oh, thank God. I thought he’d never leave.” The International Lord of Hate walked in. Gerrold hissed at him as he passed. Correia and a small band of the Sad Puppies sat down at a table a few feet away.

“He looked like his tail was on fire.” Hoyt said. “What’d you say to him?”

I shrugged. “I just said that I wasn’t part of the Sad Puppies.”

“Come on, there had to be more than that.” Torgerson said.

“I’m a romance writer?”

Laughter broke out at the table.

“I don’t see what’s so funny about that. Romance sells nearly 3 times science fiction and fantasy.”

Correia fell out of his chair. I thought about shooting him with his own pistol, but was interrupted by five men wearing security shirts. Gerrold hid behind them.

“Ma’am. You need to leave.”

“Well, hello handsome.” I studied the tall dark skinned guard. His shirt stretched across his broad chest and the sleeves cut into his biceps. I resisted the urge to run my hands over him. He’d be perfect for my next book.

“It’s been reported that you’re offending people.” His voice was warm and smooth. Fragments of scenes flashed through my mind. I wondered how long I could keep him talking?

“And?” I ran my tongue over my lips. “Would you like to help me research my next book?”

“YOU’RE KIND AREN’T WELCOME HERE!” Gerrold interrupted.

“My kind?”

“Oh, leave her alone, Gerrold.” Torgerson said.

“Isn’t that Vox over there?” Ringo said pointing toward the convention hall. He continued typing with his other hand.

“Silllleeeence!” Gerrold screeched. “Her kind could infect Worldcon and we could end up with romance titles taking over the Hugo’s. Do you know how many romance readers there are? BILLIONS!.” He began walking in circles muttering. “Nora Roberts alone writes three science fiction books a year as JD Robb! Her fans are legion! We wouldn’t be able to stop them. They’d multiply and multiply until they took over everything. They’d ruin the Hugos.”

Howls erupted through the building again. It was like the Puppy haters were psychically linked.

Patrick and Teresa Neilsen Hayden appeared out of nowhere.

“What is going on over here?” Teresa asked the guard.

”We’ve gotten complaints that this woman has been offending people. She is refusing to leave.”

“Is she one of those awful puppies?” Patrick said.


“Well, who cares? Round them all up and get rid of them.” Teresa flung her arm around as if she were cleaning cobwebs out of a corner.

“Good call, dear. We don’t need someone dressed up like she belongs at an RWA convention destroying the diversity we’ve worked so hard create.” He looked down his nose at me.

I stood, teetering just a bit, shouldn’t have had that fourth margarita. I got uncomfortably close to Patrick. I ran a pristinely polished nail down his chest. He stiffened. I smiled up at him. He swallowed. “Honey” I laid my hand flat on his chest and slowly moved it upward. He squirmed under my touch. I entwined my fingers in his hair and pulled his head down so my lips were pressed closed to his ear. “Kick me out and I will spend every waking minute working to drown the Hugo’s in romance nominations. Do you really think the crap you promote could compete?” I kissed him on the cheek.

Teresa grabbed my wrist and pulled me away from her husband. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Thits ther.” Scalzi was holding his pierced tongue. “Thee sthabbed my thung. The bith.”

“Get her out of here. Drag her if you have to.” Teresa commanded.

“NO!” Patrick’s voice was filled with panic. “Let her go.”

“What the fuck, Patrick?” Teresa glared at her husband. He whispered something to her. Their eyes darted back and forth between me and each other as they argued.

“Leave her.” Teresa said, not at all happy about it.

“But wat abot my tong?”

“Oh put it in your mouth and shut up already.” Teresa glared daggers at me.

She stayed back as the guards left and the small crowd that was gathered dispersed.

“This isn’t over.” She said in a low voice.

I just smiled. No it’s not.

“Hey! Handsome!” I yelled across the room to the guard. I ran up to him and tucked my arm into his. “Now about that research for my next book. I have some new toys I want to try out. Are you up for it?”

“I’m up for anything.” He said.

“Good.” I leaned in close. I wonder if I should tell him that my next book is horror? Nah.

Declan Finn Note
This was worth it for the punchline alone.


I hate to break it to you, but the rest of this post has been moved to a different location. Where, you might ask?

Here: To the Collected SAD PUPPIES BITE BACKin Paperback and Kindle.

1 comment:

  1. Oh GIGGLES. The reaction to the romance writer part is utterly perfect!


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