Your Princess is in Another Castle (25 page)

Contra.  One of my
favorites on the NES has just been ruined.

“You never know who will get one,” says Seth.  “
That’s what Kurt Vonnegut said in Slaughterhouse-Five.  Chris is lucky though, to be armed with something like Grond down there.  My siege weapon isn’t even as impressive as that one orc blowing up the wall of Helm’s Deep with gunpowder.” 

“Hey,” I say, “as Tom Servo once told Mike Nelson, don’t compare yourself, it ain’t healthy.”

“I guess that’s what us folks armed with Sting should tell ourselves,” says Seth.

“Remember Tolkien’s words,” says Jimmy. 
“In the second chapter of The Fellowship of the Ring, we’re told that all we have to decide is what to do with the size that is given us.  Well, Tolkien said the time given us, but the principle is the same.  Besides, that flail the Witch-King had in the movie was so big it wasn’t even practical to use in combat.  Had the Witch-King gone to the Mordor blacksmith and requested a smaller flail that could actually be wielded properly as opposed to going huge solely for the intimidation factor, well, maybe then he’d have actually managed to slay Eowyn as opposed to being killed by her.”

“It’s alright,” says Seth.
  “I’ve got a tongue long enough to rival Venom’s.  So why’d Chris try and hide it from you, though?  At the pool, I mean.” 

“
Because Chris didn’t want a bunch of girls finding out about it,” says Jimmy.  “See, this was back in high school.  During our junior year Chris got his first real girlfriend, a girl named Melanie.  They were together for a long time, and were serious enough along that they’d talked about going to the same college together after graduation.  They’d even had a few discussions about getting married at some point in the future.  Melanie was also a very religious girl.  One of those types who didn’t believe in sex before marriage.  And Chris was okay with that.  He understood Melanie’s decision, because Chris has a spiritual side, too.  But it was hard for him. 

“
Now, Chris was aware of his enormous endowment and he told me that he often fantasized about using it to his advantage and hooking up with every girl in school.  Chris imagined becoming known as the Red Mage.  As in the Red Mage from the original Final Fantasy.  The guy with the red outfit, cane, and pimp hat.  The Red Mage dressed like a real mac daddy.  But the Red Mage also did everything.  He could fight with a sword effectively.  He could use white magic.  He could use black magic.  He did it all.  Just like how Chris wanted to hook up with every girl at school.  He wanted to do them all like the Red Mage did it all.

“But Chris didn’t.  He was entirely
devoted to Melanie.  He was going to wait for her to be his first.  That’s why Chris asked me to keep his size a secret.  He didn’t want to be tempted from straying from Melanie by another girl telling him she’d heard of his endowment.  But then right before graduation Chris caught Melanie in bed with some other guy.  It shattered his world.  His faith was shaken.  The old Chris who was willing to save himself for marriage would have never come to the Moonlite Bunny Ranch.  But that Chris died when he caught Melanie in bed with someone else.  It was a classic LLGS type trauma.”

“LLGS
type trauma?” asks Seth.   

“LLGS, it stands for
Like Losing Gwen Stacy,” says Jimmy.

“What was the guy’s name?” I ask.  “Th
e guy Melanie cheated on Chris with, I mean.”

“I don’t know,” says Jimmy.  “Why do you ask?”

“I was just wondering if Scott was the guy’s name,” I say.

The three of us are debating whether or not the White Mage of the original Final Fantasy was intended to be female when Chris returns to us.  He appears as if he’s been through hell but also wears a look of contentment, as if he’d finally slain his archenemy after a grueling duel.

“I hadn’t even taken off the condom yet when Delilah shoved me out of
bed and told me to get lost,” says Chris.  “And the whole time we’re doing it I’m trying to put my hands here and there and trying to get into this and that position but Delilah’s not letting me do anything.  She’s calling all the shots and is in total control like a sadistic dungeon master.  It was really hot except she absolutely refused to take off her boots for me.  Every time I tried to she just kicked my hands away.” 

“
What did her fee end up being?” asks Seth.

“Not that much since it was fifty percent off,” says Chris.  “But I’m gonna have to be eating ramen noodles for breakfast and lunch over the next week or so.” 
Chris tosses me his car keys.  “You’re going to have to drive us home.  I’ve got no energy left.  I’m just gonna lie in the backseat and take a breather.”

“So
I guess this is it then,” says Jimmy.  “Chris, I’ll see you again in a few weeks over Christmas break.  Oh, and guys, any advice on what I should tell my roommate?  When I left my dorm I said I’d be coming back with a PS3.”

“Tell him we got robbed by a
group of X-Box 360 fanboys,” I say.

“Tell him the truth,” says Seth.  “I don’t feel any shame about
this.  I’m rather proud to have been so easily swayed by the pleasures of the flesh.”

Jimmy shakes Seth’s hand. 
“Maybe I will.  Thank you for letting me join you on this adventure.  May there be triplets in your future.”

Seth smiles at that thought. 
“I envy the man who’s been with twenty-seven different Felicias.  But may you one day find your Maid Marian.” 

Jimmy
clasps my hand.  “Yours is a difficult destiny.  Already you have begun walking the path that will lead to the Dawnless Day.  But you must always remember that you can endure, and that the golden dawn will follow.”

“So it is written
in the Nemedian Chronicles,” I say.

Jimmy scoffs.  “If you
feel you simply must read fantasy authors other than Tolkien, then precursors like Robert E. Howard are acceptable alternatives, I suppose.”

Chris and Jimmy embrace.  “It was good to see
you again, Jimmy,” says Chris. “Over Christmas break maybe one of us will actually score a PS3 and we can play some Resistance together or something.” 

“Still not playing Halo?” asks Jimmy.

“Still not playing Halo,” says Chris.

“Well gentlemen, this has been quite an adventure,” says Jimmy.
  “But we must say farewell for now.  I will not say do not weep, for not all tears are an evil.  And if you fellows would be interested in adding an epilogue to this little tale, then come on out to California next summer for the San Diego Comic-Con.”

“I’ve always wanted to go to one of those,” I say.

“We’d have to cosplay,” says Chris.

“How about a light warriors theme from the first Final Fantasy?” asks Jimmy.

“I call the Red Mage,” says Chris.

“As long as I’m not the Black Mage
,” says Seth.  “He’s too Orko for me.”

I volunteer to be the Thief, and silently imagine how adorable Jessica would be as the White Mage.

Not holding back this time, I perform Scorpion’s toasty fatality on Chris’ Sub-Zero, the culmination of a narrow third round victory.  I’m about to put down the controller for Seth to claim but Chris demands a rematch before I can let go of it.

“And don’t be Scorpion
this time,” says Chris.  “Everybody’s always Scorpion.”

“You can’t compl
ain about someone being Scorpion when you’re Sub-Zero,” I say. “Besides, it’s Seth’s turn.”  Seth makes no move for the controller, studying intently the poster on Chris’ wall instead.

“Fine,” says Chris.  “We’ll both be lesser characters.”

“Such as?” I ask.

“I’ll be Stryker and you be Rain.”

“I wouldn’t say Rain is a lesser character,” I say.  “He’s got that lighting move and the double roundhouse kick.”

“Shut up,” says Chris.  “
Rain sucks.  He’s the lowest on the totem-pole of palette swapped ninjas.”

“What do you think
about Rain, Seth?” I ask.

“Sorry,
but Rain does suck,” says Seth, speaking not out of any interest in our conversation but rather via a reflexive dismissal of Rain.

“Why are you so hypnotized by that poster?” I ask.
  “You’ve seen it a dozen times before.”

The poster in question is of an
overhead shot of five nude women lying on their stomachs by a pool.  All athletic, all tan, all blonde, the focus of the poster is on their butts.

“Why not be hypnotized?” asks Chris.
  He abandons the game to join Seth in viewing the poster.  “Show me a better collective of hot asses out there.”

Seeing that our Stryker vs. Rain match will have to w
ait, I reluctantly join the guys as well.  “Those are nice asses,” I admit.                

“
I think you’re right, Chris,” says Seth.  “There may be no better hot ass collective out there.  Although there’s more to this poster than meets the eye, isn’t there? You didn’t really buy it for five hot asses, did you?”

“Alright, you got me,” says Chris.  “I bought this pos
ter not for five hot assess but for ten hot pairs of feet.”

I see what Chris means.  All of the girls
are on their stomachs with their feet dangling off the ends of their lounge chairs, giving the viewer a nice look at their soles and toes. 

“
The poster is a perfect example of security through obscurity,” says Chris.  “Back when no one knew about my foot fetish, I bought this poster to be able to enjoy it discreetly.  Any non-foot fetishist will naturally focus on the girls’ bare asses.  And why not?  They are nice asses.  The women are also completely nude, so no one is really going to think twice about the fact that they’re barefoot.  And them being at poolside where you’re also traditionally barefoot makes it all the more innocent.  The five asses are even in the center of the image while the soles and toes are at the bottom.  Unless you’re a foot fetishist yourself you won’t even notice the girls’ feet.  So it’s a foot fetish poster masquerading as an ass poster.

“
Such deceptive brilliance is known in the obscuration community as security through obscurity.  If I had a poster that was of five barefoot women and their soles were at the dead center of it, it’d immediately set off the foot fetish alarm.  I’d be getting no protection from a poster like that.  But with this poster I can enjoy my tastes discreetly with no one the wiser.  You only picked up on it Seth because you know me. 

“
In fact, I’ve come to believe that the architect of the poster has a foot fetish himself, because it’s just too perfect an image to have occurred by happenstance.  All the girls have exceptionally nice soles and toes, all five of them.  So I know that it was really made for guys like me.  After I bought it, I even went to the Wikifeet message board and posted about it, encouraging others to buy it as well.”                    

“Wikifeet?  There’s actually a wiki devoted solely for feet, pun intended?” I ask.

“Yeah,” says Chris.  “It functions as the aggregate collection of foot pictures and foot knowledge.  It’s a valuable resource for us.  Most of my own personal collection of pics comes from Wikifeet.  It’s quite handy, there’s even a search function that lets you search for specific people.  The singer Michelle Branch is my most recent acquisition for my omega position collection.  She’s got a nice pair.”

“Actually,” I say, “I wouldn’t mind
taking a look at that.  I like Michelle Branch.”

“What?” asks Seth.

“Look, Michelle’s cute and she has a nice voice, okay,” I say.   

“I suppose a man who’s a fan of Caroline in
the City would also rock out to Michelle Branch,” says Seth.

“What?” asks Chris.

“I used to watch that show,” I say.  “But so what if I did?  And so what if I like Michelle Branch?  I mean, you like Michelle Branch too, right Chris?”

“I
think Michelle has cute toes, man,” says Chris.  “I don’t actually listen to her music.  So what’s your favorite song of hers?”

“All You Wanted,” I say.  “
But look, have I ever hassled you for your foot fetish?”

“You’re right,
man, you’re right,” says Chris. 

“I don’t know which
of the two of you I find more disgusting,” says Seth.

“All joking aside, I appreciate your not makin
g an issue of it,” says Chris.  “That’s helped me to be more open about it.  I bought that poster back when I was in the closet.  I keep it around now because I like it, but nowadays I don’t hide my fetish anymore.  If things go well with Samantha Anderson when we have our date tonight, I’m not going to hide it from her, either.  Before or when we get to the intimacy stage I’m going to level with her.  I’m not gonna hide who I am.  Except in dire circumstances, like when my foot fetish caused my car accident last year.”

“What?” Se
th and I both ask.

“I had a car accident
last year.  I was driving on the highway back home during Thanksgiving break.  I was on my way to Jimmy’s, when all of a sudden this car coming down the opposite lane passes me.  College students in the car it looked like.  A girl in the front passenger seat was barefoot and had her feet propped up on the dashboard the way women sometimes do when they’re relaxing in a car.  She had nice feet, too.  Real nice.  For me it was basically the equivalent of seeing a woman sitting in the passenger seat topless.  So the car passed me and I followed it with my eyes because I didn’t want those bare soles gone and out of my life so quickly.  And since I wasn’t looking at the road I wound up rear-ending the car in front of me.

“
Luckily, the woman in the car wasn’t hurt and there wasn’t much damage to either vehicle.  I was relieved because it could have been so much worse.  The woman called the police and asked me why I hit her.  I froze.  I couldn’t tell her the truth.  I couldn’t tell her it was because I was admiring a girl’s feet. 

“
If I told her, she’d tell the cops.  Then, they’d write it in their report.  Next, the local press would get word and it’d be in my town paper.  Then, the Associated Press would pick it up and it’d go national.
Man Blames Foot Fetish for Auto Accident
the headlines would all say!  Suddenly I’d be the laughing stock of the entire nation and become fodder for every late night talk show host and stand-up comic. 

“
Well, no way.  I couldn’t be outed like that.  Not like that, guys.  I just couldn’t be outed like that.  Not to mention I’d permanently lose the ability to enjoy my fetish discreetly.  Any woman recognizing my face would know me from then on as the foot guy.  Upon my approach every pair of female feet would suddenly seek solace in socks like so many snails into their shells.  And all because of the truth behind what caused my accident.    

“So I apologized and told the woman
I’d been drinking.  I hadn’t, but that’s what I told her.  I did have some booze in the trunk though because Jimmy and I were going to get wasted playing The Lord of the Rings movie drinking game, where you take a shot every time there’s a horrid and pointless change from the books.  But you have to know your own limits when you play that game so you don’t die of alcohol poisoning.

“But anyway,
while the woman I hit was on the phone talking to her husband about the accident I popped open my trunk and started chugging vodka so I’d get arrested for DUI, all to escape being outed.  And that’s what happened.  I got arrested and had to have Jimmy bail me out.  I told him the truth when he came of course, because I knew he’d understand.  And he did.  He didn’t blame me.  So that’s why I have a criminal record.  I’m trying to be more open about my foot fetish now, but sometimes you just gotta hide it, ya know?”

“I’ve seen wome
n do that sometimes, prop up their bare feet on the dash,” I say.  “Or drape a foot out an open window.  I can imagine it’d be distracting for you on the road.”

“I don’t k
now that I’ve ever witnessed such a phenomenon,” says Seth.  “But maybe I just haven’t been paying attention.”

“I can show you an example of it,” says Chris.  “While
I can’t recommend the film as a whole, Jeepers Creepers begins with brother and sister protagonists driving in a car and the sister is doing the feet on the dashboard thing.  And the actress has attractive feet.  I’ve always felt that it was Gina Phillips’ personal choice to display her bare feet during scene, that it wasn’t specifically called for in the script because she knew had nice ones and she’s all about the fan service.  Would you guys care to watch the scene?”

“You have that on DVD
for just that one scene?” I ask.

“Let’s watch
,” says Seth.  “I’m curious now.”

Chris plays the scene for us, a four or five s
econd affair where we can enjoy seeing Gina Phillips resting her feet on the dash.  He then hits rewind on his remote followed by pause, presumably getting the best still image of Gina’s feet as possible. 

“That’s it?”
asks Seth.  “I was expecting an excessively grandiose scene like in Kill Bill where Tarantino felt we needed a thirty-second close up of Uma Thurman wiggling her big toe back into circulation.” 

“It’s brief,” says Chris.  “But it’s just like what ca
used my accident.  And you said you hadn’t seen it happen before.  Now you have.  And you can see how witnessing such an event would cause me to become so distracted from my driving.”

“I understand,” I say. 
“It’s such a fleeting glimpse you just have to have more. For me it’d be like if Fuko was at Mardi gras and had just flashed her breasts, but all I saw was her pulling her top back down.”

“Yeah,” says Chris.  “Except I doubt Fuko would ever be in
New Orleans for Mardi gras.  But maybe she’d be at the Tokyo equivalent.”

“She’s more likely to be at Mardi gras
than he is,” says Seth. 

I’m trying to formulate a defensive quip and coming up short when my phon
e vibrates. 

“It’s a text from Jessic
a,” I say.  “She says she broke up with Scott and wants to know what I’m doing tonight.”

“This is it
, then.  Time to make your move,” says Chris.  

“Yeah,” says Seth.  “You
’re still planning on going through with this, aren’t you?  Just a friendly reminder, you told Christine Dayspring that you would.  And you could have done her and you didn’t, so the least you can do is keep your promise to her.”

“
I will,” I say.  I send a text to Jessica asking her to meet me at my dorm when she gets off work tonight. 

“Good,” says Seth.
  “But you know, if this weren’t real life I’d say this situation is rather contrived, what with Jessica suddenly breaking up with her boyfriend so soon after Christine Dayspring gave you the gift of courage.” 

“Not at all,” I say.  “You can set your watch to their breakups.  They were due.”

“Contrived or not,” says Chris, “it’s final showdown time.”

“Just
be prepared to move on afterwards no matter what happens,” says Seth.  “You don’t want to become like those Japanese holdouts who kept on fighting World War II until the nineteen-seventies.”

“Yeah
, that’s right man,” says Chris.  “Remember that there’s still Sabrina if it doesn’t work out with Jessica.  Whatever you do, don’t get Faulked-up and become trapped in an A Rose for Emily type situation.  Or that Tanzra guy, for a real life example.”

“Tanzra was the villain from Actraiser,” I say.
  My phone vibrates with a text from Jessica saying that she’ll meet me at six.

“Oh yeah,” says Chris.  “
Tanzler was the guy.  Still, I don’t think either one of them could really be considered a positive role model.”

“I don’t know about you two,” says Seth, “
but I could have gone without the life imitates art anecdote about Carl Tanzler during our Rose for Emily class discussion.  That loony professor we had for that course was like having Dr. Jonathan Crane as an English teacher.”