The Anti Uber Uber Xena Story
by
The bard formerly beloved as sHaYcH
Disclaimer: Oh dear gods yes! I want all the blame to fall on the head of my poor, bewildered muse who just couldn’t keep her mouth shut anymore. Um, and Xena, Gabrielle etc. are property of someone else, not me. MCA/Universal USA and a host of others, I’m sure. But Not Me.
If you think I’m insane, or just silly, Razz the Writer: shaych3@yahoo.com
^^^
“I’m Brelle Gabren, of the New England Gabrens. I’ve got more money than God. I’m sexy, and cute, and pert. I’ve got great abs and my hair is longishly short.” The diminutive, yet perfectly proportioned young woman spun around and laughed impishly. “My longishly short hair is reddishly gold, which contrasts ever so nicely with my sea foam and forest green eyes. When I smile, I dimple, see?” She demonstrated that yes, she did indeed, dimple. “I’ve had lots and lots of women, they were all wonderful relationships, but just not the One. I’ve been with men, too, but they suck.”
“I’m Alexandra Smith, of no one. I’m an orphan, my parents were killed in a horrible accident and I was raised in the foster care system. I have a younger brother, but he died ten years ago of a drug overdose. They were my drugs. I was a little crack addict, but that’s all past now. I’m broke, but I’m clean. I work as a janitor at a local high school. No one recognizes my tremendous beauty because I hide my long, thick, dark blackish brown hair under baseball caps. My perfectly blue eyes are covered up by dark glasses and my scrumptious, mouth melting, virgin killing figure hides under a shapeless jumpsuit. I’m a virgin. I love the idea of sex, but I’ve never met anyone worth ‘giving it up’ for. I’m not quite as dumb as a box of hammers, but everyone treats me that way. I can’t sing, dance or fight my way out of a tin can. I can, however, mop a floor so well that it shines like a mirror!”
“I don’t play any sports. Sports are for people who like to sweat. The only time I like to sweat is while between the sheets!” Brelle declares hotly.
“Well, I love to play tiddly winks and pick up sticks. Such lovely games for fine motor control,” Alex wiggled her fingers dexterously. “But don’t even think about getting me near something like a golf course. Ugh. Golf is sooooooooooooooo booooooooooooooring,” she drawled while pulling a face. Which face no one knew, but Xandra pulled it hard.
Brelle, watching Alexandra’s fingers wiggle lasciviously, shifted around her chair uncomfortably. “Ooooo,” she breathed in a heated whisper.
Bright green orbs collided in midair with deep blue eyes and the mess they made was quite nasty, but afterwards, two soulmates found themselves wound tightly about one another on this dinky little couch. But there was plenty of room because these were soulmates and soulmates have the natural property of being able to fit together like Legos sprayed with Loc-tight gel.
Right about then several bunnies hopped into the room, noticed the uber couple entwined like creepers on a trellis and ran for the hills.
“Run!” One bunny squeaked to a new arrival. “Run for your life!”
But it was too late for our intrepid new arrival, as bits and pieces of hastily chewed and bitten off clothing sprayed the room. Not even forensic stringing would completely reveal the total power of Uber lust. Buttons, zippers and fragments of clothing littered the room as Alex and Brelle enacted a centuries old lust on each other’s nubile, flavorful, perfectly defined, sensitive bodies. Seventy trillion hours and sixty quadrillion quarts of the sports drink of your favorite basketball team’s choice later, Brelle looked up yawned and promptly fell asleep.
Xandra, however, was far from tired. In fact, she was so far from tired, she could have gone on until the sun was too pooped to pop and became a big old giant nasty black hole, but that was okay because now, Alexandra Smith was h u n g r y.
A great rolling growl echoed around the room, bouncing off the bodies of several dead rabbits, the tattered clothes and the too numerous to count empty bottles of sports drink.
“Must. Have. Food. Now,” Alex decided, jumping up and racing for the nearest grocery store.
Thirty minutes and half of her bank account later, she had eaten nearly everything edible in sight.
“Buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuurp. Tasty,” Alexandra rubbed her face and waddled back to the couch. A quick spray of Soulmate brand loc-tite glue bond and she and her perfect little snugglewuggums, Brelle, were once more entwined like creeper vines on a trellis.
Brelle woke up and decided that everything was just shitty. The room was a god-awful mess, she was hungry and horny and the lovey-dovey squeagy-weagy woman in the couch with her was fast asleep.
Giant alligator tears began flowing rivers down Brelle’s cute face, turning her gem-hued sea green eyes into floating orbs of misery. Soon, there was so much water flowing, that Alex had to wake up, or drown.
“Oh honeysweetiepienummykins, what ever is the matter?” Alex cried lovingly, taking the time to touch Brelle in all the right ways that made her lover cum in six seconds.
“Nothing now!” Brelle replied delightedly, returning the favor so well that Xandra was panting for breath instantly.
Suddenly, Alexandra fell off the couch, and hit her head on the coffee table with a sickening crunch! Six heavily armed men rushed in, beat the stuffing out of her, and then were well and truly thumped by the rising anger that was an Uber Xena enraged. When she was done, every bone in her body was broken, but she was still standing, bleeding from multitudes of cuts and bruises. The men were dead, though, a pile of so much blood and bone.
Brelle hadn’t stood by lightly, either. She had grabbed the nearest fireplace poker and started whapping bodies as they fell, making certain the dead would never rise to trouble her lover again. When she finished, she looked up into her beloved’s eyes, then began to cry buckets over her injured condition.
“We must call 911!” she hollered, reaching for the phone.
Alex collapsed on the couch. “No doctors,” she mumbled, wincing in pain as her bones, muscles and sinew hurriedly worked to miraculously heal. “I’ll be all right momentarily. Then we can hump like weasels.”
“I insist!” Brelle insisted, punching in the numbers. Soon a crack team of EMTs was at the door, bursting in to give Alexandra all the care a good Uber Xena deserved.
At the hospital, the doctors declared that Xandra would have to rest for a week. Alex punched the doctors, ripped the life-saving I.V.s from her arm and grabbed her lover. “Nonsense! I will do anything I want to because I’m invincible, and stupid!”
“Oh Alex, take me now, you bloody, gorgeous hunk of burning woman you!”
Fingers like lightning blazed across creamy thighs, leaving scorch marks in their wake.
“Oh, Alex. Touch me. Make me feel it, baby. I wanna go over the edge!” Brelle shrieked enthusiastically.
A marathon session of wet, slushy, grinding sex began, sending the ghosts of millions of bunnies screaming for yet a higher plane of existence. Slipping and sliding, gushing and floating, Brelle and Alex made each other have so many orgasms, that they spontaneously combusted.
FWOOM!
When the firemen came and put out the flames, two glowy spirits looked on, still entwined in a rapturous embrace.
“Oh baby, let’s do it again!” Brelle exclaimed lustily.
“You’re on, my sweet little piece of wonderfulness,” Alexandra cooed warmly.
With one blinding flash of light, the spirits vanished into the ether, to be born again someday.
Until that time, the world shall have to go on without the mystical soulmatedness of an Uber Xena and Uber Gabrielle.
Oh wait! What am I saying? An Uber Xena is born ever 3.376 seconds, followed very closely by her perfect partner, Uber Gabrielle. Never fear, my dear friends, though Alexandra and Brelle have gone on to the heavenly home for the horizontally inclined, someone will soon come along and sweep each other off their feet.
fin
11/16/02
Notes to the Giggling: This story is not intended in any way, shape, or form to be hurtful. I was just having a bit of fun playing with some of the genre’s more glaring clichés. My apologies to any who are offended.
Thump or Hump: Not a Sequel to the Anti-Uber, Uber Xena Story