Earth, 2041.. J-Lo University.
Dr. Dizaster the Second looked up from behind his faux mahogany desk at the sound of someone knocking on his faux metal door.
"Enter" he said in his most clinical voice.
Cray Grant, the Easily Persuaded Lobster walked in, setting his knapsack on the ground.
"Ah, Cray, what can I do for you?" Doctor said in what he considered to be an avuncular tone, but really was his clinical voice again. People reading the story realised his actual first name was Doctor, and that Cray Grant's name wasn't very good at all. More keen eyed readers would spot Dr Dizaster as being a borrowed character from "The Impatient In-Patient", and even keener ones still that Nick hadn't actually asked the real life Dr Dizaster for permission to use his likeness in the story. Well, if you're reading this Dr, you can only punish what you can catch, what do you have to say to that, sucker? Huh? After this pointless and meagre act of literary belligerence, the story then continued.
"There's this girl I like.." Cray begun, and Doctor Dizaster the Second let out a deep sigh. Being retained by J-Lo University as Chief Medic and Guidance Councellor was one thing, but every guidance session somehow beginning with that phrase was another.
"Writing some poetry on the matter might be therapeudic" Doctor begun, knowing this seemingly good advice polluted the known Universe in every way imagineable, but he gave it all the same.
"It's not like that" Cray said, sadly shaking his head. "It's this girl in my Classical English class.."
"All the more reason to make sure you write some poetry on the matter" Doctor pressed, wondering whether a hook slice on the 4th at Paradise Golf Gardens might be sharp enough to cut past the lake but still avoid the rough.
"No, no, she's uh.. fictional" Cray said, and hung his head in shame.
"Oh my" Doctor said sympathetically. Now *this* was something else.
"It's uh.. we're studying classical literature, you know, Shakespeare, Orwell, n/k.. and it's in his "The Class Murder" I discovered her. Her name's Dani" the lobster continued, his antennae things wilting in the most romantic gesture a crustacean can make.
"I see" Doctor replied, perhaps a little too dismissively.
"You wouldn't believe her, though, Doctor. She's the ideal woman. She's intelligent, fiesty, not above me on the food chain and she carries a clipboard"
Doctor Dizaster II frowned. 'What is it with kids these days and clipboards?' his conscious asked. 'You don't wanna know' his subconscious replied, and left it at that.
"So.. what is it that.. draws you to this character.. in particular" Doctor asked, deciding rooting out the source of the problem would be for the best. Then he could use some psychoanalysis to transfer the characteristics onto some other girl, preferably a living, real one.
"I don't know how to say it" Cray begun, before saying exactly what it was. "It's.. I've studied the grunge period, I'm well aware of the rampant cynicism and slacker attitude that reigned in those times, especially as a side effect of the Baby Boomer generation controlling the cultural outlet of expression tha-"
"Okay, okay" interrupted Doctor. It somehow disturbed him the ease with which a student could dissect society on a whim, and yet they all went off to the mall like everyone else at the end of the day to browse through the latest in clipboards and bother men of science with monologues beginning with 'There's this girl I like..'. "So," he continued, "what is it.. precisely".
"Well, uh.. she wasn't like that at all, the slacker I mean. She was intelligent, had this real fire and passion, and she used it to try and make something of the world around her. Real inspiring. It was like, she was the only person who realised rebellion in those times meant giving a damn and keeping your room tidy"
"Yuh huh" Doctor said. Social commentary should have been time and a half for him, but it wasn't. Damn them. Damn them all.
"Anyway, the Dean forbids her to take all her dorm to the University Museum and-"
"Wait, wait" Doctor interrupted, "that doesn't sound right".
"We have the revised version, published post-humously after the author's death" Cray said, matter-of-factly. It all came flooding back to Doctor, the author's untimely death in the videogame arcade, shot in the back over a dispute of high scores. Most of all he remembered the sad headlines of the tragedy, "Credit 0". He also remembered no one actually cared, too, but that was another matter.
"So, what of it, anyway?" he asked the lobster. The fact Cray was of the 'easily persuaded' genus meant redirecting his lovelorn efforts to another more suitable target would be a walk in the park, at least. Finding out the reasons for his desire, however, was become frustrating, and he was wishing Cray would get to the point.
"Well, I think that one act of fiery defiance, taking her dorm to the University Museum itself and the fact she only did it out of a love for the dorm and University itself, a love never to be returned or acknowledged (much like mine, you might say)... I think that's the real incident that's won my heart, Doctor. The symbolism of her doing the best thing for BOTH the University and her friends despite their wishes, it's what I-"
"Yes, okay, hmm" Doctor interjected. "I think I can help you, Cray" he said hurriedly, hoping he wouldn't have anything else analysed in front of him any time soon. He was a Doctor alright, but clinical things still bothered him all the same. "Come back next Tuesday and we'll help you get over it. It's a thing called 'Janeanne Garofalo syndrome', which means basically every guy feels that way, but the best thing is to acknowledge it as never going to occur, get over the crush and on with our lives. We'll have you back in the saddle in no time, pardner".
Cray's expression lost its melancholic trait, which was fortunate because melancholic lobsters look pretty damn gloomy. "Oh, thanks Doctor! I knew you'd be able to help!" he exclaimed, scooped his knapsack up with a claw and scuttled out the door. After a dutiful pause, Doctor Dizaster the 2nd looked down at the pad in front of him and wrote his diagnosis of the client, before propping his feet on the desk, leaning back, and drifting off to the realms of Morpheus.
"Allure basis - rebellion tours".
// first posted 01-23-2002 02:14 PM PT