Death by Whedon

joss-whedon_paleyfest09“Do it”, my Comic-Con buddies urged, “do it and verily your name shall be spoken with awe at science-fiction and comic conventions for years to come”.

But I wavered. If only then and there I had trusted my more sensible instincts.

“I’m not sure. I don’t think he’d like it.” I replied.

“He will” they said, “I’ll bet no-one has ever done it to him before. He’ll think it’s great. He might even write it into one of his shows.”

I marked my quarry. Joss Whedon sat upon a throne and drank Mountain Dew from a dainty goblet. On either side he was flanked by an ensemble of the actresses from his shows. Eliza Dushku was there, so was Morena Baccarin, Summer Glau and Charisma Carpenter, plus the other ones whom Joss kept around as ballast. Sarah Michelle Gellar wasn’t there, and everyone had been instructed not to mention her name. Why, no-one could say, though many speculated that it was because Gellar had once scissor-kicked Whedon through a garden gate for a bet, and Whedon, writhing sorely amidst a veritable killing field of broken garden gnomes, had failed to see the funny side.

As I stood and watched Whedon chortling light-heartedly and issuing forth epigrams in the Whedonese argot for which his programs are so rightly celebrated, I couldn’t see how he wouldn’t appreciate the stunt I was about to pull. “Hey man-friend, this Con is the peachiest in the ’verse” he exclaimed, and his complement of lady friends agreed.

Well, it’s now or never I thought. I ran over to where he was sat, lifted him from his throne as if he were a baby monkey and shouted, “Hey, throw this frakking toaster out of the airlock”. At that very moment it dawned on me that this was a catchphrase from Battlestar Galactica, which is famous chiefly for being a show that Whedon did not write. “How dare you mention that show in my presence, thou lowly nerd” he boomed. “Get him girls!”

Dushku wrestled me to the floor and Carpenter whipped out a West-Side-Story-style razor. “Stake him” shouted Glau. Simultaneously, Baccarin rescued Whedon and nestled him protectively midst her curls, in the manner of a maternal goose. There is little else to tell, other than to say I was stabbed and stamped upon to death by a host of buxom sci-fi women. It wasn’t the worst death I ever died.

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20 Responses to “Death by Whedon”

  1. oldrope Says:

    Firstly, we are verging dangerously close to territory mapped out in your last confessional pamphlet: “My Fantasies and Me – Baptiste’s Baptism of Ire”.

    Secondly, have you been watching Saved By The Bell: The YMCA Years again?

    Your oldest of etc etc

  2. jlebaptiste Says:

    I have, yes. The bit where Screech downed the dregs from a rusty can of special brew then blew his brains out all over the frayed and fading shower curtain of the Wigan YMCA was a seminal moment in television history.

  3. oldrope Says:

    Ironically, excellently named actor Dustin Diamond would sink to much lower deapths… check this shit out:

    http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dustin_Diamond

  4. oldrope Says:

    The story gets progressively worse, culminating in my fave entry, below. This is of course taken from that most reliable of sources, Wikipedia, however:

    Sex tape
    On November 13, 2006, Diamond’s sex tape Screeched, aka Saved by the Smell, was released by Red Light District. It features a bride-to-be, Summer Price, her bridesmaid, and Diamond all engaging in various sexual acts, including the infamous end which involved a Dirty Sanchez [17][18]. According to Diamond, the tape got out because he and some friends allegedly exchange such tapes and he believed that the tape was not leaked by any of those people, but instead the “significant other” of one of them.[19] There was skepticism of this claim, with critics alleging the tape’s release was likely a self-inflicted publicity stunt. Diamond’s manager acknowledged there was indeed hope that the tape would raise his client’s profile.[20] The tape also included a scene where Dustin ejaculated on a well cooked apple pie and asked the females in the room to “taste this cream pie”.

  5. oldrope Says:

    Actually, that’s all a bit crude. Feel free to remove the quote Le Bappy – though I did lift if from Wiki and not from my own mind.

  6. jlebaptiste Says:

    No, I think it serves as a cautionary tale to us all, and teaches us that in some cases death is the best thing that can happen to a person (Screech).

  7. oldrope Says:

    Screech is the best thing that can happen to Death. Who, as an intangible concept, cannot speak but would love to screaaaaaaaaaaam!

  8. jlebaptiste Says:

    No. I like the way I said it best.

  9. oldrope Says:

    I said it the way I like you best you said it no way! Best. Way. Ever.

    My friend Jack eats sugarlumps

  10. jlebaptiste Says:

    Yes. I agree.

    In many ways Dustin Diamond’s career and existence is a dirty sanchez on the upper lip of humanity.

  11. oldrope Says:

    Ouch!

  12. jlebaptiste Says:

    You betcha!

  13. oldrope Says:

    Either JleB is dead for good, for once, or he is unable to juggle the employment he is unaccustomed to with the skiving and semi-literate wanking with which he is overly familiar…

    Where for art thou?

  14. jlebaptiste Says:

    I’ve got writer’s block. That is to say Martin Amis dropped a gold-encrusted block of £500, 000 gorgonzola on my head, causing me to die.

    Or I’ve got my hands full working as a lifeguard on a nudist beach.

    Or I’ve broken my shoehorn, Mr Diggler, and have chosen to refrain from blogging for a few days as a mark of respect to Ol’ Diggler.

  15. oldrope Says:

    How many times must you be told? You are not a sanctioned lifeguard on that beach, indeed we have issued numerous cease and desist threats and, ultimately, a restraining order.

    If you want to feel people’s bits you’ll have to go back to your former career as a renegade Gynecologist.

    Now, are you still dead?

  16. jlebaptiste Says:

    If it wouldn’t have been for me, your bits and the bits of your shiny, shiny friends would have drowned long ago.

    Yes I’m still dead. I’m teaching Mortality Studies to a group of buck-toothed buckwheats shortly. “If you turn to page 3 of your handout, you will see that you have died”.

  17. oldrope Says:

    You have died
    Je Le B lied
    I have tried and tried
    to teach you to have pride

    Exeunt omnes

    Are the kids eating into your barin juice? Returneth to the dole where you can find true fulfilment recounting your many quick deaths rather than actually living the long slow mind-numbing death of wage labour

  18. jlebaptiste Says:

    There is much to be said for the dole, not least the raisins. But I became ineligible for it after I died, which was pretty discriminatory let me tell you.

    A Poem about Old Rope:

    A rope that’s old
    Covered with mould
    With many a wrinkly fold
    Should give you a rough idea of what his penis looks like.

  19. oldrope Says:

    Now that is not fair, I really must protest. It does not have the texture of old rope… perhaps a leaden pipe…

  20. jlebaptiste Says:

    Also, it has barnacles on it.

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