Hi everyone! *waves*

I've been reading the comic since 2001 in the college dorm. Gyah, I feel so old now. Okay, so my reason for posting this: I had to write a super-short fanfic. But I couldn't find where to post it or send it.

I hope I'm not stepping on any copyright toes here (if so, go ahead and delete it, I won't be offended).

Sluggy Freelance Fanfic: the Bacon Donut

By D. Dalton

Based on a true story.
Not actual events of a true story, but the author really saw a bacon donut for sale.

Zoe bumped open the apartment door with her hip. The sunlight reflected brightly off her smile as she shook a small a paper bag. “I brought donuts!”
Gwynn and Torg didn’t even glance away from the TV. The controllers in their hands clicked rapidly as they smashed the buttons.
Zoe sagged. “Fashion Rancher again.” She lowered the bag. “Where’s everyone else?”
Torg replied, eyes still locked on the screen, “Kiki’s napping. We didn’t ask where Bun-Bun was going, and Riff...” Both he and Gwynn shrugged.
The bag rustled as Zoe retrieved a donut. “Gwynn, I got you a bearclaw.”
“Thanks,” she replied, still mashing buttons.
“And Torg,” Zoe continued, “I got you a bacon donut.”
He blinked. He straightened up from his gaming hunch. Finally, he turned his head.
“Hey!” Gwynn barked. “You can’t just hit pause in the middle of a swimsuit-wrestling catwalk-fight!”
Torg snatched the pastry from Zoe and studied it an inch from his nose. It was a long john with strips of crispy bacon glued into its caramel frosting. Both the icing and the bacon glistened in the sunlight. He inhaled its bouquet.
“Behold perfection!” He thrust it aloft.
And forgot to keep ahold it. The bacon donut arced through the air.
Gwynn barely ducked. “Hey!”
And the precious pastry was lost behind the couch.
“No!” Torg bounded across the room. “Five second rule! Five second rule!”
Zoe folded her arms and cocked an eyebrow. Gwynn stifled a snigger as Torg strained to stretch his arm far enough.
“I got it! I got it!” He yanked the bacon donut free from the ever-present darkness of the couch shadow. “Success!”
“Uh,” Gwynn said, “That didn’t come with chocolate frosting.”
“Kiki!” Zoe exclaimed.
Torg hung his head, still holding the donut high. He sniffled. “You were too perfect for this world. You shall live in memory as perfection. As inspiring as the Mona Lisa’s smile! As man’s journey to the moon!”
He marched toward the kitchen.
“What are you doing?” Zoe called.
He stopped and cast a soulful look over his shoulder, “I’m going to achieve perfection.” He turned around and stepped into the kitchen.
Immediately, he turned on the fryer. He pulled the uncooked bacon from the fridge and all the pastry makings from the cupboards.
He paused. Why stop with just a donut and bacon? This was for perfection!
***
Zoe shifted her weight on the couch cushion. “Do you think he’s coming back anytime soon?”
Gwynn shrugged, licking her fingers free of icing. “Do you think those smells are natural?”
Finally, Torg staggered into the living room, holding some sort of rolled monstrosity in is hands. “I have created.”
The girls bunched together. “Created what?” Zoe quavered.
He grinned. “An egg, donut, bacon, salsa, orange slices, maple syrup and jalapeño poppers all rolled up in a pancake and fried! The perfect breakfast!” His smile was electric and he proffered the culinary marvel. “Who wants to try it?”
Nobody moved. After a moment, Gwynn finally chuckled and pointed back at him. “I dare you to eat it.”
Torg lowered it to his mouth and hesitated. His eyes swiveled around the room; sweat started to gently prickle on his forehead. “Um. Make sure my emergency pants are ready in half an hour.”


The brief story behind the story: I was buying donuts for work the other morning when I saw the beast. I tried to snapshot it, but it was so otherworldly that it caused my phone to lockup. Or maybe my phone just froze at an inconvenient time. But, with this knowledge of the bacon donut’s existence, I had to do something with it. So I wrote this story. Whew, now the monster is out of my mind (and into yours).

Thanks, D. Dalton from All Things Impossible

Glares at nonnegabor's enthusiastic waving.... Stop that! It attracts the demonic were-seagulls. Which then scares off the vampire pelicans. That in turn lets the...you know what, never mind. Just you know, season and resist...or whatever you are supposed to do, or not do.

As for the fanfic...it is fanfic so I don't see a problem. Pete would probably be amused by it even. Doubt he would kill you in your sleep over it.

He has gnomes for that.

Anyway, at this point I would usually tell newcomers about the arcane tradition here, but I have to say this story fulfills it well enough. I'll seee if I can find a perfectly safe gift for you in Dimensional Storage...

...time passes...

Hey, found a wonderful gift. Its a mobile Cook-A-Bot 4152. It can deep-fry, saute, boil, chop, microwave, DB disposal, blend, julienne, grill, refrigerate, enslave, barbeque, and many more than can be counted. And it is powered by leftovers and light.

Not sure exactly why it was recalled and the manufacture's planet went quiet after that. Something about its definition of 'leftover'. I wouldn't worry.


I should add about your story. Not many people are going to see it here unfortunately. But you could put it in Sluggy Related Chat for more people to see it. But unfortanately Pete only looks at the Reactions forum, nothing else. If you want to have Pete see it, you could send it to website at sluggy dot com, or you could try to PM Pete. But PMing is not guaranteed.

Hi and welcome to the forums.

I see an equivalent of poetry and you've already been gifted with a Cook-A-Bot 4152 ...

... A Cook-A-Bot 4152!

okI'mjustgoingtoleavenowgoodbye.

Vampire pelicans! Blast, I really thought the flying monkeys took care of them. Now we have vampire pelicans AND flying monkeys. This is worse than kudzu in the South!

Thanks for the advice!

Well. the flying monkey population it fairly low now. It has been severely decimated ever since the cyber wyvern started nesting on the roof. They just broil those monkeys out of the sky.

Though having a larger vampire pelican flock around, does keep the plague like blue eyed vomitchucker frogs population down to more manageable levels. But they do leave bloodless and eyeless carcases laying around.

This looks like a!

Ah-hem. This looks like a MESS. That wyvern poop gets stuck to my boots. Where are my cybertronic bots with the vaporization rays? I ordered them two months ago!

Were those projectile vomitchucker frogs or just the regular ones?

The good news is that broiled flying monkey tastes great!

Fortunately the vomitchuckers are the regular ones.

Steave, if you say so. It doesn't sound that great.

Now if it was marinated in some ghost pepper methanol arsenic, and then broiled by a fusion flame for 7 seconds on each side, then seasoned with a light dusting of lead and cadmium shavings. That might make it taste a bit better. Actually, that does sound pretty good right now...

Now, do we try to make our bacon out of broiled flying monkey and then slap it on a donut or just buy some donuts?