And I love bears!
So? When Blockade Boy told me he could set me up with an ursine acquaintance of his -- a former child actor in Bismollywood holo-films -- I "didn't think twice", as they say on Colu. I mean, we should have been a perfect match! Right?
The man's name is "Darzil Hek", and to be perfectly honest? I'd never heard of him before. But! He's been in a ton of classic holo-films! So I figured the gossip would be choice. Heh-heh. Shows what I knew!
Blockade Boy fancies himself my "dating adviser", since he has intimate knowledge of the space-bear mindset, and also he's a complete control freak. He said I should meet my dates at a "neutral location" and to never go home with them until I knew them better. Yeah, okay. I can "do it" in the trunk of a rocket-car, if need be. And I have. But? When I asked him if he knew any of Darzil Hek's favorite sexual positions, I was taken aback to hear him tell me, "Aw, HELLS, NAW. No sex for you, pally! Not on the first date!" (Madness! Am I right, people?) And then Blockade Boy told me that my problem is that I'm too fucking-eager, and that I need to "build a relationship" (or some crap) with my dates before I give myself over to them physically. He stressed the fact that if I had sex with Darzil right away, it would destroy our chances for romance. At least, I think he said that. I kind-of had stopped listening at that point. Besides, he's the biggest man-whore I know! Own it, ya phony holyman!
Oh, and Blockade Boy also made me promise to text him on my Omnicom at several pre-arranged times during the date itself. Yeah, that was never going to happen.
So anyway? I met Darzil Hek at this Bismollian restaurant -- not one of those cheesey chains, like "Bismol MacMattercuddy's", but an honest-to-the-Luck-Lords family-run rustic pub. And? Darzil was hot: a tall and brawny fifty-something guy with a big silver beard and a pelt to match -- not to mention a firm, beach-ball-sized gut (bonus!) that made me salivate, and also produce some other secretions. Oh, I just wanted to fondle him for days! We spent about fifteen minutes just complimenting each other, and saying different things that we wanted to do to each other, and sure, all the other patrons in that tiny lobby were giving us the stink-eye, and clamping their hands over their kids' ears, but so what. I'd found myself a "love connection"!
Well, let me tell you: Darzil Hek can really put away the inedible food. He must have downed at least four boron fajitas and maybe twice as many pleather-and-aluminum roulades. As for myself, well, I'm from Earth, so the only thing on the menu I could digest? Was the filet-o-cardboard. (In a charming irony, the take-out boxes are also made of cardboard.) No problem. I was getting a kick just out of watching Darzil eat!
Darzil explained that he met Blockade Boy through Dylbyrt Staad, Blockade Boy's uncle. He said that Blockade Boy was a "sweet kid" and "very accommodating." (Heh-heh.) Around 9 PM, I got a text from Blockade Boy, demanding to know why I wasn't texting him. I texted him back to cram it. Darzil offered to show me his home-theater set-up, back at his swingin' bachelor pod. Naturally, I agreed!
Darzil had a whole bunch of old holo-films in his library. And he had appeared in every one of them! He let me pick a couple for us to watch, so I went with two of my favorites: "Meet Me In Smallville" (starring the incomparable Judzil Gar and adorable little Margzil O'Brizil) and "Leave Her to Shanghalla" (starring the frostily-beautiful Genezil Tern and the boringly bland Cornzil Wyl). I was psyched. Darzil promised to give me a live "commentary track"!
And? That's how things went all screwy. (And not in a good way.) See, it turns out that Darzil is deeply bitter about his time in Bismollywood! Maybe it's because he was more of a journeyman character actor than an actual star? Or maybe he's just a resentful jerk-off? The universe may never know. But anyway, we were sitting on that big comfy love-seat of his, watching "Meet Me in Smallville", and we were kind-of snuggling, but Darzil kept fidgeting and working himself into a bitter froth as he told his "insider stories"... all of which had to do with some petty injustice he'd endured at the hands of a director or a makeup artist... or a caterer! Oh, Luck Lordy, the freaking caterers! Every time Margzil O'Brizil would flounce into a scene, Darzil would go off on a tear about what she got to eat, compared to what he was given to eat. Like, one day Margzil was given an entire hover-bike engine for lunch, while Darzil (like all the other supporting actors) only got a bowl of assorted lock-washers. Oh, he was railing at the heavens over that one. Have I mentioned that this happened over forty years ago? And he's still rabidly angry about it? I was like, "Bitch, you better step that shit back a couple of light-years!" (Only I didn't say it out loud.)
But it was Darzil's commentary on "Leave Her to Shanghalla" where he really "went squirrelly", as they say on H'lven.
The nanosecond Genezil Tern showed her face, Darzil just laid into her. He jabbed a furry digit at the flickering image of Genezil, and he said, "See? See what she's doing there? That's called indicating."
I asked him if that was a good thing, because what the hell did I know? I mean, when it comes to the world of actors, "I know just enough to be dangerous", as they say on Rimbor.
And Darzil said that "indicating" was not good; it's when an actor does like a pantomime facial thing of showing what their character feels, instead of really "feeling it" and somehow radiating it outward from their very souls, like the "process" school of acting teaches.
Well, I couldn't hold my tongue anymore (and not in a good way), because I finally started talking back to him. I pointed out that the "process" school of acting wasn't conceived until maybe ten years after the holo-filming of "Leave Her to Shanghalla." Which meant? Darzil was excoriating that poor woman for not adopting an acting style that hadn't been invented yet.
From there, it just got worse. Darzil ripped Genezil Tern a new one, left, right, and sideways. It was so annoying, you guys! Such negativity! And me, I'm all about the positive energy. Am I right guys? ...Guys? Aw, suck one.
Anyway -- to be honest -- I'd always thought Genezil Tern was the epitome of Old Bismollywood glamour, so I felt kind-of obligated to defend her. Finally? I asked Darzil, point-blank, just why he had a problem with her. You know what his reason was? She wasn't friendly to him. That was it. He said she was "very cold" to him. And I said, "Well, she wasn't a very happy person, if I remember right. I mean, she was institutionalized around that time, plus? She had that miscarriage. She had a pretty rough life, is all. I mean, I'm sorry the two of you weren't 'best pals' or what-the-hell-ever, but shouldn't you be over this by now? For realsies! It's fucking lame."
Well, Darzil got all sulky, like the overgrown kid he is, and he reeled off some spiel about how many wheels of space-cheddah he'd paid out to Titanian psycho-mechanics, to help him get over his Post-Traumatic Child Actor Disorder. Oh, and also about how I was a "jerk" and how he never wanted to see me again, like ever.
And we both slumped back in the love-seat, and watched the holo-film, without saying anything. On the holo-platform, dramatic music swelled from hidden speakers, and Genezil Tern's character threw herself down an escalator.
And I looked over at Darzil's ruddy, handsome face, with those hurt-filled eyes of his. And I tenderly took his hand, and I said, warmly, "So, do you wanna screw, or what?"
As Darzil manhandled me onto my stomach and yanked my trousers off, I texted Blockade Boy one last time:
wtf darzil big whiny baby going 2 pull trigger on this 1 stfu