[DEFEAT. is Rendar Frankenstein’s truest attempt at fiction.   Presented in weekly episodes, the novella tells the tale of Daryl Millar – a hero who dies at the intersection of pop culture, science-fiction, war epic, and fantasy]

Daryl leaned forwards and Vanessa leaned backwards. The hero planted a kiss on his girl’s neck. There was enthusiasm only teens are capable of, a willingness to jump right into the thick of things without worrying about details. And that was for the best, too, ‘cause if Daryl started thinking about the particulars he’d have realized he had no clue as to what the fuck he was doing.

Or, more appropriately, how to do the fucking.

But that didn’t matter, because Daryl was a teenager. And as such, he was imbued with that special prowess of life that is lost when one allows bills and taxes and getting to the office on time and counting calories and changing the batteries in the smoke alarm to take precedence. When that happens life is no longer an experience but a goddamn calculation. Less of something to enjoy and more of something to figure out. Not a gift, but an expense.

Daryl and Vanessa didn’t concern themselves with such misdirecting thoughts. Instead, they went full-throttle into one another, grappling with a passion that could’ve been mistaken for violence had clothes not been removed. Neither had ever gone all the way before, but there was no doubt in either’s mind now.

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[DEFEAT. is Rendar Frankenstein’s truest attempt at fiction.   Presented in weekly episodes, the novella tells the tale of Daryl Millar – a hero who dies at the intersection of pop culture, science-fiction, war epic, and fantasy]

The car stopped just long enough for Daryl to explode out of its passenger door. As eager as he was to get into school with enough time to return 8-Bit’s copy of The Dark Knight Falls, Daryl’s mother was twice as eager to see Jane Pauley and Bryant Gumbel interview whoever. And so the Volvo screeched, peeling out just as Mrs. Millar’s foot told it to.

This provided the man in the gray trench coat the voyeuristic advantage that had eluded him the previous morning. The man got an unencumbered look at the accelerating teen. And since Daryl had no clue that he was being watched, the man in the trench coat afforded himself the luxury of peeking over the top of the sunglasses that barely rested on the tip of his nose. “Yes,” he muttered to himself in near-disbelief, “this is exactly right. It’s so surreal. No, no, that’s not it. Just real.”

From the trench coat a ratty spiral bound journal was removed by a slightly trembling hand. The spy, now seemingly aware that others may question his lurking, scribbled his notes quickly. Returning the journal to the safety of his oversized coat, he snuck behind the bushes and out of the scene.

At the same time, 8-Bit was admiring the graffiti and clever bits of vandalism adorning the inside of his locker.

Where’s the beef?
Charlotte gives good head
Led Zep rokks!

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Oh shiz! One of my favorite time killers between friends is to give Pepsibones and the programmer of this site, Senor Pedophilia a hard time when it comes to the Back to the Future sequels. Namely, I point out that they fucking suck. They recoil, and repel my aspersions. Time goes on. We chuckle. Hidden underneath that is the fact that I fucking love the original movie. A love I have to bury, lest it come into hurting my assholery.

But!, today burning up the internets is Back to the Future hotness. Michael J. Fox has recreated the Back To The Future trailer, shot-for-shot to promote the 2010 Scream Awards on Spike. God bless the nostalgia that will run down your spine, should you have been lucky enough to experience McFly back in the day.

Hit the jump for the nostalgic recreation, and the original for comparison.

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