Wednesday, August 5, 2015

Frank Dieselwang Vs. Dr. Knotty - Part 1

Source: Tied up in Knots by Mary Anne Enriquez
Frank Dieselwang’s 18-pack glistened with sweat due the sweat causing weather in the hot heat of the sun. He was fit, to be tied. Because he was fit, and tied. His scrumptious form of man meat was most peculiarly specimentastic because he could not be constrained, yet there is a certain convoluted conflict presented in this story because he was in fact constrained, because of the bonds tied around that hot, muscular body of his.

The other parts of his body glistened as well, for the sake of consistency.

“You’ll never get away with this, Doctor Naughty!” said Frank Dieselwang to his captor.

“It’s Dr. Knotty, you fool!” screeched Dr. Knotty, who somehow was able to tell that Frank was punning his name with a homophone of his chosen nomenclature.

Dr. Knotty whipped his whip in a whip-like manner, menacing Frank Dieselwang with it. “You are going to get it in an extremely convoluted manner. Dr. Knotty paused for dramatic effect, because that is important for pacing. “And by ‘it,’ I mean death.” Dr. Knotty cackled with glee and whipped his whip some more for emphasis, with possibly phallic connotations depending on who is critiquing this piece of fiction, and how much research they have done on the author’s life, if they are trying to do it from a New Critical or historical frame of mind.

Frank flexed his pectorals, abs, triceps, quadriceps, and quinticeps in a sudden rage and explosive display of power because the author felt the need to move the plot along.
Causing the bonds to snap! Exclamation points for empha!s!s!!!


Wait no, that’s a bit too sudden. They almost snapped, but just barely didn’t snap because of the need for dramatic pause and suspense, as well as the author realizing there was a trope to be overturned here.

With a strong and womanly cry, Regina Fortisovum, burst through the window that is inexplicably not reinforced given Dr. Knotty’s usual overpreparation and penchant for security, and yelled. “Did someone ask for a rescue that is for once not a damsel in distress? Seriously, that gets old, dudes.”

With that she threw with expert precision a razor sharp makeup compact (that betrayed the author’s poorly thought out attempt to be inclusive and show women can be strong but still relied on female oriented knickknacks and imagery) into the last few threads of rope that barely contained Frank’s condition of being tied up.

Suddenly freed from their confinement, Frank’s hard nipples announced their presence with a hard thumbs up, which is a metaphor for how hard his nipples were in that they were erect, kind of like thumbs.

His pectorals started to sway up and down for really no reason other than the titillation of the reader if the reader is into that sort of things, and then he flexed, the cuts of his muscles and abdominals which were so defined they could apply for an unpaid internship at the Oxford English Dictionary factory.

Suddenly beset by the two heroes, Dr. Knotty unleashed the Bondageagogo, his rope golem!

Bondageagogo, which has no relationship to and is definitely not a direct reference to the show that takes place at the Kat Club in San Francisco on Wednesdays (that’s 1190 Folsom if you were curious), stirred himself to attention, the many ropes that comprised its appendages that totally obeyed the laws of physics and basic engineering principles advanced upon Frank Dieselwang and Regina in what would surely lead to a pitched battle that the heroes would only barely overcome through derring-do and a clever plot twist….