fluterbev_fic: (Spinal Tap)
[personal profile] fluterbev_fic
Summary: Spinal Tap meets The Sentinel... sort of. Some would call this humor, others might compare it to Smell the Glove! Inspired by This is Spinal Tap.

Author's Note: Written for [livejournal.com profile] sentinelsecrets. The challenge was to take an album, and use every song title in the fic. This story manages it and then some (for lo, I had the movie on DVD as well). Song titles from the album are in bold, additional references from the movie (but not the album) are in bold and italics, and anagrams of Spinal Tap are underlined

Rating: Non-explicit. Just smutty talk.

So Married
by Fluterbev

June 2005

“…and once they got the hamster out, he had to have surgery to repair the... Jim? Are you *listening* to me?”


“You’ve been staring at that shelf for, like, ten minutes now. Come on, choose already! Let’s get out of this hell hole. I hate shopping in places like this.”

“I’m doing my best, here, Chief. You can’t rush this kind of decision. Buying equipment like this is serious business.”

“Jeez, man, just hurry it up already! Oh, hey, wait a minute, see that one? The one with the horn shaped handle? That reminds me of this place Naomi told me about. It’s a sex farm.”

“A what?”

“A sex farm, man. See, it was run by this guru she used to know. It was really wild. They had some amazing rituals, all based around this cult of a horned god. It really got people to shed their inhibitions. I was thinking, actually, of taking you there sometime…”

“No way! Forget it.”

“Hey, man, it’s just an idea. Broaden your horizons and all that.”

“A sex farm. Jeez, Chief, this is America! There are laws about stuff like that. I used to work vice, remember?”

“Hey, it’s okay, man, it’s cool. It’s near Stonehenge. You know, in Britain? It’s a really amazing place. On a convergence of ley-lines. It has a really powerful energy, according to Naomi. See, the pagan god they follow at the farm is one of the precursors of the modern concept of Satan. Naomi said it was like spending Christmas with the devil. Except that they called it Yule.”

“I swear, Sandburg, the contents of your brain never cease to scare me. You and Naomi - you’re like a couple of throwbacks to Woodstock. Listen to the flower people, huh, Chief?”

“What can I say? I’m just a rock and roll creation, man. It’s in my blood. So, how about it? You feel like giving it a try?”

“No, Sandburg, I don’t. Let’s change the subject. Focus – I’m trying to buy stuff here. What do you think of the one with the big bottom?”

“Shh! Not so loud! She’ll hear you!”

“I’m not talking about her - I’m talking about this. Get your mind out of the gutter!”

“Oh, right, I gotcha. Okay, yeah, this one looks good. Let’s go for it. Oh, and hey, let’s get those as well.”

“We going for the heavy duty ones again?”

“Yeah, man. They’re less likely to fall apart. You got ‘em? Good. I’ll go to the checkout. Gimme some money, will ya?”

“Why is it always *my* money? Christ, I’m such a pliant sap.”

“Come on, Jim. You do it because you love me, right?”

“I think I’ll take the fifth there, Chief… Ow! You been working out?”

“Don’t be such a wimp. Come on, Jim. Keep me company while I stand in line. And hey, let’s go to the music store after this - there’s a sale on rock and roll.”

“Rock and roll, huh? Come here, Chief. I want to whisper something in your ear.”

“Uh, yeah?”

“I’ll show you rock and roll, baby. Tonight. I’m gonna rock you tonight.”

“Oh, man! I love it when you talk dirty! You gonna lick my love pump, big guy?”

“Sure thing, cupcake. And ditto.”

“Man, when you start talking about cups and cakes, I know you mean business!”

“Eyes front, Chief. We’re up next.”

“I’ll show you *up*…”


“Okay, okay! Jeez, who knew that buying a new set of pans would bring out your animal side?”

“Wait till I get you home, Chief. A spilt pan will be the least of your problems.”

“I’m so scared, man – I’m gonna cry, cry, cry all the way home!”

The End (mercifully)

Comments are welcome, but absolutely not necessary - all of my stories are offered freely and without obligation. If you do wish to comment below please sign your name/pseudonym if you are not logged-in to Dreamwidth or Open ID, or alternatively you can email me at fluterbev@gmail.com

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