The Worst Idea I’ve Ever Had

Over the last few months I have been unable to get this idea out of my head. It is, unequivocally, the worst idea I have ever had. Hopefully by summarizing it here I will be able to get it out of me. And then never think of it again.

I think of it as a screenplay. Whatever, however: here is the story.

We open in a bar. It is dirty and dismal. The people are sullen, their clothing torn, their eyes hollow. In the back of the bar are five people, mixed men ad women. They are muttering into their beer. They are clearly having a Last Drink. They drink it down, and get up to go.

One of these people is our protagonist. I picture her as an embittered young woman, fighting to let through a tiny ray of hope.

They go outside. They are in the ruins of a city. Buildings are boarded up. Some are ruins. Basically it looks like Stalingrad in the winter of ’45. The only things that are clean and bright are few and far between – and clearly not of this world.

The four friends scatter. They each go to a different hidey-hole, remove a weapon, conceal it. They move to set locations. They wait.

After a fashion, an alien comes down the street. These creatures are large, strong, intelligent, and emphatically not human. They are not bipedal. The less like any earthly life they are the better. Their dominance of the population is quickly established. Some tired old beggar gets in one’s way, and it kills him without breaking stride.

These five people, these rebels, each grimace at the sight. There is another man on the street just loitering. He seems unaffected.

The alien is walking through the city. He reaches a bend in the road. “Now!” shouts one of the rebels. They draw their weapons and open fire.

The alien is strong. He resists their assault. He makes it to one rebel and cuts her down. He runs to another who is forced to retreat. Five against one and the five are losing. They are shouting, screaming, desperate, the embodiment of desperate struggle. They are humanity. And they are losing.

Then the other guy from the street gets up to the alien, attacks it, beats it to the ground… and starts to fuck it.

There he is. Broad daylight. Nightmarish creature from beyond the stars. He bests the creature when nobody else could. He defeats one of mankind’s horrible overlords. He saves the lives of these freedom-fighters. And he does it WITH HIS DICK.

He finishes his, um, act. The creature is clearly no longer alive. He then runs. The rebels follow. And following his lead they manage to get to safety, away from reprisals from the alien species.

They hunker down with this fellow. He doesn’t say much. He is, in fact, quite clearly balls-on-his-forehead completely fucking crazy. Insane. Not necessarily charmingly so. But crazy. Crazy. Fucking LOONY TUNES.

All they know about him is that his name is Johnny. And what he does, successfully, compulsively… is rape aliens.

It becomes established that the aliens have taken over the earth. They invaded. The humans fought back. A large amount of the world was destroyed as a result. The aliens didn’t care. Whatever they want out of the world, destruction is not an obstacle. Now they go about and do whatever it is they do.

They seem willing to let humans go about their business. As long as they don’t do anything that might lead to rebellion. Such as use any electronic devices. Or get up to anything in groups. Or get anywhere remotely in an alien’s way. Then the aliens will kill them without a thought.

There are only a few hundred of them in the whole world. Rebellion against them has been unsuccessful and is now scattered and disorganized. In fact, this Johnny is about the first person who seems to actually be good at fighting them. In this he is pretty much unique. Also, indeed, in his methodology.

After much discussion, and being seriously weirded out letmetellyou, the rebels decide to follow him. Maybe he can be of use to them. Not like they were doing a real bang-up job before.

The goal of the group is to make use of this fellow – who seems indifferent to being followed in this way – in their fight against the aliens. The goal of our protagonist, both out of self-preservation and sheer human curiosity, is to find out who this guy is and what has made him into whatever-the-fuck he is.

They follow him. They watch him stalk his targets. They watch him prepare his weapons. They watch him, single-handedly, trap and disable an alien. Then they watch him bend the thing over a barrel and pound its extraterrestrial ass.

The rebels begin to employ his tactics. They bring down an alien, then another. They do not really work with Johnny. More like in tandem with him. He is a force of nature. He is hell-bent on his goal. Which is taking aliens and fucking them. To death!

Our protagonist finds out a few things about this Johnny. He has some awful traumatic experience during the alien invasion. She things it was something like a bunch of humans raped his wife and daughter because they thought the world was going to end. Johnny had to watch. This completely screwed him up, to the point where all he does is vent his horror onto the aliens.

I would intend to see his character portrayed as half farce, half truly horrific tragedy. Think Niko Bellic meets The Toxic Avenger… meets Wilt Chamberlain on a Viagra IV.

The rebels follow him. They have adventures. Some close calls. Some epic triumphs. Some serious nonhuman deathfuckings. They follow Johnny like a berserker. People see him in action. He gets known.

They go into a new town. They hear people talking about this guy. His name’s Johnny and he’s the only one who can defeat the aliens. He’s Johnny Rape. And he is humanity’s only hope.

More and more people begin to rise up. They take down aliens here and there. Many die trying, but at least they try. They organize. They get better. The rebel group helps them. Organizes them. Brings them together. And every time they see Johnny work his rapin’ magic, the people of the world become like French yeomen suddenly come upon Joan of Arc.

Finally the aliens are fighting for their lives. They are no match for these careful new tactics. They retreat en masse to a single location. The rebels find a way in to their citadel, Johnny at the lead, and there is a big climactic epic battle. Many die. Many of the rebels die. And at the end Johnny skullfucks the alien leader into a jell-o. He has the orgasm which saves the human race.

He comes out of the citadel. The aliens are dead. Humanity is freed. And he has freed it. A great cheer rends the sky for this hero of humanity. Then people realize just who they’re cheering, and the breath dies in their throats. And they just stare at him. Their savior. With alien brain goo still on his junk.

Johnny just stares back, crazy as ever. Then, I think, he walks off into the sunset. The Cincinnatus of Humanity. And possibly the craziest motherfucker in the history of fucking all.



Right. Now let us never speak of this again.


~ by davekov on 3 January 2012.

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