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September 5, 2003
The Art Of Fan Fiction

Some of you readers might be getting depressed by the way I've been forced to resort to scraping the bottom of the barrel for stuff to write about. I know I sure am, anyway. Obviously, this is because Trent Reznor hates us all. The sooner we all just accept this, the better off we'll be.

One thing I like to do in between writing half-assed, shitty Meathead Perspectives is read fan fiction. I tell you, I can't think of anything in this world I like more than fan fiction. Whether it's about X-Files, Final Fantasy, Gilligan's Island, or Roy Orbison, you always know it's bound to be good. Sure, the people writing these stories might not be "professionals," or have "talent," but what matters is that they have heart. These people really care about what they're writing about, and it shows.

It occurred to me the other day that instead of just reading fan fiction, why not try my hand at writing some as well? Sure, there are other people already writing thrilling stories about their imaginary adventures with Nine Inch Nails, but that's no reason I can't do it too. So please bear with me as I try to write my own exciting NIN story! It's not like you have anything better to do.


Trent's Big Barbecue
By Meathead


It was a hot, sunny Friday afternoon in New Orleans. Trent Reznor sat in his studio working on his new album. Daisy May, Trent's trusty dog, sat by his side, watching intently as Trent twiddled knobs and stuff.

"Boy, making albums is exhausting," said Trent. "I have been working on this same song for almost an hour now. I think I will go outside."

Trent stepped outside his recording studio, with Daisy in tow, and stretched his arms in the air. Daisy wagged her tail excitedly and urinated beside a nearby dumpster.

"It sure is a nice day today, isn't it, Daisy?" asked Trent. Daisy barked cheerily in response. "I think we should have a barbecue," said Trent. "That would be so neat!"

Trent removed the cellular phone from his belt. "I can't wait to tell Leo," said Trent as he dialed Leo's number. "He just loves barbecues!"

After a few moments, Leo answered the phone. "A barbecue? Fuckin' A!" he exclaimed, upon hearing Trent's idea. "Just let me finish masturbating, and I'll be right there!"

"See you there," said Trent as Leo hung up the phone. "Now I need to invite my close, personal friend Meathead! I sure do enjoy Meathead's company. His website is so funny, and he has such a warm, charming personality. Plus he's incredibly handsome, even though I'm not gay or anything." Trent turned his phone back on and dialed Meathead's number.

"A barbecue? Fuckin' A!" exclaimed Meathead. "Just let me finish giving oil massages to the entire Swedish bikini team, and I'll be right there!"

"This is so awesome," Trent said to himself. "This is going to be a great day. I'd better go buy some meat at the store."

Just then Meathead pulled up beside the studio in his shiny black Dodge Viper convertible, and honked the horn. "Hey Trent, I'm here!" called Meathead. "Wow, just in time!" replied Trent, and jumped into the passenger seat of Meathead's really cool car. "Now let's go to Piggly Wiggly and buy meat!"

"All right!" said Meathead, as he threw the car into gear and floored the accelerator. Exactly three minutes later, Meathead swerved deftly into the Piggly Wiggly parking lot and came to a stop in a parking space directly in front of the store. Meathead and Trent got out of the totally badass car and walked in through the sliding glass doors.

After they picked out the meat for the barbecue, they proceeded towards the nearest cash register. The ravishly attractive brunette behind the counter smiled excitedly.

"I'm sorry, but I just have to ask," the Piggly Wiggly employee said timidly. "Are you the guy who writes the Meathead Perspective?"

"But of course," replied Meathead. "Would you like my autograph?"

"Oh yes, could I?" exclaimed the nubile young woman. "I love your website sooo much."

Just then, as Meathead prepared to reach for his trusty Sharpie marker, gunshots were heard outside. Three heavily armed men wearing camouflage and bandanas stormed into the grocery store.

"We are terrorists!" shouted one of the men. "Do not mess with us! America is evil and we will take all of your money and probably kill you!"

"Oh no!" shrieked Trent. "What are we going to do, Meathead? These guys are going to ruin our barbecue!"

"Don't worry," Meathead replied calmly. "I've dealt with these types before. They won't be ruining anyone's barbecue today!"

Meathead grabbed a nearby pineapple and threw it at the first gunman. "Ouch, my head!" he screamed, and dropped his AK-47 on the floor, which Meathead quickly snapped up.

"You don't fuck with America, you evil terrorists!" announced Meathead as he pulled the trigger, spraying the would-be robbers, as well as the fresh produce and plate glass windows behind them, with bullets.

The terrorists were dead, and everyone in the store cheered. The store manager, Greg, came out from his office and shook Meathead's hand. "You can take the meat," said Greg. "It's on us."

"Come on," Meathead said to Trent, who was still hiding behind the conveyor belt. "Let's go have ourselves a barbecue!"

Meathead and Trent picked up the meat and walked over the blood and shattered glass to the door, and got back into Meathead's awesome car. Within moments they were back at the studio.

"Man, that was so cool how you took out those terrorists and got us free meat," remarked Trent. "Rob would never have done that."

"All in a day's work," replied Meathead. "All in a day's work. Hey, there's Leo!"

Leo Herrera sat on the curb in front of Trent's studio. As soon as he spotted Meathead and Trent, he sprang to his feet. "You're back! I was just about to go masturbate again. What took you guys so long?"

"Oh, nothing," said Meathead nonchalantly, and winked at Trent. "Here, have a sausage!" Meathead said as he tossed the meat towards Leo.

After a brief silence, all three burst into laughter.

"We really need to do this more often!" Trent exclaimed, as Leo went to get the grill. That afternoon they ate hot dogs, sausages, and cheeseburgers, while talking about their favorite Meathead Perspectives. It was the best goddamned barbecue ever.

THE END



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