we invented the remix 5

a chris-mas story by cathybites: the how the master plan went down for real mix by dizmo

I don't believe in normal presents.

Anyone can give someone a tie, or a sweater, or some board game, or a bottle of liquor. (Not that bottles of liquor aren't usually appreciated.)

But no. You don't really remember ties, sweaters, random board games, or bottles of liquor. (Especially the bottles of liquor. Not if you use them right.) And I like my presents to be memorable.

Which brings me to JC. Now, as much as I don't believe in normal presents, I don't believe in normal presents even more for rich-ass popstars. (Not that it was really much of an issue before I became a rich-ass popstar myself, but I digress.) Rich-ass popstars are fully capable of getting their own ties, or sweaters, or board games, or liquor. (And they have absolutely no problem with the liquor, either.) So the challenge is to get them something they don't already have, and wouldn't even think of getting. But that they'll like anyway.

And with C, it had to send a message. Now, it's not entirely easy to send C messages. Especially if you're trying to be subtle about things. Not that he's ever been amazingly good at picking up subtle. Not that I've ever been amazingly good at doing subtle.

But I had to try. So I went to the drawing board. By 'the drawing board', I mean, 'my couch, with my XBox, but listening to Christmas carols in the background'.

Of course, the problem with getting inspiration while in the middle of a game of Halo is that once it hits, you get thoroughly demolished by Covenant forces. But it happens. And the inspiration was worth it.

So once I decided on my master plan, I had to work out the specifics. Obviously I couldn't get him the actual shit in the song, otherwise he'd be drowning in birds after day four, and we wouldn't even be getting to the good stuff. And it's not like finding a bunch of feathers in your kitchen leads to Christmas cheer.

So all it took was some creative thinking. And if there's anything I'm good at, it's spinning things so they're not quite as normal as you would expect.

The only thing difficult about planning for day one was deciding which Partridge to use. I mean, Shirley Jones was hot in the day, but the last thing I needed was JC fixating on the Partridge mom and ignoring the gifter. Bonaduce it was. Because really, isn't that just a fun name to say?

Day two didn't take any thinking whatsoever. Candy is one of the main lanes of my brain's superhighway. Up there with alcohol and porn. And I really didn't think porn was gonna be the best gift for only the second day of the thing.

Okay. Really? I will admit that day three was not exactly what anyone would call my finest moment. But really. French hens? Chicks are baby hens, and... well, it made sense at the time, all right?

Four calling birds. I had to call in so many favors for that one it wasn't even ridiculous. I think it went down to someone who owed me a favor calling someone who owed him a favor calling someone who owed him a favor... I don't even know how far it went down, but it worked. Sorta. Crosby's still a fat fuck. And my Donald Duck impression kicks ass, thank you.

So I had day five all ready. I really did. But he had cookies and mistletoe. And it was awesome. And maybe the cock rings were a bit too early. So I decided to declare the experiment complete at step four.

After all, I got what I wanted, and, although I could totally handle the laying part, it was going to be a bitch and a half to come up with a substitute for geese.

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