[Note: The following is part of a large scheme concocted by Jess Frantz. Her idea was that – for Christmas – Phil, Julian, Nate, Tai, herself and I would all exchange stories about another member of the group randomly assigned to us. Nate wrote his story about Julian and I wrote mine about Tai. No one else has written anything as far as I know. So, in case this never goes anywhere, here’s Julian’s Christmas story, reproduced with the permission of Mr. Patterson.]
A Series of short vignettes staring Julian Mitchell, By N.B. Patterson
FICTION
Man in the jungle
A portly Asian-American stands in the jungle enjoying a post-prandial cigarette. He has consumed spiced jungle beast served to him by his native guides. He wears American military camo and a pith helmet. He smokes. He looks around. He smokes. He thinks about how Peter Parkers life would have been different if he had been able to save Gwen Stacey. A tiger arrives. “Did you brings the diamond?” The man asks. “Yes, my liege,” the tiger responds as it blows a fist size diamond from nose. “Now you may feast,” the man retorts. The tiger mauls and consumes the entire neighboring village. The mans laughter can be heard over the screams of the dying. It is high pitched and slightly girlish.
Julian Mitchell gets some ink.
Tattoo Artist: Are you sure man? You want I.C.P. 4 LYFE on your dick? Are you sober?
Julian Mitchell: DO IIIIIT!! I.C.P.!!! BLAAAARGHG WHOOWHOOWHOOYEAAA!
::2 weeks later::
Julian Mitchell: Oh. Oh no…
If Julian had hooks for hands
“Hey Julian, grab be a beer.”
“I have hooks for hands, Phil.”
“Oh. Right.”
“…”
“…”
“…”
“Hey Julian, grab me that ten pound slab of meat.”
“These are utility hooks, not meat hooks!
“Fuck you, Julian.”
“Fuck ME? No, Fuck YOU!”
::gouge gouge gouge::
“MY EYES!!! MY EYES!!!”
“Hey Phil, can you read me that sign? Oh, what’s that? You have hooks in your eyes? Weeeell pardon my insensitivity! Asshole.”
“::Gurglegurglequiver::”
“What’s going on in here?”
“Nothing, Jess.”
“::Deep, guttural moans::.”
“Then why does Phil have hooks in his eyes? And Julian, where are your hooks?”
“Uhhh…”
“::heavy panting and bleeding noises::”
“Phil, uh, had something is his eye. Eyes. Phil had something in his eyes. And, um, you know, they’re utility hooks, so I utilized them to get the stuff out of his eye. Eyes. Yes”
“Phil, is that true?”
“[Yes, it is Jess, all of it, let’s get high!]”
“That was you Julian! I could see your lips moving!”
“No, it wasn’t, right Phil?”
“::Death rattle::”
“See?”
“Good enough for me! Hey Julian, grab me a beer.”
“I have stumps for hands, Jess.”
NON-FICTION
That time Julian had sex in an alley
Julian went into an alley with a woman and had sex with her. There was garbage present.
My first shared sexual experience was with Julian Mitchell
When Julian and I were around 10 or so we had both independently discovered masturbation. One night I was sleeping at his house and we were up late talking about who we liked, and what would happen if the toys came alive like in Small Soldiers and attacked our parents. In the course of discussion one of us, I forget who, brought up the topic of masturbation.
“Have you ever done it?” He asked. “Yea, maybe. I don’t know.” I knew, and the answer was yes, constantly. “Yea, me too, maybe.” The discussion proceeded more explicitly as comfort and mutual understand was established. Technique was exchanged. I was a fan of the two finger and thumb grip the head method, while he favored the press to the stomach and rub the back style. I found this strange (I had yet to discuss with Matt with his “Claw” technique, which is fucking strange). I forget if we showed each other genitals or not. It’s possible, but not definite, and if we did it was out of yearning for world knowledge, not longing for cock. At this point Julian mentions how if you change channels back and forth real quick on his cable box you can watch semi-unscrambled porn. This is something I had to see. We surreptitiously ventured downstairs to his television. He was right! Semi-unscrambled porn! At this point, I’m pretty sure we both had raging erections and were thinking only of physically stimulating our prepubescent penises, yet we are both hesitant to bring this up for fear of being gay. Again, I forget who spoke first (in actuality it was probably a step by step escalation on both parts) but as we ended up one of us sat on the couch and masturbated while the other changed the channel back and forth rapidly and did everything possible to avoid looking at the other. I recall that Evander Holyfield was having a boxing match in the near future and advertisements depicting him in all his oily, hypertrophied, fist pumping glory would run on the pay-per-view channel if you did not change the channel fast enough. Periodically the boy in charge of changing the channel would pause for a moment so that the other boy would find himself, mid-autogratification, staring at the heavyweight champion of the world. It was hilarious. After dual climaxes each (that were mess-less as neither of us had yet the capability of producing semen) we returned to his room, went to sleep, laughed about it a few times and never spoke of it again.
Filed under: Anecdote, Colorado, Humor,
