Vindrax the Destructioner: Fan Fiction Vindrax tapped with maddening irregularity on the tiny keyboard, his wing claws much too large for precision and much too powerful for the plastic keys. The corner of his cave was littered with discarded computers of all shape and size. “Bah!” he bellowed, flinging a trail of acidic spittle in a reckless arc that landed upon the foot of a hapless Draksar servant. The poor servant fell to the floor, writhing in agony as a few of his brethren attempted to administer aid. “Why don’t they make these damn things my size?” “My lord,” said the Draksar leader, himself absent one foot, one arm, two digits and an eyeball. He had served Vindrax for over seven months, a new record. “Are you asking why they don’t make laptop computers the size of dragons?” “Yes.” “I believe, my lord, there are only a dozen or so dragons in the world.” Vindrax waited for the Draksar to continue. When it became plain the tiny servant would not, Vindrax pressed the question. “So?” “So. I mean...” the Draksar looked helplessly from one servant to another for aid, each shaking their heads vigorously. “It wouldn’t be profitable, my lord. There’s no market for laptops that large.” “That’s stupid,” Vindrax said. “You’re stupid. What’s a market?” Before the Draksar could answer the mouth of the cave was filled with a gargantuan form which blocked the sunlight and sent the Draksar scurrying for their hovels. Valdac stepped into Vindrax’s cave. Vindrax prepared to greet the newcomer in the way he greeted all those who entered his cave: with battle. But when he saw it was only his brother he sighed and returned to his typing. “Oh, hey Valdac. How’s it hanging?” “It’s okay. I just had to get out of the house. Akakios came over again.” “Ugh. I hate that guy.” “Yeah,” Valdac said, rubbing the back of his neck with a wing claw. “You notice how much time he and mom have been spending together?” “Dude, shut up.” “I mean, I want her to be happy, it’s just…” Vindrax typed harder. “Shut up. Seriously. I don’t need mental images of that dude boinking mom.” “Why does your mind immediately go to sex? I only said they’re hanging out – “ “And doing it.” Vindrax typed faster. “What is wrong with you?!” “Me?” “And done!” Vindrax roared. A nearby printer hummed to life and began churning out page after page of text. “What is that?” Valdac asked, welcoming the change of subject. “Just a little story I wrote.” “About what?” “The war.” “You mean the current war?” “Yeah.” “I can’t imagine it was insightful or even a little thoughtful.” Vindrax shrugged. “I don’t really know what that means. But this,” he said, fanning the small stack of pages in his brother’s face. “This is quality fanfic. Not that creepy stuff with, like, mom and Akakios or whatever.” “I’m going to blow past that last part. You’re telling me you wrote fanfiction of a real war?” “Yes.” “That’s ongoing?” “Yup.” “You do know thousands of people are currently dying in that war, right?” Vindrax grinned. “If you want to read it, just ask!” “I think you’re really misreading me here.” Vindrax waved the pages, face frozen in a grin. “Not interested.” Vindrax remained nonplussed. “Ah, fine! Give it to me.” * Widl chufun: the ravenging Hunres had givd a baybee to Widl chufun an they naym the baybe BASCHUN and becus hunres say he a angle an Widl chufun say he cut hedz liek a real angl. they laft at hilarus joek. then a barbarun com to say a fite was in the dessert so Widl chufun gos to fite OF CORS. Hunres say she wil com to fite but widl Chufun say to she hav stay with BASCHUN an make shur baby doesnt becum laym like the othr Baschun. she say ‘of cors” an they hav oyl nite befor Widl chufun go. Widl chufun hav secon thots and deside to stay howm with famly. HAHAHAHA! OF CORS NOT STUPID! he go to dessert to fite. Many barubas com too an they fite too. fite draksar an dorf and zombes an skeletins. So many to fite that at the end Widl chufun smyl to sleep. Next day he wayk to find a grate zombe dragun ovr his kamp. He rais axs an say I WIDL CHUFUN OF MONTAN. I HAV FREND OF SOM DORFS AN BEAT LAYM BASCHUN IN FITE AN EVEN KILLD FIRMAW! U STUPID! Dragun say IM MAREDRETH A DRAGUN ZOMBE SO U NO KIL ME. HAHA! Widl chufun not kil a dragun is dum thing for dragun to think or so Widl chufun think. he start a fite of evry but barubans no mach and maredreth swaloh Widl chufun. O NO! barubans leev to tel Hunres and BASCHUN WEN SUDEN! Widl chufun cut frmo maredreth belybutun. He luk at maredreth and she luk at him. Othr barbardintans wunt to fite but widl chufun say NO! SHE SPESHUL DARGUN EVN I NO BEET. WE GO FITE BACK TO MONTANS FOR MOR WAR! They leeft an Widl chufun and Hunres rased BASCHUN to not suk and Maredreth kil many. The edn * Valdac tidied the pages and handed them back to his brother, trying not to meet the other dragon’s eyes. “So? What did you think?” asked Vindrax. “I’m not sure – “ “That’s okay. People respond to my art in many – “ “I’m not sure that’s fan fiction. I’m not even sure that’s writing. Vindrax, are you illiterate?” “Is your mom illiterate?” Vindrax rebutted. “What’s illiterate?” Valdac’s head drooped. “It was…so bad.” “On purpose,” Vindrax said. “Oh, you wrote poorly on purpose?” “Yeah! Duh!” Vindrax laughed at his brother as the other sighed with relief. “Like Widl chufun would ever lose a fight.” “And the spelling?” “What’s wrong with the spelling?” Vindrax leafed through the pages. “Did I spell Mairdreth wrong?” Valdac sank. “So when you say you wrote it poorly on purpose, you meant…?” “That Mairdreth beat Widl chufun. I’m going to let her read it tonight before we play poker.” Vindrax grinned. “To woo her.” “Dude, she’s dead.” “Dead chicks don’t say no.” “You disgust me.” “Hey, you’re the one who flew over here just to talk about mom and Akakios doing it in the butt.” With that, the great Avatar of Destruction heaved himself out of the cave, fan fiction in hand, to slowly ascend into the desert sky as the sun sank below the horizon. “When did I say anything about them doing it, much less in the butt?” Valdac asked helplessly. The Draksar servants shrugged sympathetically. Valdac flew after his brother, glad for the whistling wind in his ears that he hoped would drive the previous half hour of his life from his mind. And Vindrax, he flew on. To poker. “And maybe to poke her,” he said to nobody at all.
