Sexy rewrites of Alf, Golden Girls, and Knight Rider by the comedian and Daily Show Correspondent.
Slash Fiction
Despite countless reruns of The Wizard of Oz, television is no friend of Dorothy. Gay characters are few and far between, and they’re definitely not getting any action on the screen. This is the driving force behind slash fiction, a genre that reimagines well-known TV characters as homosexuals with raging libidos. Today, anyone with a computer and the willingness to read television instead of watch it can experience their favorite characters living in an alternate universe devoid of silly hang-ups about things like sexual orientation and plot.
“WET WILLIE”
Series: ALF
Pairing: Willie/ALF
Submitted by: HungAngel12
[. . .] ALF spotted Willie approaching the garage and his green heart skipped a beat. Willie had been his friend and protector ever since his spaceship had crashed in the Tanners’ backyard. Sure, Willie lost his temper every once in a while, but for the most part, you couldn’t ask for a better companion. Except maybe a delicious tabby cat with a side of Melmacian mayo.
The screen door squeaked open. Willie looked even more frazzled than usual.
“Hey, Willie!”
“What is it, ALF?” Willie braced himself for bad news. Coming from ALF, it always was.
“I found some old leather chaps in a box under the workbench. Are they valuable?”
“Yes, they have a great deal of sentimental value. Why?”
“Because I ate them.”
“ALF!”
“How was I supposed to know?” ALF replied, instantly on the defensive. “Besides, if you didn’t want anyone touching them, you should have put your name on them.”
“They did have my name on them. They were hand-embroidered.”
“So you’re ‘Big Bottom Bill,’” ALF surmised.
“That was a long time ago, ALF.” Willie spotted the last remnants of his carefree, leather daddy days scattered about the workbench. “Oh, they’re ruined!”
“I think they were ruined when you bought them,” ALF said, recalling the chaps’ shoddy workmanship.
“Why do I even bother?” Willie lamented, slumping down on the ratty couch. ALF could see he’d really done it this time.
“I’m sorry, Willie.”
“Oh, you’re always sorry.”
“Not always,” ALF deadpanned. “Come on, Willie. Let me make it up to you.”
“How could you possibly make it up to me?”
ALF could think of a few ways, but he wasn’t sure Willie would like any of them, especially since most involved slow-roasting Lucky with shallots and a succulent port wine sauce. He had to stop thinking with his eight stomachs and do something Willie would truly appreciate. Suddenly, it dawned on him. “Hey, Willie!”
“What is it now, ALF?”
“Have you ever had a Melmacian Tickler?”
“No, ALF. I’ve never had a Melmacian Tickler. How in the world would I have had a Melmacian Tickler?”
“I don’t know. Maybe you’d been to the rest stop just outside Neptune?”
Willie had had just about enough of ALF’s foolishness. His face was flushed and his eyes burned with annoyed passion. “Willie, please,” ALF pleaded, placing a fuzzy hand on Willie’s knee. “Trust me.”
“Oh, all right, ALF,” Willie sighed. “I supposed there’s nothing left for you to ruin.”
ALF untucked Willie’s shirt from his belt, revealing a taut set of abs. All that pent-up anxiety had given Mr. Tanner great muscle tone. Willie felt ALF’s strong, three-fingered hands unfastening his belt.
“ALF, are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
For once, ALF didn’t have a wisecrack at the ready. He was totally focused on the task at hand. ALF yanked down Willie’s boxer shorts, revealing his benefactor’s rigid human cock. It made his mouth water more than reading “Garfield.” ALF greeted his benefactor’s penis with uncharacteristic savoir faire.
“Hey, Willie.”
“HOT FLASHES”
Series: The Golden Girls
Pairing: Dorothy/Rose/Blanche/Sophia
Submitted by: SilverYoni
[. . .] Blanche sashayed into the living room, eager to model her sequined bathing suit for the girls. “Well, what do you think of my new bikini?”
As always, Sophia didn’t mince words. “What do I think? I’ve seen smaller disasters at the Bikini Atoll. At least there they handed out tinted goggles.”
Blanche shrugged it off. She had learned long ago not to let the sassy Sicilian get to her. “You laugh, Sophia, but I’m going to look stunning in Dr. Fowler’s Jacuzzi.”
Dorothy felt a twinge of jealousy. Blanche was going on so many dates, Dorothy hardly got to see her anymore. “You and Dr. Fowler have been spending a lot of time with each other lately. Is it getting serious?”
“At her age?” Sophia blurted. “Take it from someone who knows: it’s hard to be serious when you laugh every time you see each other naked.”
“Well, let me put it this way,” Blanche said, turning her shimmering backside to Sophia. “Let’s just say these days I’m getting my checkups for free.”
“You always get your checkups for free,” Sophia retorted. “The only difference is these days it’s by a doctor.” Sensing she was getting some attention for a change, Sophia tried to impart some of her hard-earned wisdom. “You know, this reminds me of a story. Picture it: Sicily 1913. A young girl in her ‘experimental phase’ meets a buxom Swedish nurse named Ilsa — ”
“Ma, please!” Dorothy knew she had to cut her mother off or they’d be hearing about her sexual exploits all night, including her imagined pre-WWII dalliance with Mrs. Mussolini. Blanche, however, wasn’t even listening as she struggled to unfasten her bikini.
“Oh poop, this clasp is stuck. Dorothy, will you help?”
“Please! Go in the bedroom!” Sophia protested. “If I see your shriveled bosoms one more time, it will put me off prunes for good. And I need them to stay regular!”
“Don’t pay any attention to her, Blanche. I’ll fix it.” Dorothy led the way to the bedroom. This was her chance to tell Blanche how she really felt. Sure, she wasn’t rich like Dr. Fowler or young like that jai alai player who kept leaving his cesta basket in Blanche’s backseat, but Dorothy could give her something no man could. Besides, she was a handsome woman, and Blanche was a slut. What was there to lose?
Blanche closed the bedroom door behind her and continued tugging at her suit. “Thank you so much, Dorothy. I think I see a sequin jammed in the clasp.”
“What a surprise. You see something shiny and you want to take your top off.”
Blanche wasn’t surprised to hear a slut joke at her expense, but something about the way Dorothy said it made her suspect her roommate was testing the waters. Dorothy undid the clasp on Blanche’s top. For just a moment, her hands lingered against Blanche’s bronze skin. It was the only sign Blanche needed. “It doesn’t have to be shiny.”
“Oh yeah?” Dorothy said, smoldering with desire.
“Yeah!”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah!”
“Oh yeah — ”
Dorothy grabbed Blanche by the shoulders and kissed her roughly. Blanche was caught off guard. She was usually the one to make the first move. Blanche felt the strength in Dorothy’s hands. She was stronger than most of the men she dated. It turned her on, and that in turn turned Dorothy on. Dorothy couldn’t believe what was happening. She started to worry she was making a mistake but stopped herself. You’ve wanted this so long, she thought. Just enjoy it. It was at that moment that Rose barged into the room. Blanche pulled away, but not before Rose saw everything.
“I’m so sorry! I thought you were in here making paper snowflakes for the Winter Ball,” Rose blurted, her cheeks turning the same color as her name.
“Rose! Why in God’s name would you think we were making snowflakes?”
“Sophia told me you were in here scissoring.”
“Rose, you idiot!” Dorothy snapped. “Close the door and get in here!”
“GOOD IN THE CLUTCH”
Series: Knight Rider
Pairing: Michael Knight/KITT
Submitted by: HornyOrca
Michael was driving KITT down the road. Or rather, KITT was driving while Michael held the steering wheel so he felt important. They had been on the road for nearly eight hours, headed to a small town in West Virginia to investigate a series of art heists. It had been a while since either of them had spoken. Suddenly, KITT’s anharmonic voice synthesizer broke the silence.
“Michael?”
“Yeah, KITT?”
“You want to fuck?”
Michael was unbuckling his seat belt before KITT even finished the question. “You got it, pal.”
From The Sexy Book of Sexy Sex by Kristin Schaal and Rich Blomquist, published by Chronicle Books.