Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Author's Note: I didn't write this to offend anyone, I just thought it'd be interesting to write a short fic about Gwen and Duncan getting hassled by some Courtney-fans in "real-life." They certainly take enough of a beating on the Internet… not that Gwen-fans are any more innocent when it comes to trash talking. So please, no hate comments. Constructive criticism is welcomed.
"Okay, that may have been the greatest slasher movie ever!" Gwen declared coming out of the movie theater.
"Yeah?" Duncan asked, falling into step beside her. He didn't look impressed. "I think I liked the second movie better."
"What?" Gwen blinked at him disbelievingly. "Bloodbath 3 has way more guts and gore then Bloodbath 2! And the creepiest, most twisted ending I've seen in awhile. What could it possibly be missing?"
"Dunno." Duncan took a long, thoughtful sip of his soda before tossing the empty cup over his shoulder. "Maybe 'cause it tried too hard with all the blood."
"Oh? I thought they did a rather artful job with the arterial spray… Especially when it got into that guy's mouth!" Gwen added with relish.
"Well, yeah," Duncan nodded, smiling as he recalled the scene. "But that took away from the gore."
"Huh? No way!"
They launched into a heated debate over the finer nuances of blood and gore as they cut across the parking lot. They were still arguing while they strolled along the quieting city sidewalks, unaware of several amassing figures gathering behind them.
"…Plus, without blood there's no gore!" Gwen shook her head. "I mean, come on, re-"
"Wait! Go through here!" Duncan suddenly pulled her down a side street.
"Wha? Why?" Gwen stumbled along, trying to keep up with him.
"I'm pretty sure we're being followed…" Duncan glanced over his shoulder.
"What? Again?" Gwen's lip curled in disgust.
"Yep. Looks like," he nodded. Gwen looked back to see several shadows moving down the alleyway towards them.
"What do you want to bet they're not looking for our autographs?" she asked dryly.
"That's probably a safe bet." Duncan cracked his knuckles. "So you wanna take them here?"
Gwen rolled her eyes. "Let's try to avoid conflict, hm? They just started letting you walk around without a parole officer."
"Suit yourself," Duncan shrugged. "Run for it?"
"Run for it." Gwen agreed. They took off down the dark, narrow alley.
Gwen let Duncan lead, trusting in his experience in fleeing from the cops to aid them in this escape. After making a series of twists and sharp turns through side streets and behind dumpsters, they finally seemed to have lost their pursuers and slowed their pace.
"Now!" a harsh voice signaled from the shadows.
"Wh-" Gwen glanced about for who had spoken. "WAH!"
She tripped over Duncan who, unexpectedly, had lurched forwards. Together they toppled head over heels through a broken chain-link fence into a foul black swamp. A faded sign hanging from the collapsed fence read:
SEPTIC REFINEMENTS: Your Waste Will Not Go To Waste.
"Ugh! Gross…" Gwen gave a low moan, struggling to her feet. Duncan staggered upright next to her.
"Aww, crap!" He groaned looking down at muck he was covered in.
"Um, yeah," sighed Gwen bitterly and glanced about, appraising their location. "A whole lot of it."
"Man! When I find out who set this up…" Duncan trailed off, letting the unfinished threat hang in the air.
"What makes you think someone planned this?" Gwen asked as they began wading out of the smelly pit they were in.
"I got my feet tangled in this." He held up a long piece of rope.
"Oh."
"And them," he pointed behind her. Gwen spun around.
Lined up around the hole at the chain-link fence was a mob of like-dressed individuals, all sporting t-shirts that said 'Go Team Court!'
For a beat, no one made a sound. Then someone in the crowd let out a whoop.
"That was for Courtney!" he hollered enthusiastically. Others cheered and began shouting out their own two cents.
"Yeah! For Courtney!"
"How'd ya like that, you dirty back-stabbers?"
"Duncney never should have broken up!"
"Courtney! Courtney! Courtney! COURTNEY! COURTNEY!" Fans quickly built up their mantra to a deafening roar.
SPLAT! A large sludge-ball dripped down the side of the ringleader's head. All chanting died. The group warily turned to look over at where the missile had been launched. There stood the refuse-drenched couple, armed with dung balls, and looking pissed as hell.
"You want dirty?" Gwen crooked a finger, beckoning them. "Come on down!"
SPLAT! SPLAT! Two more devotees were hit squarely in the face.
"Ha! Take that shitheads!" Duncan jeered.
The Courtney-fanatics weren't about to take this laying down. They charged.
The fans may have had the high ground but Gwen and Duncan had an abundance of ammo. Slipping and tumbling down the slick slides of the ditch, most of the pack was already beaten by time they reached the bottom. The few who managed to keep their footing were slowed down by the slough as Duncan and Gwen pelted them with sewage. Their yells and squeals as they fell echoed into the night. Soon the wail of police sirens accompanied their ruckus.
"Damn! Someone called the cops!"
"Let's get outta here!"
"That way," Duncan hissed to Gwen pointing in the opposite direction from where the flashing lights were growing brighter. By time the squad cars had arrived, they were long gone.
