*Fandom: Dance Central 3. Done in honor of the latest Dance Central 3 updates.
*Glitch/Mo/MacCoy. I'm writing this, in the hopes of having MacCoy featured in Dance Central 3. And WARNING: THIS CONTAINS MALE/MALE ROMANCE. IF MALE/MALE ROMANCE IS NOT YOUR THING, AND/OR IF YOU DO NOT LIKE MOGLITCH, DO NOT READ THIS.
*Disclaimer: I don't own smack, save for the summary and my laptop.
*Originally posted on DeviantArt, under the name PeorthMoon.
*Story Notes:
-Everclears are among the most alcoholic drinks known to man, with 95% alcohol. Bacardi 151s are weaker, but still pack a pretty mean punch.
-I gave the last name 'Romanov' to MacCoy and Gramma Sasha, just for fun. I thought it would be adorable to have Coy related to Anastasia, the Princess of legend.
Once upon a time, I was a cat without a name.
Just another guy hangin' about th' Pier. That was me in a nutshell. I'm skippin' through all of th' shit I had to put up with it, just t' keep this tale o' mine on a cool level. I went through Hell and high water, livin' on my own. Workin' it, just t' catch some grub. But that's all yer gettin'. Y' don't hafta know about th' shit I trudged through, and I'd rather not stroll down Memory Lane.
So there I was. Barely hangin' on by a thread. Hoping t' live through every minute, without a prayer t' my-wait a minute. I didn't even have a name. I was just a piece of shit livin' in a pigsty, ignored by every cat around me. No one even knew I drew breathe-except for th' bastards I had t' work for. But then-
An angel came outta th' sky.
Sounds like somethin' outta a fairy tale, huh? Or maybe one of yer crummy movies. But there ain't no bullshittin' around in this flick. Th' only tune I had t' dance too was helluva difficult, but once the Big Guys saw fit to send their most bad-ass angel my way, everything changed. My life transformed into something different. Something beautiful, wonderful. It turned into a kaleidescope. One of those things ya look into, and see a thousand different colors come together. All on th' same motha fuckin' beat.
It was hard fer me t' believe what was goin' on. Just when I was about t' chuck myself overboard, some cat outta th' first Dance Central found me. And it wasn't just any cat. It was th' greatest cat of all: Mo.
"Ey there. What'cha doin' out here, all by yer lonesome?"
"Ain't got nowhere t' go? I c'n change that."
I was workin' it, th' day he found me. He told me he had been watchin' me from afar, eyeing my dance moves. Told me he couldn't live without my swag, and would never forgive himself if he left me to die, out on the Santa Monica Pier.
I'd never forgive myself fer lettin' 'im down. Ain't no way I'm goin' out like that.
What was it like, before Dance Central 2 kicked off?
Mad dope.
Mo had no problem keeping me onboard. Told me I didn't hafta get a job or anythin', but I wasn't gonna let myself slide. He was willin' t' put up with me. I wasn't about t' take 'im fer granted. I would've skewered myself first!
I had t' pull horse teeth t' get a job, cuz he never wanted me t' lift a finger, but somewhere along th' line he snapped and I snagged a gig. Not another sleazy gig, fer a buncha bastards. Somethin' legit. Somethin' that let me help out around Mo's apartment, without puttin' my sanity up fer grabs. 'n it was tight, cuz I used my paycheck to help out with a few things. Pitched my hand in fer rent, groceries, and whatever else Mo needed t' keep th' apartment runnin'.
What about school, eh? Good ol' Momo grilled me at home, cuz I didn't have nothin' t' m' name. Couldn't enroll anywhere without 'rents, let alone an official set o' letters to scribble on paper. So Drill Sergeant Momo drilled me in our homebase. I had no problem with it, cuz home schoolin' was the perfect excuse t' spend more time with 'im. He was hella busy, runnin' around at his own job, tryin' t' keep everythin' smooth.
Carryin' shit on th' brain, all th' while.
Where did th' crap piles come from? Came from his ol' cat, Coy. Th' Real MacCoy, star of the first Dance Central. Grade A toprocker and number one asswipe. He and Momo were tighter than tight, during the first Summit and long before Dance Central was even born. Accordin' t' Gramma Sasha Romanov, Momo and Coy joined hands on th' elementary playground. A buncha bullies were tuggin' on Coy's goggles, or some shit like that, and it was love at first sight.
They followed each other everywhere. Except when it came t' takin' showers, 'n shit like that. Slumber parties, talent shows, family parties-they practically pranced through flowers, holdin' hands with violins playin' in th' background. But then-
"Sweetie, it was absolutely horrible. I never thought I'd see World War III, but I did. Happened right before my eyes, Glitch. Coy was going through so much, and couldn't cope. Mo tried so hard to help him, and so did I, but...nothing we did worked. We couldn't help Sunny."
"My two boys fell out, and haven't seen each other since. Coy fell off th' face o' the Earth two years ago. Mo asked me if I ever caught wind of what happened to 'im, but I ain't heard a lick from my Sunshine."
Paradise Hotel shut its doors.
But even though they ain't heard nothin' outta each other, Momo misses 'im. Like crazy.
Wish I could pull Coy's pretty blue eyes outta his head.
We shut down Dance Central 2. We tore that shit up like a motha-fuckin' pair o' wolverines.
We won, hands down. And it was an adventure I'm never gonna forget. Why would I? Thanks t' DC's second season, I got t' meet Bodie. Emilia, Taye, Angel and errbody else. I even loved hangin' out with Kerith, even though he got on my nerves most o' th' time cuz he kept hittin' on Princess Alomar.
Yep, Princess Momo Alomar. Mo was a huge hit in th' first Dance Central, but once he broke out for DC2, every cat on th' motha fuckin' globe fell head over heels in love with 'im. Some guys from Delhi swore their eternal devotion to 'im, and posted their vows on Facebook. Some guy from Barcelona wrote this sappy poem about 'im, and innit 'e called Mo a 'Princess'. Th' name stuck. It's still with 'im. Works too. Not only is he drop dead gorgeous, but he's got th' attitude of a Princess.
He's goin' into Dance Central 3 wearin' a crown, too.
We agreed to th' new season without knowin' th' theme.
We were all stoked. Psyched beyond belief about th' new adventure we were goin' on. But as soon as the DC Committee revealed Dance Central 3's theme-
Our hearts sank like rocks in a motha fuckin' ocean.
Sure, the whole retro-active thing was dope. We knew it would be pretty tight, bustin' loose to all of th' classics. But-
Princess Alomar's prince was a huge fan of the 70's and 80's.
Emi gave me the lowdown. Coy and Mo inhaled old school tunes. They even shared th' floor sometimes, groovin' t' some of th' oldest crap in history.
"Everyone loved their Informer performance. It was supposed t' be Coy's solo, but Mo flew out onto the floor, and that was that. Everyone tore that shit up like crazy. People stil watch the video."
Mo switches off from time t' time. He's all fer chattin' one minute, then he falls off th' face of th' fuckin' planet. We can't find 'im-even though he's right there. Standin' right next t' us. Sometimes, I find him sittin' in our suite, just starin' out th' window.
When he found out about the DC3 gigs, the Boogeyman wrenched his heart right outta his chest.
I hate it. Hate it like a sonnuva bitch. Coy up 'n left 'im, 'n Mo's missin' him like crazy. Th' gang tries to keep his spirits up, but it ain't like it used t' be. This ain't nothin' like Dance Central 2. Th' spark's gonna outta Momo, 'n we know why. We're pissed off about it, too.
I wish I could roast Coy over an open flame. Like a motha-fuckin' marshmallow.
They ain't seen each other in ages, but Coy's still hurtin' 'im. Momo's runnin' around with only half a heart, and it ain't right. He can't take it. Sure, he missed th' sonnuva bitch durin' Dance Central 2, but during th' transition from DC2 t' DC3, shit got worse. Gramma Sasha never stopped worryin' about her boy, Mo and I kept checkin' up on her, and shit just continued t' go all th' way downhill. Nobody's heard anythin' from ol' boy MacCoy. Not Mo, not Emi, not Angie, not Gramma Sasha. Mo ain't heard nothin' 'n it makes me sick, th' way Momo misses 'im. But-
I ain't lettin' him down. I ain't gonna be like his 'boy' Coy.
After all, Mo gave me a name. He gave me-
My voice.
His hands traced the contours of his chest and waist. Glitch tried to wriggle out of his arms, but to no avail. Being intoxicated came with elevated strength, proven by the strength of Mo's grip. The Alomar had his protege in something pretty close to a deathgrip, squeezing him as if they'd be separated in mere seconds-and would never see each other again.
Angel and Bodie had left Mo in Glitch's care. Both of them had taken Mo out, for a night on the town, but unfortunately the night got way out of hand. The Santana's fondness for the bar life led Mo to two Everclears-a clear-cut recipe for disaster. He swore he was fine after the first, and just wanted to cut loose. After all, the boys were out on the town. They were living it up. Having a blast! Why not down a few drinks, here and there?
A Bacardi 151 followed the Everclears. So pepper was added to a dish that was already far too peppery for human consumption. Glitch vowed to care for his crew Senior, as he always did whenever Mo was anything short of happy, but-
It was like babysitting a rabid bunny patch.
"Yer so damn cute. So fuckin' cute. I jus' wanna eat 'cha up."
"Momo, ya gotta cut this out! Get offa me! Momoooooooooooooo-"
"Jus' when didja get so soft? You've always been like this, ain't cha?"
"I ain't always been like nothin'! Get offa me, Mo! Cut it ooooooooooooooout-"
Glitch viciously tore himself out of Mo's arms, but-
Tripped over himself, in a manner that caused him to fall square on his back. To add salt to injury, Mo intentionally followed suit-
And pressed his lips against Glitch's, in a searing kiss.
What th' fuck-
End. But here are a few snippets of dialogue I thought of, to continue Crash Course, in honor of the latest Dance Central 3 updates. I imagine these being spoken by the characters, set up in dramatic movie preview fashion, with epic background music. Something like 'Deep Shadows' from The Hunger Games trailer. Mo and Glitch have the first two lines, but everything else is left up to your imagination.
"Wassup, man? Ya vanished fer years on end, without tellin' me a damn thang! Ya screwed over yer gramma, screwed over yer friends, ya screwed ME over!"
"Stay th' fuck away from 'im! Y' ain't allowed anywhere near Mo, ya got that?"
"How could you possibly understand? I had to watch it all happen! I was there!"
"Are you sure about this, Angel? It doesn't have to be like this, you nitwit."
"It most certainly does, mi cielo. This is something I must do...not just for our crew, but for you as well."
"I don't know what t' do anymore. This ain't fun fer me anymore. Don't know what t' do, ain't got nowhere t' go...I just don't know."
"I'm thinkin' about throwin' in' the towel. He'll be fine without me."
"This looks pretty bad for the Hi-Def crew! Up until now, th' Princess' record was picture perfect! Mo Alomar never suffered a single loss! Dance Central 3 has gotten off to an explosive start, ladies and gentlemen! What will happen next?"