Posted on Sunday, 17 January 1999

"I can't believe the nerve of that guy! Right there in the middle of dinner he comes over and starts talking to my wife like I'm not even there!"

"They're all like that."

"It's that… that… that Look…"

"They strut around like they can do no wrong, like every woman in the world admires 'em."

"Don't they?"

"…he's always giving her that Look!"

"What's going on?" a husband of an avid Fan Fic reader asked, just entering the conversation.

"We were talking about how all those Fan Fic 'heroes' are always makin' passes at our wives."

"And girlfriends!" another added.

"She always wants me to give her the Look! I'm not there 24 hours a day, I can't be constantly giving her that Look!"

"It's hopeless," one despaired, "they exist only in the imaginations of our wives and are as wonderful as they believe them to be."

"Does she want me to send her an email saying that I'm giving her the Look?!"

"There's no way we can even begin to compete with them." Another added.

At that moment a low, heavy voice responded from the back of the room, "Yes, there is."

This resulted in many confused looks.

"How's that?"

"This is certainly a first for the Austen death matches folks!"

"That's right, Dan! Never before have we had so many contenders in one match." Stan replied.

"This is also the first time that we've had a 15 foot tall chain link fence around the ring." Dan added.

"Hey Dan, I've always wondered… Why is it called a 'ring' when it's square?"

In The North Locker Room…

"Don't you think that it's silly fighting against fictional characters."

"They have it coming to them."

"I've never fought a fictional character before."

"Just remember that they're only as bad as our girls make them out to be."

This prompted a young man by the name of Joe to ask, "So let me get this straight. If they think that these guys are wimps then they'll be wimps?"

(Author's note: Pay attention. This could be the foreshadowing of a significant plot.)

"Sort of, however, that's too deep for this deathmatch. Let's get on with the story."

As they moved into the auditorium Joe asked a fellow JH/B (Jealous Husband/Boyfriend), "What good can come out of this?"

"The guy writing this is a JH/B himself… There's no way we can lose."

In The South Locker Room, Austen's Heroes Were Getting Ready For The Fight Of Their Lives:

"Hey George?" Several men in the room turned to look at Edward Ferrars. "Umm, George Knightley?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think that there will be many of them?"

"Yeah."

"Are you nervous?"

"Yeah."

"Me too. Any words of, ah, comfort?"

Mr. George Knightley was getting slightly annoyed with Edward Ferrars' line of questioning. "Did you have as many questions for Colonel Brandon before he went off to war?"

"Umm, well umm, no. But I wasn't going with him."

The stands were teaming with activity. No seat was vacant while the bleachers were filled Austen's heroines, villains, and Fan Fictioniers. Mixed emotions abounded among the latter, while the former hoped for the best and the villains hoped for the worst.

The ring had a number of slovenly dressed women carrying signs displaying such things as the round number and beer advertisements.

"I can't believe that they're doing this." An annoyed Fan Fictionier stated.

"This has to be the most childish thing that he's ever done."

"Can you believe the clothes those girls with the signs are wearing?" One slightly perturbed fan fic wife asked another.

"What do you expect? This is after all written by a man." Her colleague responded.

"TORTILLAS! Get your fresh, hot TORTILLAS!"

"And here they are folks. The largest match ever held in any virtual arena. And boy do they look mad…"

"…I don't think that 'mad' is quite the word, Dan. I'd say 'angry.'"

"Stan, 'angry' and 'mad' are synonyms!"

"You mean 'homonyms.'"

"What!? 'Homonyms' are words that sound alike but have different meanings! 'Synonyms' are words that have the same meaning but sound different!"

"Whatever. Boy do they look livid!"

"Colonel Fitzwilliam, where are you going?"

Colonel Fitzwilliam, evidently constructing a hang glider from plaster board from a false ceiling and shoelaces, responded "This is how I got away from them in Houston, Texas."

"I thought that Laura lady's cousin got you?"

"I'd rather not talk about that."

At that moment Edmund Bertram burst into the locker room. "They're coming!"

With that news, Colonel Fitzwilliam put the finishing touches on his "hang glider" and jumped out of the locker room window.

Unbeknownst to Colonel Fitzwilliam, but beknownst to us, two men (JH/Bs) had made it to the heroes locker room prior to the nights events. Poised above the locker room window, they were ready for the Colonel.

The Colonel, void of the advantage of having a very tall building to jump off of coupled with the fact that he had not accounted for two additional passengers immediately fell to the ground, which was about six feet from the window.

"You bastard, I read your book!" One of the JH/Bs said as he swung at the Colonel.

The Colonel jumped back and found himself in the arms of a fellow by the name of Ralph. "Come 'ere Fitzy Pie!" A gravelly voice told him.

"Where are you taking me!" The Colonel demanded to know.

"Let's just say, 'Off into the wild blue yonder!'" He was told as the two carried him away.

What happened next with the Colonel was not pretty. It would however be remembered and told for generations to come. And not since has a more creative way to use duct tape, chocolate mousse, three chihuahuas, and an umbrella been devised.

"And here come our heroes folks! Hey Dan, look! None of them seem to have brought any snoo with them, either!"

"Stan, what's 'snoo'?"

"Nothin' Dan! What's snoo with you?"

"Stan, have you lost you mind…"

"Never mind that now Dan! LET'S GET READY TO RRRRUUUUMMMMBBBBLLLLEEEE!!!!"

The heroes came out of the locker room in twos. As they approached the caged ring, an overwhelming feeling of foreboding seemed to spread throughout the group. Mr. Knightley and Mr. Darcy were leading the way, followed immediately by Jamey McLindsay and Christopher Darcy. The rest of the heroes followed them. The last of the heroes was Edward Ferrars. Despite their nervousness, they displayed the courage that heroes have always shown in the face adversity.

Their courage was met with applause and cheers as they walked toward the center of the arena. Among those cheering was Mr. Charles Bingley. "Atta boy George, go get 'em!"

For a fleeting moment, Mr. Darcy wondered why Mr. Bingley was not in the group. After all, wasn't he married to the prettiest of the Bennet sisters? Since he could not reconcile this in his mind by the time they had arrived at the ring, he laid it to rest for the time being.

The Jealous Husbands/Boyfriends were waiting for them at the center of the arena. Amid them were men from all walks of life: a few doctors, some service men, business men, et.al. One thing that impressed the heroes most about the group was their number.

"I had know idea that we were so popular, Hank."

"Yes, Bertram." In order to avoid confusion, many of the heroes had taken to calling each other by last names or nicknames. "It's kind of a catch-22. When admired by so many, we are hated by so many."

The tension had mounted. It seemed that to break it would take a wrecking ball. It was actually Frank Churchill who made the first move. But instead of going into the ring, where several JH/Bs were waiting, he moved in the opposite direction.

"I can't stand it! You'll never get me!" Frank Churchill yelled as he ran toward one of the eastern exits. He was followed by several of the JH/Bs.

Mr. Darcy, Mr. Knightley, and Jamey McLindsay entered into the ring. They were immediately met with three JH/Bs. The six started to exchange blows. Mr. Darcy and Mr. Knightley were very skilled in fisticuffs, which surprised their opponents.

Having seen combat, Jamey quickly adjusted to the movement and rhythm of his assailant. Jamey bloodied his nose and sent him back to the cage door that he had entered through. Once at the door, though, the man did something that puzzled him: He slapped hands with another man and promptly exited the ring.

The other man charged into the ring and yelled "MARINE CORPS!" He picked up Jamey and carried him through the gate that he had entered through. The duo landed at the feet of Edmund Bertram and Henry Crawford.

Since they were both gentlemen, they helped the two to their feet. "Thank You's" were exchanged all around and then the melee resumed.

"Oh whoa, whoa. Jamey's cryin', now folks." Dan exclaimed into the microphone.

Jamey and the Marine were now brawling among the stands, each with bloodied fists.

Stan followed up, "Who would have ever thought that a guy in a skirt would fight like that?"

Dan replied, "That's a kilt, Stan."

Gasping for air, Jamey told his opponent, "You know, you'll never be as good as me in her mind."

Exhausted, the Marine replied, "Oh yeah, well you don't have this!" He pulled out a bag of Smarties and thrust them at Jamey's face.

It was then that a woman from the crowd ran to her DJH (JDH?) and exclaimed, "You're the Best!"

The Marine then carried her out of the arena in his arms. As he walked by Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy she noticed that the bleeding heart tattoo with the name "Spring" on his biceps bore a strong resemblance to her own husband's.

Jamey was confused. He turned and left the arena. He had had a long day and would be going back to India within the week.

Back in the center of the arena, Mr. Darcy and Mr. Knightley were fighting valiantly with Mr. Bertram and Mr. Crawford at their side. Despite their great prowess, they were getting tired.

"Darcy! Where is Colonel Brandon?" Mr. Crawford asked. He knew that the Colonel was skilled in ground warfare and would be a great help at this point.

Mr. Knightley answered his question, "He was mobbed by a group of JH/Bs that were still mad at him for canceling Christmas!"

"Where's Ferrars?" Another asked.

This time Mr. Darcy answered, "He's changing his trousers!"

Henry Tilney and Frederick Wentworth, who had been waiting at the gate, were surrounded on the outside of the cage and were fighting on the floor of the arena.

Christian Darcy was stopped by a youth who told him, "She won't even look at me because of you!"

He simply responded, "Come get some."

Frank Churchill had just rounded the corner by one of the vending stands when he was confronted by one of the largest men he had ever seen. The man was holding a steel box above his head and was poised to bring it down onto Mr. Churchill's head.

The man spoke, "Sorry about that Mr. Churchill. I was just refilling my cart. Can I interest you in an official 'Austen Celebrity Deathmatch' T-shirt?"

Before Frank Churchill could breath a sign of relief, someone down the corridor yelled, "There he is! By the commemorative tortillas!"

Frank turned to run but stumbled over the vendor beside him. The group of JH/Bs then surrounded him. Getting to his feet as quickly as he could, he spoke.

"I hoped that it would not come to this."

He reached into the side of his blouse and pulled out a metal cylinder that was roughly 10 inches, 25 centimeters in length. He pushed a button on it and a blue streak of light burst out of one end. This stopped his pursuers in their tracks.

"Wow!" One exclaimed.

"That is so cool!" Said another.

"I've been wanting one of those since I was 10."

"I'll give you fifty American dollars for it!"

At first Mr. Churchill was slightly confused by the wonder that had come over the group. Soon after he found himself answering several questions regarding his choice of weaponry and spacecraft, Tatooine and Corcuscant. One of the men questioning him seemed to have a strange fixation on Yoda and kept asking if Jane Austen had named him after Frank Oz.

On the southeast end of the stadium, George Wickham, John Willoughby, and Mr. Elliot were thoroughly enjoying themselves. Not one of Austen's heroes was going to get out unscathed. In addition to seeing all of the 'good guys' beat up, they were also reveling in the fact that several hero's wives were going to be by themselves while their husbands were in the hospital.

But while the trio was celebrating, a group of JH/Bs happened to be walking by when Mr. Elliot remarked, "And I know of one lady who'll need some company when this over with."

This stopped the JH/Bs. A man named Rick turned to them and asked, "Who are you?"

George Wickham quickly replied, "We are the Austen villains! Nobody likes us!"

Another JH/B asked, "Do you sit around in fancy pants and converse with women?"

Mr. Elliot said, "Why yes. We all do."

The JH/Bs said in unison, "That's close enough!"

What happened next with the trio was not pretty. It would however be remembered and told for generations to come. And not since has a more creative way to use a box of Kleenex, a bottle of Elmer's Glue, 27 rubber bands, and a slinky been devised.

Four Hours Later, At Bar Right Outside Of The Stadium…

"So Darcy, what is this 'business in London' stuff really all about?" A DH/B asked.

Resting a steak over his right eye, Mr. Darcy responded, "A whole story was written on it. More of the 'fan fic' stuff. Just ask Katt or Meesh about it."

The bartender passed out another round of drinks to the war-torn men.

"Hey Hank, what's Fred talking about?"

"He and Jim, one of the JH/Bs are talking about monster trucks. Apparently he's going to give up sailing and join Ford's 'Bigfoot' ground crew."

Later one of the JH/Bs was heard explaining to Mr. Darcy, "…so you see, it would be silly for us to be jealous of a character as ludicrous as Bingley."

Joe, a JH/B, and Mr. Knightley were discussing the relationships: "You see, while they think of us in a make-believe world, you get to live with them in the real world."

"I see. Although you're a mental picture, we get to drive them home at night."

"Umm, sure."

As the story closed, Edward Ferrars was heard to say defensively, "No, for the last time… I had just SPILLED my drink!"