Midnight Jolt Run

Strike Fiss' Manifesto
February 2003


The Legend of the Boobiemaster









Valentines Day.  Loved.  Dreaded.  Feared throughout the modern world.
Chocolates and candies flow freely like...some kind of free thing that
flows like water.  Yes.  Water.  Or Honey.  Or, lots of candy.

To Wolfgang Noobernack, this day was feared before anything else in his
life.  His life wasn't that bad, you see.  He had a wonderful job at
the local television studio, making commercials for non-profit
organizations and churches.  Not only was the pay well, but he met his
wonderful girlfriend during one of the client meetings.  Apparently,
she was wooed by his kindness in helping out the Save the Garden Gnome
foundation of West Kansas come up with their latest slogans and posters.

They fell in love after discovering they shared much in their lives.
After a few nights at each other's houses watching Knight Rider re-runs,
they began to date officially.  It was fate.  It was love!

Until two years ago.

Valentines Day came rolling around; their first together.  Wolfgang had
heard that Melinda (that was her name, of course.  Silly author for not
mentioning it sooner! Hahahahaaa) had always secretly wanted a romantic,
intimate present for this day.  To confirm this, he would watch her out
of the corner of his eye as they trekked too and fro in the mall,
passing lingerie stores.  Sure enough, as the ads and billboards began
to boast their red and frilly nighties on sale, she would spend the
extra few seconds in front of the store, debating if going in would
give him enough of a hint.

Pleased with himself that he was so observant to his lover's desires,
he snuck into the store the next day under the guise of an errand to
run at the corner store.  Picking up the first thing he saw that seemed
the right shape had seemed intelligent at the time...

Oh, how he wished he knew...

Valentines Day, and the perfect romantic evening was planned.
Candlelight dinner for two, in front of the fireplace.  The dogs and
cats were all locked outside in the back yard to bug the Garden Gnomes
instead of interrupting their evening.  He even had the foresight to
call up everyone who might call during the evening and wish them a
happy holiday, then called to confirm his health and happiness to his
parents.  After that, he wisely disconnected the phone.

Most of the evening went off as planned.  Dinner was light to make room
for the conversation, music and champagne.  With desires running high,
he decided that it would be the perfect moment to spring his 'surprise'
gift.  With much romantic and poetic speech, he brought forth a red and
white foil wrapped box.  That alone won him an impressive series of
hugs and kisses that made up for the cost of the outfit itself (and the
three hours trying to wrap it impressively enough to fit the mood)

As the evening's entertainment turned decidedly less food related and
the two retired to the bedroom, she promised to return shortly from the
bathroom, wanting to change into her new gift.  Excited and pleased
with how well the whole day went, he continued crafting the perfect
setting.  Candles were lit around the room that smelled of cinnamon and
vanilla.  Finding just the right balance of volume and music was key,
and took several moments to get juuuuust right.

And then, he heard sniffling.

Then...crying!

Concerned, he walked over to the bathroom door, just in time for her to
walk out...covered in a sexy, beautiful, frilly tent!

It was about five sizes too big.  Everywhere.  Some parts were at least
six sizes too big.

After much crying and sobbing about how he thought she was fat, and him
trying desperately to deny it, she got dressed and left, running off
into the night.

He learned later on that she had been quite overweight in her younger
years and was still very sensitive about it.  After deep and many
apologies, explaining that it was all an accident, they made up and
both decided to put the whole incident behind them.


The second year...last year...was a bit less dramatic at first.


Wanting to wholly avoid the repeat of the last year's horrible incident,
he planned ahead nearly two months.  Consulting with his sister and
cousin, who obviously, would know a little about women's underwear,  he
was told to try to get a measurement for her bust line and waist if
indeed, he wanted to get her the perfect romantic and sexy gift.  While
it was embarrassing at first, he reminded himself that it was all for
Melinda and making up for last year's mistakes.  All it took was a
quick look into her laundry to find a bra, then he matched it to a
measuring tape he had handy.  Her jeans betrayed the final bit of
information he needed and so: he was done!

He walked into the store with a proud look in his eyes and a knowing
grin on his lips as he ventured past the frilly nighties to the more
interesting and revealing exotics.  They came in pairs, meaning only to
hide the bare minimum of a lady when worn.  Melinda would look stunning
in half of the sets here...now only to decide on a style that they
would both enjoy...and make sure the size was correct.

Now, this next part is important, as it shows why the Boobiemaster
himself exists at all.

At the counter, still smiling brightly, he placed the garments down and
pulled out his credit card.  Even the high price tag was not enough to
make him stop smiling.  The lady at the counter found his smile a bit
annoying, though, and saw what he was buying.  She was instantly
overcome with jealousy that her husband would never buy her something
this nice...nor would she be able to look as good in it as whoever this
man was buying it for would.

So, she decided not to tell him that unless the girl was
disproportionate in the chest, or had recently spent a lot in cosmetic
surgery, she would find this set to be a little loose up top.

Needless to say, the dinner flowed down hill the moment Melinda walked
out with a scowl on her face, asking if she was adequate for his needs.

After much heated discussion about breast size and how 'obviously' he
wanted her to have hers altered, they both unofficially agreed:
Flowers and Candy only.

It put a damper on their relationship for a few months, but after much
tender nursing of the broken emotions, they were back up to full
strength to celebrate holidays like Christmas and New Years together.

Always in the back of his mind, though, was the looming threat of this
Valentines Day.

Lamenting next to the water cooler at work proved to be not only
beneficial to his mood, as many of the male co-workers agreed that his
predicament was common and justified, but also beneficial in finding
the solution.

"There's always the Boobiemaster." John said, sipping from his coffee
mug.

John was a legend in his own right.  He seemed to always have the
answers to any problem and question.  Despite his obvious intelligence,
though, he was never condescending, and listened to his co-workers'
pleas with a friendly ear.  However, this was a much different problem
than usually came through his vast knowledge base (or so they thought),
and many of the co-workers looked at him in disbelief.

"What's a Boobiemaster?" Wolfgang asked, before anyone else could.
Still, despite his confusion, he knew that if John was offering this
information, it may indeed be useful.

"Last Valentines Day was nearly perfect." John explained.  "It sounds
like you tried your best, but the evil garment wench at the counter
thwarted your romantic evening out of spite."

The men all nodded, agreeing.  "It's always hard for men to be in those
stores." Trevor said.  "The women there always look at you funny.  It's
quite disheartening."

John nodded, then smiled in his wise, Yoda-like smile.  "Indeed.  If
only...if only."

Wolfgang's eyes widened.  "You mean...there is a man who works at one
of these stores?"

"Yeah, but he's probably gay." Sighed Ralph.

John nodded.  "In the past, the only men to work in lingerie stores
were indeed rather feminine themselves.  However...there is another,
and he is known as..."

Lightning struck somewhere outside.

"The Boobiemaster." As thunder echoed the halls.

In awe, the men all bowed to John.  "Please, you must tell me how to
find this man!  This man among men!  This hope among hope!  My
Valentines Day Savior!" Wolfgang whispered, bowing as a disciple to a
wise old sage.

"The trek is not light." John warned.  "It takes many miles to reach
the Boobiemaster.  Lest you be attacked by several Toll Booths, it is
best to walk the last portion through many wild acres of woods!"

"I will do what I must to obtain the Boobiemaster's wisdom." Wolfgang
said, tears in his eyes.  "No price too high, nor journey too long for
me to make Melinda's day!"

The other men all were cowering at the prospects, but remained curious
to see how Wolfgang's plea would be met.  They watched from behind the
cooler and behind the walls of cubicles, shaking in fear, but eyes wide.

"Your heart is true..." John said, placing his hand on Wolfgang's
shoulder.  "Rise, my friend.  I shall give you the directions, for they
are not in the Yellowpages."



The directions were as thus.  The drive alone would have turned many of
the half-hearted petitioners away from this mystical, holy place.
Thirty miles outside the city, not accessible by Interstate.  Then, the
road turned into a camping ground.  Following the directions given, he
went to Park 201, for it overlooked the lake.

The Lake of Thoughtless Men was a forbidden place that many had
perished before.  As he walked due North, trusting his compass more
than anything, he found himself only wet to his ankles.  A small sand-
bar, meant to keep the lake calm for swimmers made the trek possible.
To the left and right, however, were the men who went astray.  Dead
bodies, looking up at him with lifeless, ghostly eyes...

He could see the temptations on either side.  A Hooters Bar and Grill
to the left.  Signs that pointed to a Nude Beach on the right.  Still,
he kept focused, vowing not only to make sure Cupid didn't get the best
of him again...but also staying true to his promise to make Melinda
happy.

The other side of the lake was a hard climb almost straight up the face
of a mountain.  Still, undaunted, he scrambled up the hundred foot
cliff, and found himself catching his breath on the driveway to a small
building, crowning the hill with a soft, pink light.

He looked off down the road.  Indeed, many more temptations lay down
that path.  The one he took was the safest, but also, was meant to test
his resolve.

The bright neon sign, accented by little pulsating hearts, read:
Fanny's Fine Lingerie.

Doubtful at first, but trusting John's advice, he dusted himself off
from the hike.  He rung out his shoes.  He tidied his hair, and then,
he walked in the door.



It was bright and cheery inside.  Several women, young and old, were
there both shopping and working.  At first...he saw no men.  His heart
sunk.

"Hello there!" came a kind old lady with a "Fanny" name-tag on her
shirt.  "You must be looking for the Boobiemaster."

He blinked, then nodded frantically.  "Yes!  I have traveled far to
seek his guidance!"

The old woman smiled and pointed to the back, past many shelves and
racks of night gowns and panties.  "This way.  Don't be scared...he is
wise beyond what you have no doubt heard.  Simply speak your heart and
be honest, and he can help you no matter your difficulty."

He walked into the back, and found Him.

The Boobiemaster wore no nametag.  He was only known as his title.
Maybe, it was the legend that made him so popular.  Maybe he wasn't as
good as everyone said.  But, as he turned around and smiled at Wolfgang,
he somehow knew that he was not about to be let down.

"Welcome.  You seek me.  A gift for Valentines?" the man said simply.
His voice was strong and kind, akin to John's, but he carried an air
about him that was mystical in nature.

"Yes." Wolfgang bowed his head.  "These past two Valentines, I have
failed.  I wish to make up for my short sightedness and win back her
favor for this holiday so we might enjoy it together!"

With a nod of approval, the Boobiemaster walked up to him and offered
him a seat on one of the stools he had been using to reach the higher
boxes in the stock room.

"What is the lady's name?" he asked.

"Melinda."

The Bobbiemaster nodded, then closed his eyes.  "Tell me about her."

"Her bust size is thirty..."

"NO!" he scolded.  "No, you must not tell me, or it will ruin
everything!"  the Boobiemaster smiled and shook his head as he saw
Wolfgang's scared face.  "You must be true to herself...not her
measurements."

"She likes Knightrider re-runs.  She is tall and fit.  She loves pasta
and kitties named 'Spot'.  Her eyes are the same color as delicious
grapes...not the red ones, the darker green ones."

The Boobiemaster smiled and nodded.  "Much better.  Now, this part is
important." He raised his arms and opened his hands, as if pushing back
against something.  "Show me how you hold her."

He raised his arms, nervous, but then, realized he must be truthful if
the Boobiemaster was to do his work.  Slowly, he imagined Melinda in
front of him, and his hands holding her.  At first, around the waist.
Then, he smiled, feeling the power and magic of this holy place take
hold, and give him the ability to nearly feel her in his arms.  He ran
his hands all over her imaginary body, and when he was done the
Boobiemaster was nodding in approval.

"Very good, young one.  You are learning." He turned and disappeared
into the stock room for a moment.

Still nervous, but feeling pleased, Wolfgang accepted the small package
that the Boobiemaster gave him when he returned.  It was already gift
wrapped in red and white paper.

"Go to her, and have a wonderful Valentines Day." The Boobiemaster said,
patting him gently on the shoulder.  "You will find everything is in
order."

Wolfgang dropped to one knee in a respectful bow, akin to a soldier who
was just knighted.   "How can I ever repay you, Boobiemaster?"

"Cash, Debit or Visa at the counter." He smiled, making his wise old
eyes crinkle around the corners.  "But, beyond that, simply tell those
who you think are worthy of this place.  I will always be here to help
those in need."

And with that, he was gone.  (had to go to the bathroom)




He didn't dare open the package, as he assumed it was enchanted with
the same magic that made the Boobiemaster so powerful.  It was for
Melinda to open the package, and the more he thought about it, he
realized any act for him to peek inside would simply show he didn't
have faith.

Melinda showed up to candles and dinner as usual.  This time, though,
she was noticeably worried when he presented the box of intimates.
"Honey...I don't mean to be rude, but after all we've been through..."

"Please.  Just once more." He smiled.  "I promise."

With a grudging sigh, but also a small smile when she saw how sure of
himself he was... "Fair enough...one more try."

When she stepped out of the bathroom, she was blushing.  A bright,
wonderful smile on her face.  Wolfgang's eyes were wide as she walked
over to him, wearing the most...

Perfect.

Thing imaginable.  It was the color of maple syrup, and seemed three
times as silky and soft.  Every measurement was made to be perfect.
Every bit of cloth held where it was supposed to.  It left the
imagination wonderful room to work with, but also, proved that she did
not need to wear anything to be this stunning...

"I like valentines day..." he sighed happily as she descended on him
for a kiss.







So, when valentines day rolls around, all you fellows out there should
have nothing to fear.  For...there is one among us who has the power.
The skill.  The magical aptitude.  He will be the promised one who will
prove that yes...men can shop for panties and bras.

He is the Enlightened One.

The Valentines Day Savior.

He is...

The Boobiemaster.

And if you believe in him, he can help you too.






Strike Fiss, Studio Shinnyo 2003.  Khattam-Shud, EOF.