CATEGORY:  Is it a Farce?  Perhaps.  A Parody?  Most likely.  A Satire?  Definitely.
RATING: G (for Goodness Gracious!  Give me a break!  Gag me with a giant Charms lollipop and Get me to the hospital before I collapse in diabetic shock from the sugar overload!)
DISCLAIMER: Nope, Trent and Carlos and the gang still don't belong to me, no matter how much I begged the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy, Santa Claus, and even that pesky little leprechaun guy from Lucky Charms.  I even told them I'd just take Trent and someone else could have the rest (hey!  I'm not selfish!) but no deal.  As usual, no monetary (is there another kind?) compensation is changing hands, bank accounts, etc.  And I mean no copyright infringement.  Well, that's not really true.  If I *really* didn't mean any copyright infringement, I wouldn't write it in the first place, but it's just so gee-golly fun to write about those guys, I can't understand why CBS didn't want anyone to do it anymore.  So please, Powers That Be...if you read this just remember, I'm a poor little woman with no life, and no Trent, so have pity on me.
COMMENTS: ::clear throat::  Oh dear.  I've been at it again.  Tongue planted firmly in cheek here, folks.  Yes, we all know that I am guilty of this genre as well.  However, if you can’t laugh at yourself, then who can you laugh at?  Also, I did not run this by my beta readers, so you can't blame them for any of it.
WARNINGS: If you don’t like Satire, or are easily offended: don’t read this.
 

Location:  Uppercuts, late to mid-afternoon on any given day of the week, except Sunday.  (Because even God rested on Sunday, and since Trent’s daddy was a preacher man therefore our superheroes must also.)

“Butch!  Set ‘em up!” Carlos called as he strutted through the door of the bar with his partner.  “A celebration is in order.”

The beefy bartender looked up from drying a glass at the pair of incredibly good-looking and talented private investigators in surprise.  “Well!  It’s about time!” he exclaimed.  “What took you so long?”

“What do you mean?” Carlos asked in adorable confusion as he took a seat.  “We disposed of the bad guys, saved a woman’s life, and didn’t make any money, just like usual.”

“Yes, but you got that case first thing this morning and you’re just now getting it wrapped up?” Butch asked.

“Well, yeah Butch,” Trent said.  “But there were more bad guys than we thought and we had to wait for Walker to get done saving an entire South American country before he could help us.”

Even as he spoke, the inimitable Texas Ranger entered the bar and sauntered up to where the two younger men were sitting.

“Walker!” Trent exclaimed.  “What are you doing here?  I thought you had work to do on a special task force for the President since there is no one else who could take your place.”

“I do, Trent,” Walker said to his former pupil.  “But first I have a favor to ask.”

“Sure, what is it?” the blond asked.

“A daughter of a friend of a friend of a cousin of a father of an uncle of an son of an old Army buddy of mine who was like a brother to me who needs protection even though I’ve been teaching her karate ever since she was able to stand.  Do you think you can handle it?”

Trent and Carlos looked at each other, then back at the Texas Ranger.  “Sure!” the two PI’s replied in unison.

“Good, because she’s waiting outside, completely unguarded and I’ve got to go.  I’ll send her in on my way out,” Walker said.  Replacing the cowboy hat on his head which he’d removed upon entering the bar, Cordell Walker left.

Immediately in his place stood the MOST BEAUTIFUL WOMAN IN THE UNIVERSE.  A reverent hush fell over the barroom and the lights dimmed in respect for the glow she radiated from within.  In fact, it hurt Trent’s eyes to look at her for too long, for her beauty was so overwhelming.

Before the two private investigators could react, several large, masked men with guns appeared behind her.  One attempted to grab the gorgeous creature, but she sprung into action, disarming and disabling every single one of the two dozen would be thugs with fancy karate kicks and moves that only Walker knew other than her.  Trent’s eyebrows raised in appreciative surprise.

When it was all over, she stepped over a body and walked up to the bar, followed by a small gathering of timid woodland creatures who just wanted to be close to her; every silky strand of (insert color of choice here) hair perfectly in coifed and expensive designer clothes completely unwrinkled.  Then she smiled and the sun went straight into an eclipse, hiding from shame that it had been outdone.

“Hi.  I’m Mary Sue,” she said, holding out her hand.  When she spoke Trent heard a chorus of angels singing and the Westminster chimes ringing all the way from across the ocean.

Though Carlos stood respectfully and grinned his most appealing multi-mega-watt smile that usually had women swooning at his feet in a matter of moments, she only saw Trent.  As soon as their eyes met, they were both lost.  Even Carlos snapping his fingers in between their faces couldn’t get their attention.  As Trent looked into her large, lovely (insert color of choice here) eyes with his soft, expressive blue eyes, he knew he was hopelessly in love.  (After all…who wouldn’t love Mary Sue?  She was so perfect.)  And when their skin touched, Trent knew that they were bonded together for life.  (Or was that the superglue he didn’t quite get off his hands?)

Either way, the blond opened his mouth to speak his heart.  “I…”

“I know,” Mary Sue said.  “I feel the same way.”

“Will you marry me?” Trent asked.

“Of course!” Mary Sue replied, and flung herself into his incredibly big, strong, protective arms.  As they kissed passionately, a film crew came in and photographed them to use in the next “Big Red” commercial.  The rest of the bar patrons sighed at the beautiful sight of their love.

From that moment on, their lives, (or at least the next several hours) were a whirlwind of activity as they made preparations for the big wedding.  Alex Cahill got a judge to waive the blood test as a special favor and Roscoe waived the pre-marital counseling and waiting period, for everyone who saw them could see that they were MEANT TO BE TOGETHER.

Forever.

The wedding was perfect, of course.  Mary Sue wore a stunning white gown that perfectly accentuated her perfectly proportioned feminine figure and Trent cut a dashing figure in an elegant black tux.  Nearly all of Dallas came out for the big event.  Those that weren’t invited hung on the fringes just for the chance to glimpse the happy couple and share vicariously in their bliss.

At the reception after the ceremony, which was held jointly at Walker’s Ranch and Katie’s house in order to hold all the guests, Trent and Mary Sue danced together in perfect harmony as husband and wife.  Frail old men around the perimeter dropped to the floor from heart attacks each time Mary Sue passed by.

“Well!” Katie exclaimed to Alex, who was eyeing the younger woman rather jealously (after all, she was used to being the center of attention), as another guest clutched his chest and paramedics rushed to his side. “If this keeps up we’ll have too much of CD’s chili left over.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Alex said (for in all honesty, she couldn’t stay angry and jealous with Mary Sue for too long.  No one could.)  “Since CD is still in Indonesia, he’ll never know.”

“I thought it was Japan?” Katie said.

“Whatever,” Alex replied.

Unfortunately, disaster was only waiting in the wings to strike.  Nature called and Trent had to answer.  As he went to do his business, suddenly he was struck over the head from behind by a gargantuan wrecking ball and slumped to the floor unconscious.  At least six unshaven seedy-looking types dressed in various fashion faux pas swarmed around him.

“You didn’t hurt him too bad did you?” asked a man with an indeterminable accent, wearing a well-cut silk suit and smoking a cigar who just so happened to step out of the shadows at that very moment.

“No boss,” replied one of the dozen goons now carrying Trent’s limp body to an unmarked van parked suspiciously close by even though there were various Texas Rangers and Dallas Police officers in attendance at the wedding.

“Good.  I need him alive,” said the man who was obviously the ‘boss’, and not only because that’s what the rest called him.  He was also obviously the only man with any sort of intelligence (although not too much intelligence to mess with the close friend of Walker, Texas Ranger, the silly, silly man...) about him.  “At least for the time being,” he added as he climbed into a fifty-foot long stretch limousine with an Olympic sized pool in the back which no one at the wedding reception even noticed and sped off.

He was followed by the unmarked van which now carried a bleeding-from-his-head-wound Trent and two dozen paid thugs.

Alas!  When Mary Sue went to the restroom to find Trent, after shooing a fluffy white bunny, a fawn, and a chipmunk gently out of the way, he was gone!  Immediately, she knew something was amiss, for her darling devoted husband could not stand to be parted from her for more than five minutes at a time.  (Now how he was going to manage that and still keep his job was anyone’s guess.  Most likely Mary Sue would have to partner up with Trent and Carlos which would bring in more business since she would be so much better at private detection than either of the hapless men.  Or she’d have to work in the office with Kim even though there wasn’t enough work just to keep the redhead busy.  But I digress…) Instinctively, Walker was at her side.  He’d had a ‘feeling’ that something was wrong and raced over from his ranch, leaving the President on hold on the telephone.

“Don’t worry, Mary Sue,” Walker said, laying a comforting hand on her perfect shoulder.  “We’ll find him.  Come on, Trivette.  Let’s go,” he said as he spun on his boot heel and climbed in his truck and raced after the unmarked van with three dozen goons and suspicious limousine which he hadn’t actually seen, but still knew exactly where they were headed.

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to Walker and Trivette, Mary Sue ripped off her wedding gown to reveal a slinky black catsuit a la Emma Peel, (think Batgirl without the stupid cape and mask, if you’re too young to remember or have never seen a rerun of “The Avengers”) jumped into her ultra-expensive and option loaded (insert make of your choice here) convertible (what else?) sportscar and followed.

She was nearly a split second too late.  The bad guys, who numbered just under four dozen by this time, had Trent, Walker, Trivette, Carlos, and even those awful new Rangers that NOBODY likes, Gage and Sydney, at their mercy and were just about to put their nefarious plot into action.  They were taking control of a network broadcast satellite and superimposing subliminal messages on to all BackStreet Boys videos that would put the entire adolescent and 18-49 year old demographic population of the world under their control.  After which, they would make them all go out and products for which they had absolutely no use but that the advertisers paid the networks big bucks to promote so that the networks could charge even bigger bucks for commercial spaces while airing increasingly inferior programs.

“Mary Sue!” Trent, Walker, Trivette, Carlos, and even those awful new Rangers that NOBODY likes, Gage and Sydney, except for Alex who was notably missing from this quandary, all cried out when they saw her.  “Help!  You got to stop them!  You’re our only hope!”

“Stop!” Mary Sue cried.

The five dozen bad guys froze in their tracks, stunned into immobility by Mary Sue’s beauty and blinded by the whiteness of her perfectly straight teeth which had never known braces.

“You can’t do that,” Mary Sue continued.  “It’s wrong.”

The six dozen bad guys looked at one another then hung their head in shame amid a chorus of “Oh yeah’s”.  Then they set about unplugging all the super-sophisticated electronic equipment that even the government didn’t have but bad guys always seemed to be able to get their hands on while Mary Sue went to untie Trent.  As she knelt down next to him, their eyes met and they both froze, staring, lost in the moment that not even a poet could put into words.  Then they kissed passionately and everyone else sighed at the beautiful sight of their love.

“Wait a minute!” a voice called out and the cigar smoking man in the silk suit stepped out of the shadows.  “I say keep going!”

The seven dozen bad guys looked at one another then nodded their heads amid a chorus of “Sure Boss”es and set about plugging everything back in and powering it all back up.

“But you can’t!” Mary Sue exclaimed and everyone in the room, Trent, Walker, Trivette, Carlos and even those awful new Rangers that NOBODY likes, Gage and Sydney, except for Alex who was notably missing from this quandary, and the eight dozen bad guys all froze.  They waited for the cigar smoking man in the silk suit to melt into a helpless puddle of male testosterone at the sight of Mary Sue’s beauty.

But he didn’t.  For you see, he was really a (Borg, immortal…it really doesn’t matter.  Insert villain of choice here) and was immune to Mary Sue’s charms.

But not her fighting skills.

“Get her boys!” he commanded and Mary Sue sprang into action with a round kick to one goon, a back kick to another.  She followed that up with a side kick, a front kick, and a high kick.  (Rockettes, look out!)  Then her exquisitely dainty, spike-heeled feet and ultra soft, perfectly manicured hands became a flurry of motion as she laid out one bad guy after another.  The fact that none of them were even fighting back completely escaped her and the others (Trent, Walker, Trivette, Carlos, and even those awful new Rangers that NOBODY likes, Gage and Sydney, except for Alex who was notably missing from this quandary) who were watching because they were completely entranced by her grace, power, style, and of course…beauty.

When Mary Sue had dispatched of all the nine dozen goons and placed the main bad guy under citizens arrest (handcuffing him with the pair she just happened to carry around for emergencies such as this) all in a record time of thirty seconds, even for her, she went to untie Trent.  However, as soon she looked into his eyes, she was lost.  And then they kissed passionately while everyone else (even the unconscious goons) sighed at the beautiful sight of their love.

“Mary Sue!” Walker interrupted.  “Hurry, you don’t have much time!  The nefarious subliminal messages are about to start and then we’ll all turn into mindless zombies, except for me because I’m really not in that target demographic anymore.  But I’m still tied up and you’re not.”

“Right, Walker,” Mary Sue replied.

“Be careful my darling, sweetheart, honey bunny, cupcake love,” Trent said, gazing at her in abject adoration.

“I will my dearest beloved beefcake stud muffin lover,” Mary Sue replied just as adoringly.

She backed away, still unable to take her eyes off of Trent and tripped over a huge, bright orange current cable carrying in excess of six hundred amps to all of the equipment.  (Yes, it was overkill, but then bad guys aren’t known for subtlety.)  As Mary Sue fell, she executed at perfect back flip, missed the next piece of machinery, and deftly caught the loose, live wire in her bare hands before it had a chance to land near her precious Trent and endanger his life.

Unfortunately, as soon as her leather soled shoes made contact with the floor, a path was created and electricity streaked through Mary Sue’s body, killing her on the spot.  But at least the world was once again a safe place for democracy and boy bands.

The funeral was held a few days later…after Walker, Trivette, and Gage finally pried Trent off of Mary Sue’s lifeless body.  He wept the whole time.  He was heartbroken, shattered, a shell of a man.  He’d lost the love of his life.  And once, in his grief as he hugged her gravestone just to be that much closer to her, he considered taking his own life.

“Excuse me?”

Trent looked up, his eyesight blurry from the tears and saw a woman standing not too far away from him.

“Is this where they put Mary Sue?” she asked.  Trent nodded and sniffed.  The woman came closer.  “I’m sorry I missed the funeral,” she said, kneeling down next to him.  “I tried to get here in time, but I couldn’t.”

Trent looked up into the most incredible pair of (insert color of choice) eyes he’d ever seen.  Well, okay…maybe the second most incredible.  Ah heck…make it a tie.  “Who are you?” he asked.

“I’m her cousin,” she said as she gazed back at him.  And for a moment they were lost.  “Mary Lou.”

“Well, hell-o Mary Lou,” Trent said with a smile.  (Goodbye heart.)

THE END.

;-)

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