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[Fiction] Slattern - For an inhuman world


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(Submitted for canon considderation)

The human world is built on taboos.

Why don't we kill people? Because it's evil.

Why don't we steal? Because it's wrong.

Why don't we have sex in public? Because there are laws against that kind of thing!

And yet, humans are also fascinated by the forbidden, the taboo. If you can't do it, you want to know why. And if you don't think you'll get caught, you want to try it anyway.

Even if it's silly. Even if it makes you sick. That which is taboo is fascinating, drawing us in, drawing our attention.

Taboos also change over time. Sex has only been a forbidden thing for the last few thousand years. It's perfectly natural. Hell, it's one of the strongest driving forces of any animal. So the fact that it is taboo makes it completely irresistable. And the modern media has latched onto this fact like a drowning cat to a log.

Of course, Slattern has never put these thoughts into words. It's something she knows, but it's the same kind of knowing that a cat has when hunting a mouse. It's something she can feel and taste, and if she had to express it in words she would do so quite cryptically. But she doesn't need to think about it, and she's never felt the need to talk about it. She has, however, decided to act on it.

The arrangements had been made long ago. The satelite systems had been infiltrated by a friendly cyberkinetic. The network censors had been brought into the fold, and were now very good little boys and girls. The camera crews had all come down with a sudden cold, and the emergency replacements were among Pandaimonion's top baseline cameramen. And now it was nearly time for Slattern to take center stage.

It wouldn't do to spring the trap right away, of course. Slattern just sat and watched the action, both excited by the coming event, and bored by the tired metaphor for combat playing out in front of her. But she could be patient when she wanted.

And it was nearly time. She walked down the bleachers, attracting attention as she went, waving and blowing kisses. One or two of the baselines who saw her might have known what was coming, but if they did they made no move to stop her. She smiled for the cameras as the focused on her when she walked out into the field. It was five minutes to halftime, and half a billion people were watching Superbowl XLIX.

As far as the networks were concerned, all hell broke loose. In fact, as far as the vast majority of conservative American households (the biggest group of superbowl viewers), that's exactly what happened. But, as far as Slattern was concerned, it was a symphony, a carefully orchestrated and delicately crafted work of art and beauty.

What followed continued to broadcast for nearly twenty five minutes before the Networks managed to shut down the satelite feed by very quickly (and expensively) hiring a DeVries Elite to physically remove the satelite dish from the stadium. Slattern only stuck around for the first ten minutes or so of the fun, just long enough to show the players, cheerleaders, coaches, and referees exactly how beautiful their passions could be, and convince them to express them.

Then she left.

There were some recriminations afterwards, and questions, and controversies, and politics. There always are. She had expected them, and she dealt with them, and she satisfied the favors she owed for this little stunt. Those things didn't matter. Several of the players were pressing charges, the two star quarterbacks from the opposing teams were getting married next year, and one of the cheerleaders had errupted. But that didn't really matter either.

Why did she do it? Because a human world is built on taboos.

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