Rivals
Introduction

[AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story originally appeared, in slightly different form, on Ruthie's Club, accompanied by two delightful manga-style illustrations by Lady Neko. I'd like to thank Ruthie for patiently working with the rather tempermental author on beating the story into shape. I'd also like to thank The Wolffman and Selena Jardine for their help with an earlier draft.

Ruthie was originally planning to run it in late September, but I asked if it could go up for the last week of August instead-a wish she happily granted. It was important to me because that was the week of Burningman. On that week about thirty thousand cyberpunks, aging hippies, unemployed dot-commers, artists, rave kids, musicians, gawkers, unicyclists, fire-breathers, and assorted freaks were converging on the Black Rock Desert in northern Nevada for the Burningman arts festival. There, they built a city and, at the end of the week, tore it down. They had parades, parties, poetry readings, puppet shows, public spankings, and pillow fights. On Saturday, with much ceremony, a fifty-foot wooden effigy of a man will be burned. They whooped, danced, threw things on the fire, packed up, and finally headed home. Ruthie asked me to include a note about what the Burningman festival is all about. Ruthie, if I knew, I promise I would tell you.

- Vinnie]

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Narrator's Note: I sent a draft of this story to Amanda. Here's the e-mail I got in response, reprinted without comment:

Hi, Vinnie-

I read your story and I thought it was pretty good. I mean, apart from you making me look like a total bitch who talks like a teeny-bopper. It was a weird situation, though, and it's interesting to see how it looked to you.

I noticed you didn't say anything about how you look, though, which is kind of unfair, considering how you go on and on describing Tanya and how many remarks you get in about the size of my ass.

In case you haven't looked in a mirror in the last decade, here's a description for you:

You're tallish and kind of skinny, a 35-32-34, I'd guess, with a little bit of a slouch. You've got beautiful big brown eyes and pale skin. You've got a long, kind of aqualine nose, and not much chin to speak of. Most of the time, you look kind of like Franz Kafka in a good mood, if that's not a complete contradiction.

I've seen you comb your hair with my own eyes. Otherwise, I might think you never had. The effects never seem to last more than about ten minutes.

At Burningman that year, you had a scrufy little goatee that you were constantly pulling on.

You don't have much in the way of body hair or muscle tone, though you can be surprisingly strong. You do have a very cute little ass and beautiful slender hands.

Hugs 'n' noogies,
Manda

}