This was our first creative writing assignment this semester. First we described a memorable movie scene, then we had to write about an incident or situation in our lives that made that scene memorable. This is what i wrote:

Picture an aging hipster superspy, deep-frozen and transplanted into a conservative post-AIDS world. Give him a sidekick: the fabulously frigid Vanessa Kensington, daughter of his old sidekick and twice as snacky. One horny teenage boy in a man's body, and one Spice Spy who hasn't come to terms with her own sexuality. Now, send them both to Vegas on some kind of mission to defeat evil. What do you think will happen?

Well, old Burt Bachrach hits are swelling and filling the world with wistful Sixties melodies about love sweet love. Vegas has the dynamic duo in its clutches, blinding them with delirious neon, and the forces of evil are momentarily forgotten. Champagne flows like money in the city of chaos and chance, and the pair are whirled back to their hotel room as drunk as goats. Austin has reached a peak of lecherous charm, bouncing around the room rowing imaginary canoes and pretending to trip over the threshold only to fall neatly on the bed. Vanessa is momentarily uninhibited enough to come on to him, but he refuses her.

Repeatedly.

Because he can't take advantage of her drunken state.

Finally, she curls up next to him and he tells her wistful bedtime stories about her mother until she falls sleep.

What happened?


Okay.

So.

I am Austin Powers.

Not many people know this. They all think that it's just a movie. I can tell you this, cause you'll just think it's some kind of metaphor. But the truth is in here, if you know where to look.

I sold my story to Hollywood and they spray-painted it with day-glo daisies and dressed it up in twisted retro plotlines. But there are still glimpses of the real story in there. That scene with Vanessa, where Austin shows his true colors as a sweet human being instead of just a sex machine? That was me. That big scene they cut out where he has a lengthy affair with Scott Evil and learns the true location of Dr. Evil's lair? That was me too.

There's more lying in shreds on the cutting-room floor, about my superspy origins in a small private college in California, about the years in England taking hormones and preparing for the sex-change operation. They masked a lot of stuff in parable and parody, too. The fembots used to be Dr. Evil's drag queen army, and his evil lair was in an underground queer nightclub at the height of the Swingin' Sixties. They preserved a little bit of that in Frau Farbissima's little coming-out story, but the entire true transgendered nature of the tale was thrown out - something about it being too "sensationalistic" for them.

It doesn't matter, though; in reality, Dr. Evil has been thwarted yet again, and I'm back undercover, in reverse drag at another California women's college. The woman thing was always drag for me anyway. My true self was the hardcore swinger, the wannabe lech- boy who can't bring himself to treat women as alien and inequal like he's supposed to, the secret agent man who leads entire streets full of police officers and passers-by in spontaneous musical numbers. I know you still don't believe me, but just think: what better candidate for a superspy than a multigendered, criss-crossing, bisexual, hippie-wannabe who regularly bends the truth like it's Jello?


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lil shroomies