Starsky struts up to the counter to place their order.
"I want four Rio Grande tacos loaded, with a side of re-fried beans, and for my friend here," putting his arms around Hutch, "you'd better make it four 'flaccid' tacos, easy on the sauce."
The counter girl's gaze zeroed in on Hutch's nether region and she sadly shook her head.
Hutch couldn't believe what he had just heard and with a less than gentle hand reeled in Starsky. "That wasn't very funny."
Driving away from an all-night taco stand in the squash one could hear less than happy words coming from the driver of the junkyard bound Ltd. "Starsky, I can't believe you said that in front of everyone. Did you see the way that girl looked at me when she took our order? Starsky, are you listening to me at all? Sit up in the seat and stop laughing, this is not at all funny."
"I would say I was sorry but after you took every copy of my zine and used it for a pee pad for Louise, I don't think I will." After seeing a look to kill on his lover's face Starsky decided to backtrack just a little. "Okay, that about makes us even I guess, but you do know that because you also erased my only copy from the laptop that I am going to have to spend a lot more time re-constructing my zine, so . . . that 'Hutch And Me Get It On a Whole Lot' thing will have to be put on the back burner for now. Do you realize that I could have been on the brink of fanfiction stardom? There might have been royalties, no telling where it could have lead.
"What have you got there, love?"
"It's a tote bag, Hutch. There's this lady selling all sorts of 'our kind' of things over there in that hotel. Something called a Slash Con is going on in there, and you should see all the things those ladies have. I wasn't sure I was going to get out of there with my clothes on. The old Starsky charm was overwhelming them."
"What's on that tote bag anyway? Looks like two naked guys about to get it on under a waterfall. The colors are beautiful and the guys . . . Whoa! Wait a minute! Those two guys look just like us!"
"Hutch, you wish. These two guys are in some TV cop show, and these ladies at the hotel like to have those two heroes do 'you know what' with each other."
"What are you going to do with that thing?" asked Hutch.
"Well I figure it'll be the perfect thing for me to carry around my zine copies in when I go out and sell them . . . after I rewrite my zine that is. I was going to call my zine 'Hutch and Me Get It On a Whole Lot.'
Hutch woke up with a start, sweat running down his face. This was absolutely the last time he was going to eat ten alarm Pompeii chili and chase it down with a six pack of beer. He didn't want to have anymore of these dreams—no, better make these nightmares—of Starsky embarking on a new career taking over for Ann Landers. And what was all that about some hotel downtown hosting something called a slash convention about some TV cop show?
Hutch looked over at his curly headed lover looking so innocent in sleep.