The author had some trouble with their text editor when they posted to the newsgroups.
In the interest of being thorough, I went to their website and sure enough, all the
periods were commas and the period for comma problem was gone.
The story, however, hadn’t improved.
It took the Swiss Witch well over 2 months to review this. It made my imported head hurt to think about it all total, so
I took it a section at a time. It brings new meaning to the terms hackneyed and cliché in fanfic. It also is a miracle in
mixed and unfinished metaphor and ellipse abuse..
In order to properly review it, I borrowed the Wicked Witch of the Midwest’s amp so I could go to 11. Be warned.
THE LAKE
By: Jamie Tanquary
(like the gin you’ll need after reading this.)
Feedback: If you feel so inclined to let me know you liked my work (believe me
I know how hard it is to write feedback (Jamie, you have NO IDEA how hard it was to write
anything about this story at all.) then do so to [email protected]
Rating: NC-17
Classification: MSR
Disclaimer: I really don't see the point of this considering there is not one
name used throughout the whole thing. (Good thing it’s on the X-Files list. I’m just going to
assume it’s Mulder and Scully.) But ok it all belongs to CC, FOX, Ten
Thirteen Pro, and DD & GA. Everything except the storyline. That's mine.
(And you can have it.)
Summery: Ok. OK…so maybe I was in the mood for a little Smut…well not
completely. It is a little sappy as well. (And more than a little bad.)
Visit my website for more of my stories
http://www.fortunecity.com/roswell/deva/631
(Or, just run for the hills.)
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
He took her there…as an act of rebellion, or maybe desire. The night was laced
with words unspoken. Had he brought her here for some unsuspecting reason?
She didn't want to know his motives…for they were the same as hers.
(Note from the Swiss Witch: I realize this breaks up the paragraph, but I must interject.
Those sentences made utterly no sense. Hold on. I’m going to read them again. Read with me.
No. That makes no sense at all. Maybe if I break it down.
He took her there…as an act of rebellion, or maybe desire. First, he takes her there and pauses
for no apparent reason. He’s feeling undecided, then bold, then horny. Maybe he’s been drinking?
The night was laced with words unspoken. If words are unspoken, how can they lace something?
And if the night is laced, does that explain the wild hallucinations I had after reading this story?
Had he brought her here for some unsuspecting reason? I thought he just figured
out why he brought her here? Apparently the author is as confused as I am.
She didn't want to know his motives…for they were the same as hers. So
all of this vague wondering is moot because this unknown woman doesn’t seem to
care why this guy has driven her to the rock quarry late at night? I hope whoever
she is, she checked the backseat of the car for axes.
I’m going to read this one more time.
No, this still doesn’t make any sense at all. None of these thoughts are even kissing- cousin
related. It would be more shocking and interesting if they were. I suppose I should move on now.
Sorry, I just have to go back. One more time.
No, this makes no sense at all.)
The lake was unusually calm…(what is it with these weird ellipses?) the stars (punctuation
here would be an option, try a comma) serenely bright. He beckoned to her, but she did not come.
(Would you? You’re out next to a large body of water with a guy that hasn’t told you why you’re
there. This is the beginning of urban myth. I expect to see a bloody hook showing up at any time.) She
stared towards the water instead. She undressed slowly as she walked…(These little pauses are bothering me…a lot.
And she’s staring at the water and undressing. She could be summoning the "Lake Pod People") wanting him to
relish in her beauty (with a side of fries.) . And he did… (pause pause pause) his eyes traveling up
and down her sleek body. Had the tiny sliver of a moon not been out he wouldn't have seen the glow
of her skin… (pause pause pause) the silkiness of her hair glistening between the soft apex (Bugs Bunny’s
voice speaks up: “Apex? Apex? Apex?”) of her thighs. (“Apex of her thighs” is not a flattering image, no
matter how you look at it.) Slowly she walked into the lake…(pause pause pause) each step creating waves
across the calm water. She paused halfway out to turn to him, her eyes softly pleading for him to (save her
from drowning? Not kill her with an axe?) join her. He could see her soul (and then, the Angel Gabriel told
him to shove her head under the water and the voices would stop.) …(pause pause pause) her every waking
thought was of him. (How does his weird aura-vision fit in with her every waking thought? The author is random.
There are pigs in the hollow. ) The depths made him shudder with pleasure. (This randomness made
\the readers shudder with horror. Depths? Depths of what?)
He tore at his clothes. (After all this pausing and shuddering and soul seeing, that’s pretty funny!) They
had become constricting…(pause pause pause, does the ellipse indicate trouble with a shoe?) yet he
couldn't remove them fast enough (“Yet”? “And”, I could buy. But if his clothes were restricting he
would want to get them off. “Yet” implies he doesn’t. Conjunctions are powerful things in the hands
of the uninitiated.) . He wanted to be with her…(pause pause pause) inside of her (Yes, they always do.) .
If he claimed her as his own this once she would never belong to another (Says who? This unknown
guy and what army? Shouldn’t we ask the woman? Or is he really going to hack her up with a meat cleaver?) .
She would remain as his lover for all eternity. (Or until Saturday. Whichever came first.)
He entered the lake hesitantly. It was chilly at first…(pause pause pause) not too cold, but cold
enough for him to enjoy the slight sting of the water, to relish the pain along
with the pleasure.
(Here’s another conflicting analogy. It wasn’t too cold, but it was cold. And apparently this
author has never experienced the miracle of “shrinkage”. Scientific fact: you put any penis in even
a chilly at first, pause pause pause, but not too cold, yet cold lake and that puppy shrinks
up and disappears at the speed of light.
The chances of woody in a cold, but not too cold, but cold lake: next to none.
It’s human anatomy. And Mulder is near 40. Most 18 year olds would have trouble
with this feat. If this is Mulder, he must be high on goofballs or something to manage this.)
She kept walking towards the deepness of the lake. (A sure sign she doesn’t want to have sex with him.
Woman walks away from man into cold lake. Nope. That’s pretty much it.) She was completely
submerged now. (Then, she drowned and this bad fic ended. Good night. Oh, wait. There’s more.)
Too much for his tastes. He needed to see her…(pause pause pause) to watch her as she walked in
the very center. (Very center of what? The lake? How deep is this thing? Are they in Salt Lake? ) For
the water would represent her…(pause pause pause) the very deepness of her soul. (The water would
represent her deepness? Her soul? Her foreign interests? Oh, it hurts my wee Swiss head.)
She paused as if sensing his thoughts.(How is this accomplished? She either is sensing his thoughts or not.)
How often had she dreamed of this night? (Ask her. She’s sensing his thoughts.) Would she run and hide?
(If she doesn’t, someone should.) No…(pause pause pause) she would wait for him to join her (in the freezing
cold lake) …(pause pause pause) wait for the inevitable pleasure that would arrive with her patience (and that would be what?
The ice cream man?) …(pause pause pause)
He approached her slowly (wading through the goo on the bottom of the cold, yet not so cold lake) …
(pause pause pause) his fingers dancing lightly over the soft skin of her back when he reached her.
She didn't turn (too horrified to be in this fic in the first place) …(pause pause pause) she didn't need to
it could only be him. (Embrace the semicolon, author! Embrace it!) But he teased her. He kept his larger
frame from touching her body (in the water? Would it make a difference?) …(pause pause pause) attracting
her to his warmth. (He leaves her to freeze to death in the lake?) She turned wanting more (not in this story) ……
(pause pause pause pause pause pause, more pauses, the tension must be building) so much more (Once again,
not in this story) . Yet he wouldn't get closer (knowing she’d feel his lack of erection from the
cold yet not so cold yet slightly cold yet not lake). He remained with his body not touching hers
(treading water apparently) …(pause pause pause) his hands running lightly over her skin. (But if his
hands are touching her, isn’t that part of his body touching her? Jamie, Jamie, Jamie. Are
you trying to kill us with this?!)
"I want you." (What a surprise.) she whispered softly…(pause pause pause)
sensuously.
"You want me for what?" he replied hoarsely. (Kudos to the author for a very
funny line. More kudos if it was actually intentional.)
"I want you to pleasure me as only you would know how." (Porn tapes and choking the
chicken? How else would he pleasure her? Like Walter Skinner?) Was her soft
reply. (Commas, not caps, author.)
"Then let me." (Do what? Pleasure her? Like only he knew how? Like
there was a question of this? It would be bad if he turned into somebody else.) His
lips covered hers…(pause pause pause) hard and demanding (His lips are the only thing
that’s going to be hard and demanding in this lake) . His hands focused on the one spot
that he knew would bring her pleasure. (And that was.............??? Description, author.
Description. It’s required sometimes. I take that back. For YOU, it’s required EVERYTIME.)
He pulled away as she began to moan and writhe under his touch (people moaning
and writhing in deep water could be a sign of shark attack.) . He moved
away from that pleasure point……(as opposed to the other pleasure point? Juxtaposition
is deadly in the hands of the inexperienced.) (pause pause pause) knowing
she would groan in disappointment. She didn't fail what was expected of her. (So
she knew to groan, or she groaned and he thought she would? It’s mind-bending.)
His hands moved lightly towards her back.
"What will you do for me?" he asked her softly.
(Leave this lake? There’s a start.)
"Anything…(pause pause pause) " she replied.
Their eyes locked...in the darkness he saw the reflection of desire in her eyes.
It mirrored his own..... (pause pause pause pause pause and while we’re here,
let’s talk logistics. If he saw the reflection of desire in her eyes, wouldn’t be his own?
It’s a reflection? Ergo....)
"Anything?" (Well, she can’t blow you under water. It would be a short lived
romance.) He asked more carefully this time (sacrificing all punctuation in the process.)
"Yes anything... (pause pause pause) just please... (pause pause pause) " He
asked no more. (He asked, but she said? Who’s talking? Why is this still going on?)
She was waiting and he would give to her the one thing she wanted most... (a reason for
being in this story? And, pause pause pause) the touch of another human being (Since
when is Scully a leper?) . His mouth descended upon hers again... (pause pause pause)
this kiss demanding so much more as his tongue invaded her lips and explored the depth of her
very soul. (Not to be confused with her throat. That is a demanding kiss. I hope it doesn’t demand
higher pay and a pony anytime soon.) He pulled her tighter into the embrace (still in the water. Was he
embracing her? I thought he had pulled away. Now he’s embracing? More pigs are in the hollow.) .
Had she had any second thoughts about what she was doing? It didn't matter... (I don’t know about
that. If she has any second thoughts, they could figure in. Especially since she may want to get
out of this weird lake. And, pause pause pause) she wanted him more than any other man she had
ever wanted before... (Well, author, why don’t you give us some comparison or some other
description to justify that statement instead of the usual pause pause pause?) and he was willing
to give into those pleasures (What pleasures? What? Where and how?) , to make her understand
the meaning of passion. (Making someone understand something like passion is risky.
Especially with a flaccid penis.)
Slowly his hands moved up from her back where he had been cradling her in his
embrace. (It stands to reason he’s embracing her if his hands are on her back,
unless she’s turned around, which at one point she was. We should have used this story for Twister.)
Her moans were uneven begging for more... ( “oh MULDER i WANT more”? And, pause pause
pause) yet too uneven to be deciphered (So if they are too uneven to decipher, much like this writing
style, incidentally, then she must be ooo and urgg -ing into oblivion. She could have her foot caught on a
log for all Mr. Passion-Teacher knows.) . She stayed within the embrace.... (pause pause pause) waiting
for the soft slide of his fingers... (pause pause pause, why is this here? Get on with it author. Write the sentence,
bad as it is, “She stayed within the embrace waiting for the soft slide of his fingers over the small of her back.”
See? That wasn’t hard.) over the small of her back... (pause pause pause) up... (His hands moved up, remember?
Now their down, now their up? Sort of like my dinner at this point.. And pause pause pause) slowly towards
her soft neck (He really is going to throttle her in the secluded rock quarry!) . She gripped him closer
into the embrace. (Are they treading water or something? Or is the lake deep or not too deep but deep all the same? )
She needed the contact... (pause pause pause) needed to feel the soft swell of her breasts against his chest. (Wait,
I thought she wanted him to teach her love? The author has no idea who these random people are. ) Still, he resisted the too close
contact. (He’s cradling her in his embrace and he’s resisting close contact? Author, make up your friggin’ mind!)
He needed her to want him more... (pause pause pause) needed her passion to overcome her very being.
(As apparently he’s some sort of necrophiliac.) She wouldn't stand for it though. Instead she ran her hands
slowly up his back... (pause pause pause) small circles... (pause pause pause) pressure here... (pause pause pause)
softer touches there. He stilled her hands with no warning... (How could he still her hands with no warning if they’re
running up his back? Is he double jointed? And WHY is there another pause pause pause here? Are you that
undecided about the story that you can’t use a period, author? It would seem that way from your writing.)
"No…(pause pause pause) you must remain still... (Well, pause pause pause, it’s underwater dominatrix fic!
Lucky, lucky day!) only when I tell you to move.... (pause pause pause) not before. Not after... (after what?
What does this mean? Maybe the pause pause pauses are a way of telling us to fill in the blanks of this story!)
" His voice was demanding… (pause pause pause) she would not disobey.
The desire for control was more overbearing than she had imagined, she yielded
to the unsteady yet firm grip. (Unsteady but firm? Her desire for control? His control?
Author, even smut needs to make sense.) Her body ached with yearning and burned at the idea of his touch
(Ouch. Underwater too.) . His eyes clouded over with lust.
Like a schoolgirl wanting to be taken, (“Here Mr. Mulder is my idea of biology homework!” This last
thing borders on pedophilia, which is not only against the law, but quite icky.) she felt herself shudder
at the thought of his command, not the
tone, but the urgency that came with it. (Ok, schoolgirls shudder at
the thought of commands when they’re taken? But not the command, but the urgency not the tone?
Tons and tons of pigs in the hollow, now.)
He assumed that he had the control…(pause pause pause) but he was wrong to assume
(Because you know what happens when you assume? You make an ass out of u and me!
Oh right. Like I was going to pass that one up.)
His grip tightened then released her wrists (What? What? What? What? What? Stop using
the conflicting metaphors! In the name of all that’s holy, make some sort of decision!) . She would
listen…(pause pause pause) she would let him do as he pleased for now.
(This author needs to stop reading Jaqueline Suzanne and pick up a basic writing
text. What a smelly thing this is. And we’re only half way done.)
His hands began their journey from the small of her back again. (What is this with the back? All this
back-touching is implying embracing, but he’s not holding her. And they’re in a lake for Pete’s sake. A lake!)
She closed her eyes at his renewed exploration. He would not make her wait to long (or even “too long” unless
she was waiting to long and of course that would lead to what is she longing for? Oh this is giving me a bad
case of gas.) …(pause pause pause, oh this is where I can fill in the blanks! “For a towel and a way out of this lake.” )
of that one fact she was certain (We have the pauses to prove her certainty. Maybe they’re there to show thought.
Or maybe the author just didn’t know what they were doing. Yes. I’ll go with the latter.) . What he promised would
eventually come to pass. (Like a gallstone.) The night would remain their friend…(pause pause pause) the morning
would only come after they had exhausted their bodies.
(It’s just my take on it, but I think the morning will come any way about it. In fact, I wish the morning Godspeed
as it would mean this fic would be over. And the night being their friend? What’s that about? Oh, what a piece
of utter crap this is.)
The gentle pressure of his hands forced her eyes back open. (Where were they? On her eyelids?) The
soft glide of fingertips along the top of her back now (didn’t help this fragmented sentence) . Their eyes
locked, both battling with words unspoken…(CLICHE ALERT!! And another meaningful pause pause
pause you could drive a Mack Truck through) words that would never be uttered, even in the veil of darkness .
There was too much at stake to voice their doubts.
(They have doubts? Maybe it’s because they’re standing naked in a cold lake, back-touching each other into
oblivion. Or maybe it’s because they know how ridiculous this over-stylized, pretentious writing is.)
He watched her face as his hands slid along her collarbone. (They’d snap like twigs under his touch. Neato.)
Her lips were parted slightly…(pause pause pause)
her eyes half closed. He was staring into those eyes,
the eyes of temptation (Excuse me? A question? Just a little thing, really. How can he stare into eyes half-closed?)
…(pause pause pause) and felt the fall of his restraint. (Quickly, Gentle Readers! Grab his restraint and we’ll
try to harness it to the author!)
He turned her suddenly. (I have no idea which way she’s facing at this point. If anyone else does,
please email me.) Pressing close to her back…(pause pause pause) skin against skin. She was
gathered against his hot pulsating body (His body is WHAT? And she’s WHAT? This is a thoroughly
disgusting metaphor.) . The cool water nipped lightly against the heat of their skin. (Cool water doesn’t nip.
And cool water at night for this long doesn’t make the skin hot. Or the phallus hard.)
"Is this what you want me for? (See? Even he doesn’t know.) To feel my body next to yours…
(pause pause pause) to feel the warmth of my touch?" (Because if not, I’m going to get out of this heinous
lake.”) His words were her undoing.
"No…(pause pause pause) I want more…(pause pause pause) I want your passion…(pause pause pause) I want…( "your love muffin."
pause pause pause) " A soft smile played over her lips as she realized what he wanted to hear. (Which is, by the way,
what I hope she wanted to say.) "I want you inside me…"…(double pause pause pause this must be a
big tension filled moment.
And, the words, trite pause pause pause hackneyed pause pause pause and cliché
come screeching to mind. This just went from bad pause pause pause to worse.)
His lips trailed over the soft skin of her neck……(pause pause pause pause pause pause) as his hands traveled lower.
Her back arched towards the renewed touch. The gentle massage sent chills down her body……(pause pause
pause pause pause pause) the stroking of his fingers sending pleasure throughout her. (Where are his fingers? She
should check. That could just be a big walleye.) And still he waited……(pause pause pause pause pause pause this
simply doesn’t work at all. Learn punctuation. Used as a tool, it can make a story wonderful.) running his hands over
the tops of her breasts but no further. (But his fingers were elsewhere? Is Mulder channeling Shiva, the eight armed
goddess of Hindu mythology?)
Patience was lost. (Mine, yours, the characters.) She needed to feel his touch all over. Her hands caught his
and led them to the hard tips of her breasts. (I thought they were there in the first place?) Her moans showing
her state of arousal (While you're at it, Jamie, learn verb tense too.) . Heat rippled under her skin (what are these
people? Keronsene heaters?) as she recognized the flush of sexual desire she hadn't felt in years. He was there
for her… (pause pause pause) holding her tightly against the hard frame of his body.
Her skin burned against his gentle touch…(pause pause pause) her heart pounding loudly…(pause pause
pause) the water alive around them (Maybe it will eat them.
Now that would be interesting.) . Her moans
of his name music from her lips (to her? To him? Why are they music? Description, author, description!!) . His very touch
sending little stabs of current down her abdomen to the very center of her desire. The sensation was incredible.
His burning hard-on (NO. He’s been in this lake long enough, he may never see his dick again.) pressed against her,
her breasts tingling against his palms. (Does she have some sort of current running through her? They do run power-lines
underwater sometimes.
Stop the bus. Swiss Witch needs a time out.
No. No hard on. No Kero-Sun (tm) people. If they are some sort mutant electric eel-humans to generate all this heat,
hopefully the water will short them out.)
She would submit to this man…in every way possible. (And how would that be? Description author! My patience grows very thin.)
He would see her for who
she was, for what she needed most of all. (And by submitting to him, that would show him this how?
It’s not enough to spew generalizations. Write a story, not just a cliché laden spew of generalized pabulum.) And that is exactly
what he wanted
from her. There would be no turning back now… (pause pause pause) if they ever had that choice at all.
(Heave. Yurk.)
His hands traveled lower…(pause pause pause, please take these out.) as he knew she needed the contact. She was
asking for more but he was reluctant to give in…(pause pause pause, because he knows he can’t deliver in a cold lake.)
reluctant for the time to pass to quickly (Or even “too” quickly?) . Her knees grew weak with his touch…(like it would
matter while standing in water. Or they may be weak from treading water. We never did figure out how deep this lake was.
Pause pause pause) until he was holding her up with his arms that were wrapped around her. (Bad sentence structure. Get a beta.
Get two. Hell, get a dozen.)
Fingertips danced lightly over skin…(pause pause pause) hers on his arms…(pause pause pause) his on her soft core (SOFT CORE? Would that be her liver?) .
The
shudders erupted within moments. (It sounds like a volcano. “This morning The Shudders dumped molten lava all over downtown Seattle.”
Shudders shudder. Eruptions erupt. They are two different ideas. Choose one. Either one.) Her body spasming to the tune of his fingers.
(His fingers are singing a tune? For Scully's sake, I hope it's not "Camptown Races". And, while we're here, why is this a second sentence?)
She was his now…(pause pause pause) mind, body, and soul (If a woman’s orgasm is a sign of possession and possession is nine tenths of the
law, then many men don’t legally own much) . No one would affect her for the rest of her life as this man had. (And we know this how?
Because she had an orgasm? I don’t think so.) His mind had trapped her own until she could trust no other…(pause pause pause) see
no other person that would entrance her quite as much. (Behold the power of orgasm. Behold Mulder’s mighty fingering technique.
Behold the writing style of Jacqueline Suzanne. Behold, the power of cheese.) She turned to him now. Her body craving the
connection that only he could give her.
The gleam of his eyes reflected off her own. Desire mirrored back at her in
soft hazel eyes. (Once again, it’s the reflection
law. If she sees desire in his eyes, and it’s mirrored back at her, isn’t it her own?) A faint glimmer of love shining through the
dusky irises. He loved her? (No! Not love! This was just a quick feel up in a frosty lake. The Great Swiss Witch cries to
the heavens, "WHO ARE THESE PRUNED PEOPLE?")
The soft affirmative nod giving away more then they had ever hoped to
accomplish that night. (This is not a sentence.
It’s not really a thought at all. It has no tense. It has no reason.) She would reciprocate the emotion at a later date. (In
other words, she didn’t love him, but she’d get to it when she could? Scully’s dayplanner: Monday - salon appointment.
Tuesday - Love Mulder.”) There was no need for the spoken word. (Thank heaven for Gutenberg and the printing press.
They’d just go home and print up some fliers.) Both knew the consequences…knew the depth of emotion involved. (But not
the depth of the water or the endless hunger of “Rexie, Lizard of Nameless Lake”.)
She gave to him then. (Gave what? Was it time to love him? Gave him posies? Gave him a blow job? What, author?
This is not pithy. This is NOT romantic. This is just vague and pointless writing.) Sensing what he wanted…(sex must be
coming, the pause pause pauses are back.) sure that he would let her now. The soft slide of fingertips
on his erect shaft. (No. With as long as they’ve been in the water, she’d get more pleasure from a piece of seaweed.)
The deep intake of his breath. It was his turn for pleasure. His turn for her comforts.
Her hands ran sensuously down the hard shaft…(pause pause pause, yes, these have to do with sex, I guess.) his moans
betraying more then anything else. (I’m telling you,
she’s got some driftwood in her hands.) Standing on tiptoe, she
touched her lips to his. She pulled away, intent on the movement of her hands…(pause pause pause)
but he surprised her again. Pulling her back into the embrace, his demanding lips caressing hers with intensity (And
the bad verb tense award of 2000 goes to Jamie Tanqueray!) . She felt the heat…(pause pause pause, of the hot
Calypso beat? Of the sun? Of what? Once again, description is necessary.) felt the longing. He transferred it
into a searing kiss of desire. (Transfered what? Jamie, Jamie, Jamie. Get a beta. GET A BETA!)
They would end this charade…(pause pause pause) the years of holding back…(pause pause pause) the nights of
endless frustration. His hands captured his again (What does this mean? Please, for the love of all that’s holy, WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?) .
She looked at his gaze questionably…(pause pause pause)
did he not want her now? Had she disappointed him somehow?
(Good old self- deprecating Scully. She’s known for angsting over disappointing Mulder. Not.)
Of course not… (pause pause pause) his soft smile said as much. He just wanted more. Wanted the warmth that only
she could provide, and it was time. They both knew it
instinctively. His large hands encircled her tiny waist. She was
light in the
water…(pause pause pause) and out of it (What? Did he throw her in the air?) . He would do as he pleased…
(pause pause pause) with only her pleasure in mind. (But if he does as he pleases, then he can’t only have her pleasure
in mind. Can you see this author? One statement negates the other. Choose one, but you can’t have both.)
He lifted her to him…(pause pause pause) placing his hardness between her soft thighs. (Bad of Mulder to use
that driftwood.) She was more than ready. Her body needing to be filled (Commas are powerful tools for putting
together thoughts. Try them. ) . Together…(pause pause pause) they lowered her body onto his. (Sounds like work
for a crane, the way this is written.) Her body welcoming his …(pause pause pause) pulling him deeper with
gravity working for desire (That description is just wrong, weird and icky in both construction and intent.) . A
soft gasp capturing both their lips at this…(pause pause pause) their first joining in pleasure (And how have
they joined before, author? This implies more than one joining.) . Skin to skin, they were now as one. (But
not one? Just like it? But not so? In the cold, but not cold lake?)
Lips captured lips…(GOTCHA! And as usual, pause pause pause) the stillness of their bodies ever obvious
as each adjusted to this new height of pleasure. (The pigs have left the hollow at this point and have proceeded
to the elevator now.) The world around them becoming hazy with the strength of passion and love. (This is not a
sentence.) Nothing else existed, only this man and woman (comma) wrapped up in the tangles of lust. (And some
fishing line. I thought they were wanting passion and love? Now it’s lust? These are all different things.)
He moved her then. (Please let him pitch her across the lake, please let him pitch her across the lake!) Lifting
her gently… (pause pause pause) taking her to his very tip. (This is unsettling.) She would know the true meaning
of pleasure after tonight. (Apparently the head of Mulder’s penis must do some sort of special “woman pleasing” trick.)
She would know what it meant to be only desire. (Will I know what it means to understand what you meant by that last
sentence?) He would make sure of it, she would never be wrapped in frustration again. (My heavens, she used a
comma! Not only did she use a comma, she used it in two sentences that would have been better apart! In fact,
it would have been better if the second part about being wrapped in frustration had never been written. How is
some one supposed to become desire after being wrapped in frustration? Frustration cannot wrap anything!
It’s frustration! Believe me, I am well aware of it after reviewing this piece. The only thing frustration can do
with wrapping anything is make me want to wrap my hands around a certain author’s modem and yank it
clear from their machine to prevent fic like this from ever being posted again.)
Her body pulled him back into her warmth. (WHAT!?) Instinctively arching towards him to make it more
pleasurable for him. (not a sentence not a sentence!!!) But he couldn't hold out for long with the friction.
She wanted it that way… (pause pause pause) she would see that he would be hers forevermore. (Orgasm
must be a sign of possession in the bizarro world of Jamie Tanqueray.)
It was slow at first. Soft resistance of pain and pleasure. (Here’s this pain and pleasure thing again. Who’s in
pain? Who’s in pleasure? They’re fucking in a lake. Where does the pain come in? Is he pinching her? ) She
would cry out… (pause pause pause, when will it end?) her lips against his. (I can hear it now: "Oh Mmmfphf...")
He would groan(comma!!) his hands caressing her hard nipples with purpose. (As opposed to randomly?)
His hands moved away from those pleasure points. (comma, same sentence, small “w”) Wrapping around the
coppery strands of her hair. He needed her closer. Needed to crawl into her very being.
(The Manwich holds my hand while I puke from all this excess, pointless, badly written schmoop.)
The desire was too much. Speed ensued. He drew in and out of her warm
body… (pause pause pause, with what? Driftwood?) wanting to hear her cries of love…(pause
pause pause, wasn't "Cries of Love" the theme from Ice Castles?) needing something only she could
give. (He needs her cries of love? After this fic, we all need to cry, but not from love.)
She cried out for release. (From this fic, from the lake, from the log that pinned her in the mud.) Begging
him to take her to those heights that he had prepared for her. (He prepared her orgasm? I hope he knows
she likes them medium rare.) But it wasn't enough. (Of course not.) Their bodies emotions too intense.
(I think you forgot a verb. Oh here it is. "WERE". And I think, author, bodies don't have emotions. Minds
do. I think you misused a word. Try "sensations". ) He helped her then. Running his fingers down her chest …
(pause pause pause he stuck his finger into her breastbone and skewered her heart. Her eyes were grateful
as she looked up at him. "Thank you for saving me from this bad, bad story. Find Jamie Tanqueray and
stop him/her, next.") into the point of the joining (There's drywall in this lake? Hope they brought some
joining tape.) . A flick of his finger and her felt her shudder. (Flicking hurts. If he flicked her luv button,
she should punch him. Hard.) She would need more…(pause pause pause) but not much.
(But more? But not?)
His fingers pressed into her…(OW pause pause pause) adding pressure to softness in just the right
place. (Oh just come out and say he was fingering her. Good God Almighty.) He pressed his hardness
into her. (What hardness? All night in a cold lake. WRONG. It cannot be stressed enough.) Feeling the
soft shudder of her around his body. (This isn't a sentence, even if you want it to be.) She was gone now.
(It's so like Scully to swim off after orgasm.) His name on her lips…(pause pause pause, "Marco!"
"POLO!" "Marco!" "POLO!") carrying across warm empty waters, (if water is empty, it's not good
for humans to swim in it. Are they near a reactor by chance? ) into the darkness of night. The pleasure
exploding before his eyes. (This isn't a sentence either, nor will it be one when it grows up. It has been
content starved and is too weighed down with cliché for it ever to reach puberty.)
She had become one with the night sky. Her body shattering into the
stars…(Are you SURE they aren't near a Nuclear Reactor? Oh and pause pause pause) joining them
among space. ("Damn, it's good to be finally out of that lake," she thought.) One more thrust and he
was with her. (Is this Cape Canaveral?) Gathering her body close to his. God and praises of love on
his lips. (HA HA HA HA HA HA!! The Swiss Witch wipes her eyes with laughter.) Moaning her name…
(pause pause pause) the echo of his spilling from her soft mouth. (His what? Wait, I don't want to know.)
The water rippled around the couple. The chosen spot of contentment was now
a safe haven for them both. (Eeg, this is bad.) They need not worry if they were alone…(pause pause pause)
for no one knew of this hideaway. (Yes, it would be bad, albeit more interesting, if the gunmen were watching
this entire time.) Her body calmed down…(yes, I see you’ve given it the pauses to do so pause pause pause)
his following closely behind. (His what? Once again, I don't want to know.) Their lips meeting (MET, not meeting!
Not unless you use a comma and continue the sentence.) for a soft kiss on contentment. (On contentment?
Uh, author, I just have to ask, were you drinking when you wrote this? Experiencing an episode?
What's the deal?)
Her body was gleaming… (underwater? There is a reactor around here, I'm sure of it.
Oh, and pause pause pause) the soft rays of dawn invading the night of pleasure. (Yay! The dawn is coming!
This story will end soon!) She moaned with discontent.
(She's probably just being polite. I'm
sure she wants this story to be over more than even we do) They had lost the cover of the night.
There would be no more pleasure this evening. (Well, actually, there could be pleasure this evening,
because technically it's the next day.) They had work to finish…(pause pause pause) cases to solve.
(Hey, if I was these two, I'd want a trip to the Waffle House before getting back to work. And maybe
some radiation treatments from this icky glowing, heat-radiating lake.)
But his eyes told another story. ("Once upon a time, there were three bears...") He carried her to the
shore…(pause pause pause) pausing (yes, we know) to adjust to their still joined bodies. (He carried
her out of the lake still impaled on his wonderworm? Oh, THAT'S an attractive image!) They would
could be back…(pause pause pause) he told her without words. Only the night would harbor their desire.
(During the day, they would turn back into the emotionless drones they were known to be.)
She pulled away at the shore. (Shouldn't that be, "she un-straddled him at the shore?") Picking up pieces
of scattered clothing. (Comma, and let this sentence go on, mmmkay?) He watched her body…(pause pause pause)
sliding into one piece or another (Does she not want to put them all on?) of her clothes. (Hope she's shaking them out.
Sand fleas are a bitch.) The gracefulness was hard to resist. Her body screaming for him to touch
her… (pause pause pause) but he would deny the passion. (Right. Because the night was the only harbor
of their desire. This day thing is definitely off limits.) A well (hyphen) hidden love that only they could know about.
(If only they knew about it, it would therefore be well hidden. Redundancy should be a crime in
many fanfic genres.)
She turned to him then. Hazel Green eyes clashing with Blue. (Next week on WWF pay per view,
Skinner Brown vs. Krycek Green!) The love was immense… (pause pause pause) the desire unmistakable.
Words forming on her lips now…(pause pause pause) expressing the depths of emotions. ("Ugh, Mulder. Desire in
Lake. Cases on land. Fire good!") He turned to dress before she could utter them. (What?) No time for the
admission…(but there was still time for a pause pause pause) no time for that truth.
(The Swiss Witch raises a timid hand from the back of the room.
"Excuse me, Mr./Ms. Tanqueray? Um, isn't Mulder the one that's really hot across the board to find out the
truth? Doesn't it seem a wee bit odd that now, when this bizarro Scully wants to admit her feelings,
Mulder is turning away like a cheap one night stand?"
There is a deafening silence from the front of the classroom. The Swiss Witch checks her class schedule
and finds out she should be in "Well Written Fic" down the hall and instead has sat through "Ellipse
Abuse in Bizzaro Water Bodies 101" and takes her leave.)
But it couldn't be denied. (Poor Bizarro pruned Scully is going to throw herself at oblivious water-clogged Mulder.)
She waited for him to get dressed…(pause pause pause, this must be Mulder getting dressed) watching him as he
slipped into the warm clothing. (His clothes would be anything but warm after lying on a beach all night. Are they
near some sort of volcanic activity?) His body moving towards her again. (But not his head. It stayed behind.) But it
was different now. Distant. (Hm. This is a "fuck and run" Mulder. Not desirable.) His arm now on hers…
(pause pause pause) guiding them away from this place of desire. ("Now, now, Scully. We must leave this
PLACE of DESIRE and go to the PLACE with CASES to SOLVE. On the way, we'll get a BURGER of
CHEESE and GAS for the CAR.")
But she wouldn't let it happen. She waited for his stare…(pause pause pause) waited for the questioning
glance. (Ok, author, which was it? You put the pause there to help you figure it out. We deserve ANSWERS!)
When it came she almost lost the nerve. "I love you……(pause pause pause) I always have."
(Oh for heaven's sake.)
His eyes more intense……(pause pause pause, please use verbs. They help you. Working words, remember? )
not shocked……(pause pause pause) but confused. "But I knew that already. Just as you know that I love you."
(The Sandwich pats the Swiss Witch on the back as she hurls fine imported chocolate once again.)
Her soft smile lighting his heart. (Tense is important! If you used "lit" instead of "lighting", this really would have been a sentence.)
She was happy. She needed the confirmation. (Poor uncertain Scully.) Needed to know he wanted her.
He smiled briefly glancing back towards the morning sun. It had come out even further…(pause pause pause)
now lighting the sky with orange and red. (This was almost a sentence. Granted, we're
towards the end. Maybe the author got the hang of this writing thing.)
She followed his gaze…(searing her corneas, pause pause pause) then turned back
towards him. "Tonight?"
He smiled again…(pause pause pause, this SO doesn't need to be here.) confirming her beliefs. Passion
(comma) once shared would never be withheld again.
(HURP. Blooey.)
They turned away…(pause pause pause) leaving secrets and darkness behind.
(Actually they left a messy lake and the sunrise. Which would negate darkness.)
End----
(thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou.)
Ratings
Evilness
Rating:
5
I think it's safe to say we
all probably have an idea of how I feel about this piece of writing.
It is pure evil, not only from the hackneyed, sappy plot but from some of
the worst fragmentation of sentences and ellipse abuse ever inflicted on a poor,
unsuspecting word processor.
Who ARE these people?
5
Because, as Jamie proudly states in the beginning, she doesn't use names in the entire piece, I have comforted myself
with the thought that maybe this isn't really Mulder and Scully in the first piece. I have no idea who these people are
and I'm fairly certain the author doesn't either.
I speech goodly
The sentence fragmentation alone gets Jamie 5 hourglasses of shame.
I R a gud speler
1
He/She did run their spell check.
GAK-o-Tron
5
My stomach may never settle again after reading this.
Laziness Quotient :
5
Cliché laden laziness everywhere. Not an original thing in the whole piece.
And your point was...?"
5
To quote the Raging Tundra: "There was going to be an orgasm, so there was an orgasm."
No point at all in this whole thing.
General Evil ranking:
This story broke the evil meter. It is off the scale.
Witches Wild Card:
I would never tell an author not to pick up the pen again, but in this case, I'll make a slight exception.
Jamie, until you learn how to use ellipses, maintain verb tense and finish sentences, don't hit the send button.
For all our sakes. Please.
