“Good!” I say with a smile.
Over an hour later I’m feeling quite content with Brooke snuggled up next to me as we watch some of my all-time favorite cartoons. As a kid I never caught some of the political comments, pop culture references, or racy gags because they were all delivered by a stuttering pig, wacky duck or smart-aleck rabbit. You don’t have to hit viewers over the head with such subjects. You just let them appreciate the subtle things they catch while watching, their kids not aware of anything but the funny story. This Sir Cocky the rapping rooster nonsense is destined to be heavy-handed and offensive—so what can be done?
And just then, an image lights up in my mind like those old comics where there’s a big light bulb over Felix the Cat’s head. What if we make the cartoon so bad and offensive that Arnold’s bosses trash the project? Given the already inappropriate idea behind the show, it wouldn’t be hard to take it down several notches. I toss the idea and potential problems around in my head until I feel certain this is an idea worth considering.
“Brooke!” I turn and realize she’s half asleep against me, so I gently rock her awake. “Brooke, I have an idea for our problem!”
She blinks her sleepy eyes open. “Really?”
“Yes! Are you awake enough to talk about it?”
She rubs her face briskly and sits up straight. “I am now!” Her expression is so bright and hopeful that I really don’t want to let her down.
“So I was thinking, I remember reading an interview with one of the original Looney Tunes directors and he said that they had a special technique of dealing with their network censor's constraints on adult humor.”
“Yes, and what was that?”
“This director said he would add extra footage throughout the cartoons with more obvious inappropriate humor. Nine times out of ten the censors would reject all the added racy stuff and leave the marginal stuff, which looked tame in comparison. So all that was needed was a quick re-edit and they were good to go!”
“And that actually worked?” she asks a skeptical look on her face.
“Well, most of the time. The funny thing is that there were a few times when the censors missed the real obvious stuff that was meant to be edited out, and it’s still in the cartoons today.”
“Wow!” she laughs, a big smile on her face. But her smile suddenly fades as quickly as it appeared. “But there is no way we can get away with that. Arnauld will be seeing early cuts before any censors do. He swears he is going to be hands-on with this whole project since it’s ‘his baby’.”
“But there will be a formal presentation for the corporate peeps, yes?”
She nods. “He’s already talked about that. They were already coming in May so it'll be then.”
“That explains the crazy tight deadline. But I’m talking about loading up the extra content to be seen by the execs first before the network sees it. That way they will certainly pan the series idea and we’ll never get as far as the network censors seeing it. It will already be dead in the water.”
“Oh,” she replies, her eyes light up at the sheer idea of it.
“See, if we plan it out like a bank heist and are very clever, we can do a last minute switcheroo before the digital projection for the execs. And doesn’t Arnold always show those test group results at these presentations? I assume he’ll be doing that too.”
Brooke’s eyes grow wide with disbelief. “And you’d show the test group the extra-racy version too?”
“Of course! Again, we’d have to time everything with extreme precision so that the results are presented mid-meeting.”
She gasps and slaps her hand over her mouth. “He will lose his mind. I don’t know, Nathan. This could backfire and we could all be looking for new jobs.”
I shrug. “Let him try. When word gets out about all the offensive material he was developing, the whole story will bite him in the ass. This is a media sensitive time in the world.”
“It is,” she agrees before letting out a deep breath and curling back against me. “You are so amazing, Super-Nathan. You give me hope that we can rise above this, and continue to do cartoons we are proud of.”
I kiss her on her forehead and pull her tight against me. “And we will,” I whisper.
After a few more cartoons Brooke is sound asleep against me and I’m dozing off too. In my sleepy daze, I feel her shift in her sleep and her hand ends up pressed against my chest. Her holding me only makes me relax more - but right on the edge of sleep, I feel her hand shift down until it’s resting against my crotch. You would think this sensation would wake me up. Instead, my overactive imagination leads me into dream land, where all my pervy dreams can come true.
My dreams tend to be highly cinematic, but this one is looking IMAX Theater-worthy. I’m up on a mountain but my view is obscured with the sun in my eyes. When I hold my hand over my brow to shade my vision from the glare, I see my curvy Wonder Woman on the edge of a cliff, her long hair gently waving in the wind. I take a step toward her just as she turns back to look at me. Her smile is warm as she reaches her hand out inviting me closer.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” she says as I approach her and pull her into my arms. Considering our super hero strength, we are gentle with each other as she pushes my stray curl off my forehead, and I stroke her cheek. With the next breeze my cape wraps around us and I pull her into a deep kiss. It’s a superhero-worthy kiss, and she sighs happily. When we finally pull apart, her hand remains below my waist where it had slide down just before we fell asleep, and her eyes blaze with passion.
That’s all the reassurance I need as I nod toward the valley below. “Are you ready?” I ask.
She takes my hand and we gracefully lift off in flight, soon soaring over clouds and the lush green fields. We pass waterfalls and forests dense with trees until I find the perfect spot for us to lie together. Moments later we are standing on a soft bed of grass with a tree shading us. She begins to slowly remove her Wonder Woman uniform and I watch eagerly as every inch of skin, every gorgeous curve, is revealed. Impatience kicks in though, and we begin to help each other, more anxiously. Once Wonder Woman has my tights pulled down I love how she grabs my ass and moans roughly. I’m pretty sure this is going to be a wild ride.
She’s gloriously naked when I lift her up into my arms and she wraps her strong legs around me. We can’t be bothered to remove her tiara and magic silver cuffs as I lower us to the ground. All I want is to fill her again, and watch my goddess come undone.
But before I do I tend to every part of her, devouring her mouth as she grinds against me, then kissing her neck, down to her perfect breasts where she cries out as I gently bite her nipples. When I spread her legs open even further and taste her between her legs, she winds her fingers into my hair like she’ll never let me go.
“Fuck me Superman,” she finally growls. And so I do. Each thrust pushes us into the earth. She rakes her fingers across my back, and bites my neck while thrusting her hips up just as hard as I’m thrusting my pelvis down. We are so amped up, I’m sure I could make love to her into the next millennium, but I desperately need the high of us coming together both spiritually and physically.
I sense she sees the desperation in my face, so when I start to groan, “I need…” she nods with a complete understanding because she needs it too. Her legs tighten against me and we desperately kiss as I thrust deeply into her. I sense the moment she starts to soar.