'Nonny Miss, New York: August 1998, Tunnelcon V
| Fanfiction | |
|---|---|
| Title: | 'Nonny Miss, New York: August 1998, Tunnelcon V |
| Author(s): | anonymous |
| Date(s): | August 1993 |
| Length: | |
| Genre(s): | het |
| Fandom(s): | Beauty and the Beast (TV) |
| Relationship(s): | |
| External Links: | |
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'Nonny Miss, New York: August 1998, Tunnelcon V is a self-insert metafic with some magical realism by an anonymous fan.
It takes the form of a con report and speculates one future for Beauty and the Beast (TV) fandom.
The fanwork was printed in Lionheart #7.
Some Hopes Expressed for This Imaginary Con
- fans would get their long-awaited movie
- fans could see the lost scenes that were never shown, the ones that were better and more satisfying than what was aired, plus, each fan was given a video tape of these scenes (perfect for vids)
- PTB and other actors from the show freely mingled with fans
- the PTB were super appreciative of fans and their efforts
- so many fans came to this convention that over a thousand had to be turned away
- smokers and non-smokers segregated themselves
- the con was a WEEK long
- there were delicious snacks and drinks
- everyone got along
- Vincent Wells turned out to be a real person, not a character, and he attended TunnelCon
- the author of this con report got to have a lot of sex with Vincent
Excerpts
Sometimes it's hard to believe that we're still together after all these years. But we survived, we endured, and last September, on the tenth anniversary of the show's TV debut, our patience was rewarded. We got our movie! And it was well worth the long and sometimes lonely wait. There was something in it to please everyone and the movie's end was a new beginning. (Beauty and the Beast 2 should be released on January 12, 1999.) Everyone involved with the film's production kept a code of silence. Nothing about the story was leaked in advance of the movie's premiere.
Those of us who had continued to print our fan publications, kept our fan communities just barely alive and refused to abandon the light of our dream were invited to the wrap party. As a token of appreciation for all that we had done, we were given a videotape of all the scenes which had been filmed for the original episodes but which had not made the final print. These weren't bloopers (although we did get to see them at a private screening), these clips were truly the unseen" Beauty and the Beast that most of us thought should have been shown on TV. Ah, the music videos that were created from those clips!
The cast and crew mingled with us, new friendships were formed. They made us feel as though we really were a family. It was like a dream, only better.
And now, here we all are at the fifth TunnelCon! Two thousand fans made it before the registration closed, leaving another 1,500 who were only able to visit the dealers room and art show on a separate day. This time the con is running for a week, and I know it still won't be long enough to do and to see and to buy everything. But the past conventions had taught us how to measure time in another way. Hadn't we already proved that in any given 72 hour time span, four hours of sleep was all that anyone really needed?
And this time, too, as has become our custom, our group-within-a-group gathered together one evening for our annual literary panel discussion. But this year we had a very special guest join us. Everyone thought that he was just another pseudo-Vincent, one of more than 50 costumed and made-up men (and women) who had been circulating throughout the hotel for the past few days. Everyone but me, that is. This Vincent was special and had agreed to attend our discussion group as a favor to me.
A roomy and comfortable suite was our gathering place. Beverages and munchies were in abundant supply. By unspoken agreement, smokers and non-smokers segregated themselves, windows were opened, tape recorders and camcorders set up, and our evening was ready to begin. Several works were presented, some old favorites and some new discoveries, recently written stories that blended quite well. None of us were shy when it came to expressing our opinions and offering insight about the stories which were being discussed. Vincent" had seated himself next to me, much to the chagrin of a few others, and as the evening wore on he became the major contributor, almost as though he had really experienced much of what had been written. We had a marvelous time, hardly noticing the hours that had flown by, when the sky began to glow with the pink and gold of early morning. It was time to end, and time to unmask "Vincent." He stood up, turned back to face the wall and peeled off his mask. When he turned back to face the room, I gasped, "You aren't Ron! You really are Vincent!"
"Yes, I am Vincent, but it has been your love and support for all of these years which has made me real. All of you have contributed to the miracle of my reality. And once you are real...well, all of you know the rest of the story. Thanks to you, my story, which is yours as well, will never die. Your love and devotion to the dream we all share, no matter what form that dream took for each of us, brought me here to you today. It has been your total and unconditional belief in me that has made it possible for me to walk freely among you, without fear. The triumphs and the tragedies we have shared these past years have made us strong. We will endure."
Vincent walked among us, with a hug, an embrace, a few softly spoken words to everyone. When he returned to my side, his finger lifted my face up to look into his eyes. There was an overwhelming feeling of peace and happiness radiating from him. He gently wiped away a tear from my cheek and touched his Ups to mine. When his tender kiss ended, all I could think of to say was, "More, please?' Gentleman that he is, he obliged. I was stunned. All of us were. For a long moment, nobody said a word. Finally, Vincent took my hand and bade everyone goodnight.
We strolled hand in hand to my room. I had no idea that for Vincent the night was not over. "Aren't you going to invite me in? he asked. Sure didn't have to twist my arm to get me to agree.
Modesty forbids me from relaying the details of what happened next, but we missed all of the day's activities.