Two Beauties and a Beast

Fanfiction
Title:	Two Beauties and a Beast
Author(s):	"Wendy Darling" (an obvious pseud, anonymous)
Date(s):	December 1991
Length:
Genre(s):	slash
Fandom(s):	Beauty and the Beast (TV)
Relationship(s):
External Links:
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Two Beauties and a Beast is a 1991 meta fic by an anonymous author using the pseud, Wendy Darling.

It was printed in the print zine, Once Upon Another Time. For a related fanwork, see Application for the Grand Poo-Bah Status in BEAUTY AND THE BEAST Fandom.

The story is told from Ron Perlman's point of view, who is the actor who portrays Vincent Wells, the Beast.

It is a cruel, scathing, over-the-top story of being attacked and sexually assaulted by two obsessed Beauty and the Beast fans named Jillie and Lettie. Perlman is then rescued by Vincent Wells.

It is a rare example of RPF as it mentions his wife, his daughter, Linda Hamilton, and his dog, Samson.

Some Context

"Two Beauties and a Beast" is a disdainful, angry RPF meta fic that scolds fans for their behavior and obsessions. It includes two fans sexually assaulting Ron Perlman. It is a very detailed polemic on the state of Beauty and the Beast (TV) fandom and fans. It reads like a meta open letter.

An example of a similar anonymous screed was the 1984 Star Trek: TOS flyer, Naked Doubles.

This fic feels very personal, calling some fans "manic depressives," "pathological liars," and violent. It cites examples (some of them rumors) of fan behaving badly: "Went through the dumpster at the Vernon set for 'goodies,' or stole them on location from actors' trailers when no one was looking.", "Sent distasteful "gifts (like dead roses) to cast/production office/network", "Made lots of money selling the home addresses/phone numbers of the stars of BATB to manic-depressive, fanatical fans, then headed the group driving off to park and stare at their houses."

Targeting Two Specific Fans

The writer also targeted fans who were involved in specific conventions: Fan-Out and Creation Con. While two of these fans were very likely Victoria Clark and Barbara Storey, the fic addresses many fans.

The author calls the two fans in the story "Lettie" and "Jillie," a purposeful jab at infantilzing them. They are described as "... a tall, slender redhead with blue eyes, angular features, and a lot of makeup; the other was shorter and a bit stouter with bleach-blonde shoulder-length hair and brown eyes. The best of friends, they had long been united by a shared fanatical interest in a certain television show." The author states that "They outweighed him. And they were plugged into a fan network of over 2,000."

Fans in general are described as having: "fat, wet lips," "substantial bosoms," "octopus arms," "sweaty hands," "very shrill voices," "limp-lidded, devoted looks," "very little tact," "greedy, wet fingers," "nasty, clutching fingers," "damp hands with long, spider-like fingers," and "sound like Miss Piggy with a hernia." They "hiss," "shriek with delight," "squeal with feminine triumph," have "sappy looks of devotion," and "frenzied throes of devotion." They are overweight and wear promiscuous clothing as they ask "stupid questions."

In his desperate run through the New York's Central Park, the author describes Ron Perlman "narrowly missing a male couple in a kissing clench on his left." -- desperation and weirdness in Central Park is complete!

Sample Text

The first [fan] was a tall, slender redhead with blue eyes, angular features, and a lot of makeup; the other was shorter and a bit stouter with bleach-blonde shoulder-length hair and brown eyes. The best of friends, they had long been united by a shared fanatical interest in a certain television show. They lived, breathed and thought of nothing except Him, their Beloved, Beastly Character. They'd saved for six months to afford this trip to NYC, and the stars in their eyes came not from seeing the Statue of Liberty, nor "Phantom of the Opera" on Broadway, nor from shopping 'til they dropped at Saks. Their stars twinkled for Much Bigger Prey: the D.A.'s office, the city jail, the carousel, certain drainage ditches and Central Park culverts, and a score of other locations previously seen only on Friday nights on Their Show. The two fans sighed in contentment as they walked, noses buried deep in the map in included in their copy of "In Search of Vincent: The Beasties' Guide to NYC" as provided by a fellow fan. Cameras were slung around each neck, and both were considering their next stop on the Central Park tour when they spied the man napping on the bench.

"My god--" the blonde hissed as they got within nine feet of him. Samson raised his head. "It is him." Shrieks of delight filled the still summer air. "RRRROOOOOOOONNNNNN PERRRRRLLLLLMAAMNNNNNN!!" Their screams knifed down his spine. On his feet and running before terrified blue eyes had properly opened, he didn't bother to take stock of where there was to run to.

Vincent's rabid fans were becoming a true nuisance these days.

For every two drooling devotees the actor met shaking their sweaty hands and repressing a shudder at the sappy look of devotion in their eyes for a character to whom he bore little resemblance -- there were a hundred more waiting in the wings. At times it seemed that they all were possessed of very shrill voices, very little tact, and if they caught him they could -- and probably would -- do him serious physical injury while in the frenzied throes of their devotion. What was worse, they seemed to be everywhere these days.

It appeared that a great many of the Beast's fans were ready to grab with greedy, wet fingers, never to let go. And they asked such stupid questions: "What's your phone number?" (You gotta be kidding.), and "Are you still married?" (Yes. Ecstatically married. Emphatically married. And, most thankfully, not to you.). Those were the clean queries. He'd had his share of women wearing blouses cut Down To There and skirts Up To Here, not to mention less-than-subtle propositions that would have embarrassed the most randy of

men.

Straightening his cloak, Vincent loomed over the two. If not for the friend portraying him on the screen, the Beast would not be here. And friendship did demand certain sacrifices.

"I do not understand," he addressed the two fans, brow furrowing beneath the hood. "Why did you approach that man as you did?"

"We love Ron!" Lettie piped up.

"We wanna be his friend!" Jillie pronounced, eyes aglow.

"You do not love him." The words came very quietly. "You frighten him with such fierce possessiveness. Your feelings are not loving. Nor are they friendly." Glittering blue eyes held theirs in the darkness. "If you loved him, you would protect him--from yourselves and your fantasies most of all. You would cherish his talent to bring me -- and other characters -- to life for you."

"We do protect him," Lettie insisted. "We do, too, love him!"

"You attack him," Vincent contradicted. "On every level of his life. You intrude wherever he may be without consideration for his feelings. A lesser man would long ago have abandoned the character and run away to regain his sanity. You touch him with greedy, unreasonable demands, devouring his energy and often giving nothing in return except words of censure -- as though the time and talent he invests in his work is not enough. He strives for his performance to be good each week, and this is the only debt he owes you. While paying that debt, he willingly places himself and his characters in the public eye, and you have managed to embarrass him in that same public eye.

"How can you claim to be his friend when you behave like this? How can you claim to understand or appreciate the principles upon which our world Below was founded if you can behave like this?" [The Beast asked].

Two sheepish faces stared up at him.

"If you truly wanted to be helpers to this actor or to the world Below, you would remember your manners. You would be responsible and polite. If you understood him or my world, you would not behave this way. You could not. Mr. Koslow and the others created a dream, and they were willing to share it. But your dreams do not appear to coincide with theirs. Your dream appears to be a shallow, empty fantasy of physical fulfillment that no one can fulfill. It is not the dream of a better world, a kinder world that the others shared. It is not a dream we care to share."

Sample Pages

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  from "Two Beauties and a Beast": "'Gotchal' came a squeal of feminine triumph from his left. A damp hand clutched his arm; long, spider-like fingers snaked around his wrist. 'You're so cute when you run.' 'Why do they always sound like Miss Piggy with a hernia? his weary thoughts rambled."

• Onceuponanothertime-5.jpg

  Two Beauties and a Beast": "'I wanna have your love child,' she breathed in his face, and he shuddered to realize that she was entirely serious. He leaned back on the grass as a pair of fat, wet lips came closer, closer, closer... Oh, yuck."