Star Trippers

"What's another word for the entrance to a woman's vagina?"

Artie Goodwin leaned back in his chair, glancing over at his friend Jack Frazier who was lounging on his couch. Artie's hands were poised over his keyboard prepared to begin typing again as soon as inspiration struck, or Jack answered whichever came first.

"Cum catcher? Hairy highway to paradise?"

"Can you think of something less vulgar and more romantic?"

"You write erotic fiction for some Internet porn site, and you're asking for sweet, romantic metaphors? I think you're overestimating your target audience."

"Don't be so harsh, Jack. You would be surprised how sophisticated and discerning my followers are."

"You're right, I would be," said Jack with a chuckle.

Artie spun around in his chair, turning away from the glowing screen filled with long lines of carefully considered words.

"You're just jealous because no one wants to read that pretentious stuff you write for the university web site. How many hits did your last story get a few hundred?"

"At least I'm not hunting for pussy metaphors while writing fan fiction about some defunct T.V. show."

"Star Trippers was a brilliant show. It was just a bit ahead of its time, that's all."

"Canceled after two lackluster seasons."

"Don't forget that it got a movie. The whole original cast was in it and they wrapped up the main storyline not a lot of shows can say that."

"Yeah, and how much did that movie make? I recall it was a total bomb at the box office. The few million nerds who cared showed up and that was it."

Artie was just about to launch into an impassioned defense of his favorite T.V. show when a knock sounded at his apartment door. When he pulled it open, he was greeted by the smiling face of his roommate, Dave Webster, who was so excited he was practically jumping up and down.

"Artie! You are not going to believe this, Pal! What a stroke of luck," blurted Dave his words spilling over each other in his haste to get them out.

"Calm down, Dave," replied Artie as he stepped back to let his friend into the room.

"I can't calm down, Man! This is just too cool!"

"What happened, Dave? You finally lose your virginity?" said Jack from the couch.

Dave wrinkled his nose, noticing Jack for the first time. In the year that he and Artie had been roommates the one thing that Dave had found difficult to put up with was Artie's friendship with Jack. The two had known each other since grade school, but Dave couldn't figure out how they had ever become so close. They were very different people, Jack, your typical jock type with his well-built physique and tanned good-looks, and Artie the tall, skinny nerd with his long hair and Van-Dyke beard. Their personalities mirrored their looks, Jack was bold as brass with a bravado that Dave found patently annoying, while Artie was generally soft-spoken and friendly if a bit shy.

"Funny, Jack. No, I just got Artie and me prime spots as guest liaisons at Space-Con 2019!"

Artie's eyebrows shot up, "Seriously? I heard they had filled all their staff positions."

"Even better I got us on the celebrity list to be handlers for the weekend."

"So you two get to spend your weekend kissing some C-list celebrity on their over-privileged butt cheeks? That sounds exciting."

Dave ignored Jack's comment, stepping closer to Artie and putting his hands on his narrow shoulders.

"The best part of all is I know who they're giving you. Helen Travers!"

There was a long moment of silence at this announcement before, "Oh...My God! I need to sit down."

Artie staggered over to the couch his face gone pale white, and he dropped to the cushions like a dead weight stunned by this turn of events.

"I'm guessing from the look on your face. This is good news?" inquired Jack.

"Good news? Don't you know who Helen Travers is? She played Lexi McCann, the hot blond head of security on Star Trippers. You know..."

"Artie's favorite show," finished Jack, "Yeah I know it. I didn't watch it myself though. I take it you had a thing for this Helen Travers?"

"She was kind of my first celebrity crush. When I was a teenager, I had a poster of her on the wall of my room."

"Wait a minute...I remember that poster. The blond chick with the big knockers in the green one piece," said Jack thinking back.

"That was her. She isn't a blond though they dyed her hair for the show. In real life, Helen Travers is a red-head."

"That show was a long time ago. I wonder if she is still holding up?" mused Jack.

"Oh! She is. They had a story on her in the last issue of 'Movie Fans' magazine. This is the twentieth anniversary of the Star Trippers movie," said Dave even as he leafed through a stack of magazines on the kitchen counter. He pulled one from the middle of the pile and flipped through it before handing the open magazine to Jack.

The page Dave had turned to contained a layout with an article printed on one side and a full-length photo on the other. The woman in the picture looked to be in her late forties with thick, curly red hair around a not unattractive face, slightly square with piercing hazel green eyes. She was sporting a faint smile that hinted more at annoyance than excitement at having her visage captured on film. The yellow blouse she was wearing in the photo swelled outward from her chest, barely able to contain the large breasts housed behind the straining buttons down its front.

"Not bad for an older chick," said Jack casually tossing the magazine onto the nearby coffee table.

"Not Bad? That's Helen Travers," said Dave as if just the name alone should answer any doubts.

"Yeah, I didn't say she was falling apart or ugly. Lighten up, Dave. She has a good body for a woman her age and a fine set of chest cannons. I wasn't disparaging the lady."

"You o.k. Artie?" asked Jack, noticing that his friend seemed to be almost in shock.

"Helen Travers..." he mumbled.

"I think we've established her identity. I can see this is going to be a big deal for you."

"It would be a big deal for any Sci-Fi fan," dropped in Dave.

"I'm guessing it won't go over very well if all he does is stare at her and mumble her name all weekend," observed Jack.

"What?" said Artie pulling himself back from whatever side trip his mind had taken.

"I was just saying it wouldn't look good for you to be star struck all weekend."

"I'll be fine. I was just caught by surprise, you know? I needed a minute to wrap my head around the idea. How would you like to suddenly find out you were going to spend the weekend around one of your childhood heroes?"

"I didn't jerk off in the shower to my childhood heroes, but I see your point," said Jack.

"It wasn't just that she was sexy in her uniform and stuff. She was a real pioneer for female actors getting strong action roles they usually reserved for men."

"I'm sure that's why you enjoyed watching her on the show, and why you had a poster of her in a bathing suit on your wall."

Artie turned slightly red in embarrassment but quickly recovered.

"I was a kid, o.k.? I truly appreciate her for all the things she brought to the screen, her great acting, how she added a sense of poise and dignity to the role. Her reserved style..."

"Her breasts that could be their own mountain range," cut in Jack.

"They didn't hurt, I admit," said Artie.

"As much as I would like to spend the evening chatting about old T.V. shows I have to get to work," said Jack smacking his knees with both palms as he stood.

"You two gentlemen enjoy your evening, and if I don't see you again before the weekend, wear a condom, o.k.?"

"Geez, Jack!" said Artie shaking his head.

Giving Dave the barest of nods, Jack vanished out the door leaving the other two men behind.

"I honestly don't know how you two ever became friends," remarked Dave in a puzzled tone.

"We lived next door to each other in high school. I used to get bullied at the bus stop quite a bit, and Jack took up for me. He had an abusive step-dad who ran out when he was twelve, so I think he had a thing about bullies. Anyway, we bonded over our shared love of writing. He was never a nerd really, but we sometimes bounced stories off each other."

"Since you mentioned it, how is your latest coming along?"

"O.K. I'm getting near the end. The biggest problem I have is keeping the sex interesting. The more of these I write, the harder it is to think up new scenarios and stuff. I mean there are only so many ways a man and a woman can get it on."

"I can see where that would be a problem, but given your wealth of experience on the subject..." said Dave letting the comment hang with a grin.

Artie crumbled up a piece of paper from the coffee table and tossed it at him, "Hey! I've had my share of sexual experiences, just none lately. It's been kind of a dry month."

"Month...Year...Who's counting?"

"I don't see you swimming in pussy over there, Casanova."

"Maybe I'm saving my virtue for Mrs. Right?"

"Would that be Mrs. Right-hand? If that's true, I don't think you're saving it."

"Screw you, Buddy!" shot back Dave with a laugh.

"Anyway, this is just a hobby. A way to blow off steam while I work on my novel."

"It's a pretty successful way to blow off steam though. Didn't you say you have more followers than anyone else on the site?"

"I think I just topped ten-thousand this morning. It's nice to have a loyal audience, and I appreciate some of the positive comments, but at the end of the day, writing erotic fiction isn't going to pay the bills."

"Maybe, but it's fun when your fans send you nude pictures of themselves."

They both laughed while Artie got up to save his story and log off the computer.

"You know they're giving discounts on hotel rooms at the Hilton by the convention center. It would be easier to stay down there then have to drive back and forth every day."

Artie nodded, "I agree. Did you want to share a room?"

"If it's, all the same, I think I see enough of you as it stands now. Plus, I might meet someone at the convention and need some privacy if you get my drift?"

"Sure, you will. Keep hoping my friend."

"How about some dinner? I'm starving."

"You buying?"

"Dutch treat! I need to save my money for the Con."

THE CONVENTION -

Artie had been to many pop culture conventions before, but always as a participant, this was his first time getting a look behind the curtain at how things were run. It was controlled chaos with young people in "Staff" t-shirts running to and fro all looking harried and nervous. He had reported to a room marked "Staff Orientation" and been issued a light blue shirt similar to the ones he had seen already. A burly looking guy not much older than Artie himself with a scraggly beard and prematurely thinning hair pointed him to a grouping of chairs in the far corner of the room about half occupied by patiently waiting bodies. Artie joined them taking a seat next to a short, blond-haired young woman.

"Hi. I'm Artie," he said, putting out his hand.

"Tina. Nice to meet you, Artie," she said with a hint of a southern accent.

"I hope I'm in the right place. Is this where they do the orientation for celebrity handlers?"

"Yeah, this is where we get our marching orders. It's the same spiel every year."

"So you've done this before?"

"Yep. This is my third year. It's the same speech, though. Be polite, don't speak to the talent unless they speak to you first, don't ask for autographs or photos..."

"You meet anyone interesting?"

"Last year I escorted Guy Hughes around for three days. You know? The actor from that 1970's show 'Beyond the Grave' about the detective that investigates paranormal stuff."

"I vaguely remember that show. I think my parents used to watch it. So what was he like?"

"Very hands on for an old guy, and I don't mean to just the fans. I spent half the weekend fending him off."

"Ouch! That doesn't sound like much fun."

Tina smiled. Artie liked the way it brightened her small pixie face.

"I've had better years. My first year I got to hang around the cast of 'Terror from the Deep!' They were a lot of fun, but the crowds were ridiculous."

"I'll bet. It was the highest grossing Sci-Fi movie the year it came out. I'm sure it still has a ton of fans."

"So what's your idea of a thrilling night of T.V."

"I'm big into 'Star Trippers,'" admitted Artie.

"It's a classic I'll give you that much. I think Helen Travers is here this weekend."

"You don't say," said Artie with a sly smile.

Their conversation was cut short when an older gentleman in a sport coat stepped in front of the group clearing his throat.

"O.K. folks I'm Barry West, and I'm going to keep this short and sweet. I see lots of familiar faces out there, so I know you've heard this before. This is for you newcomers! We will be pairing you up with your designated guest for the weekend shortly. Be polite and treat them the way you would want to be treated if your positions were reversed. You're there to make sure their weekend goes as smooth as possible. You escort them to their table, take care of their needs. Specifics can be found in your welcome packets that my assistant will be distributing here in a moment. The bottom line is don't go all fanboy or fangirl on me. I don't want to hear stories about how you drooled all over some celebrities shoes or begged them to marry you. Be polite, don't talk to them unless they start the conversation, and work with your line controllers to keep the crowd moving. At the end of the day, this is supposed to be fun for everyone."

The group in chairs rose up before Barry had even finished talking having been down this road before and ready to get started. Artie took a place in line in front of the assistant Barry had pointed out and was handed an information packet that contained instructions on handling the money and how to interact with the fans. He felt his heartbeat pick up a bit when he saw a bio on Helen Travers in his folder and a small scrap of paper revealing him as her designated handler for the weekend.

"Thank you, Dave..." he whispered under his breath.

"So who did you get?" asked Tina coming over to him. Artie had decided that she reminded him of a young Winona Ryder minus the dark hair.

"Helen Travers," he replied, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice.

"Isn't that fortuitous. I got stuck doing line duty for some pro wrestler I've never heard of in my life. It's the breaks we don't get to pick and choose. At least it gets me into the convention for free."

"There's always that."

"Maybe I'll see you around on break or something?"

"Oh...Yeah, maybe..." said Artie trying to tear his attention from a photo of Helen Travers. It was a publicity still from the first season of "Star Trippers" when she had still been wearing the uniform with the super short skirt. The rumor was that Helen had raised a ruckus about a security officer running around in an outfit that looked like she should be wearing it to a cocktail party, and the writers had subsequently made sure she was put in a more fitting uniform for her job. Still, it was hard to complain about how nice her legs looked in the original outfit.

Tina sensed that she had lost him, and she walked off with a patient smile.

"Hope meeting your hero doesn't disillusion you," she said over her shoulder as she walked away.

Disillusioned? Artie could hardly imagine that happening.

The convention doors weren't set to open for another hour, so Artie made his way into the big hall surprised at how cavernous it seemed empty of the usual crowds. The autograph area where fans would gather to meet their favorite actors and actresses was at the far end of the building. The space was filled with tables placed near to each other with tall curtains behind each that parted in the middle creating a safe space where a celebrity could gather their thoughts before coming out to face the crowd. The tables had been arranged in a "U" shape with the curtained areas facing the walls or into real estate that had been roped off from crowd access.

Artie spotted the Star Trippers logo on a banner above one of the tables with a large photo of Lexi McCann, A.K.A Helen Travers, emblazoned across the bottom. The top of the table was covered in piles of publicity photos of her taken from various episodes of the show. The fans could purchase one of their choices and get Ms. Travers to sign it. A placard next to the piles stated that autographs were forty dollars, selfies thirty, or a combo for fifty dollars. It sounded infinitely reasonable to Artie.

Behind the table were two chairs, and Artie picked the one closest to the photo's assuming he would be the one taking the money and helping the fans along. The picture near to him was of Lexi McCann holding a ray gun and looking fiercely at the Vorkonnien warrior she was about to vaporize. It was from one of his favorite episodes of Star Trippers, and it brought back fond memories for him.

"Can you believe this shit! How awesome is this!"

Dave's enthusiastic voice pulled his attention back to the present, and Artie gave his roommate an appropriate grin.

"It's all that and a bag of chips! Who did you get paired with?"

"Get this...Roger Fremont!"

"No way! The star of 'Time Hunters!' That guy is a legend. He was on it for like fifteen seasons, wasn't he?"

"Yeah. We are sure to draw a crowd."

"I guess that's why they gave you guys that big booth at the back."

"I have plenty of help too, like four people just to work the lines and make sure everyone keeps their cool."

While they were talking, Tina walked by and gave Artie a wave which he returned.

"Cute girl," said Dave appraisingly, "you meet her at orientation?"

"Her names, Tina. She seems nice. We didn't get much of a chance to talk."

"She reminds me of a young, blond Winona Ryder," commented Dave.

"I know, right?"

"Maybe you should make a move?"

"I don't know. She isn't my usual type," said Artie shyly.

"A cute nerdy girl isn't your type? Since when?"

"I'm better at writing about picking up girls than actually doing it."

"Nothing ventured, nothing gained, my friend. What have you got to lose?"

Artie shook his head uncertain, it wasn't like he had never dated, but it had been a while, and he was sorely out of practice not to mention naturally shy around girls anyway.

"Why don't you ponder it but don't wait too long. Girls like her get snapped up quick in places like this, if you don't talk to her some other nerd is bound to take your place. I need to go! Good luck!"

Dave went on to the Roger Fremont booth leaving Artie to his ruminations.

The time for the convention to open arrived quickly, and though he couldn't see the main doors from where he sat, he heard the chatter of voices as people streamed in to fill the venue. Artie sat straight at his booth and waited patiently for a queue to form before the guest of honor arrived. A short, plump looking Hispanic kid named Hector joined him at the table. He was wearing a staff shirt like Artie's, and he explained that he would be handling the line to make sure there was no cutting and everyone behaved themselves. A few people drifted over toward his table, getting in line for Helen Travers and Artie shifted nervously on his chair.

"You'll be fine, I've done a dozen of these and never had any problems," said Hector noticing his nervous demeanor.

"I'm glad one of us has experience," said Artie looking at his watch, "shouldn't she be here by now?"

"When is a celebrity ever on time," said Hector with a laugh.

Twenty minutes later, they weren't laughing so much. The line had grown considerably by then, and people were starting to get a bit restless. At the other tables, celebrities of various stripes were scratching their signatures on photos and memorabilia or standing up to take pictures with their adoring fans, but at the "Star Trippers" table things were quiet except for the grumbling of a line of unhappy fans.