The Love Hexagonal

Disclaimer: The Author/Director is fighting for the Gay Rights Commission Act to be brought to review. Hence, his use of gayness and his method of portraying the Gay in this post/movie is extreme and and can be considered unfit to be watched by .... anyone ?!



The 'hip' city of Las Anjale was witnessing shock for the first time, 'hip'pie style. A group of hippies had just moved into town, but one of its members, mancarhip, as they called him was feared. Word spread like wild fire that the half-human, half-car,half-hippie was roaming the streets of L.A in search of female flesh. The girls were all alarmed and showered their boy friends with abuses if he had a car and was thinking about driving her places. They would rather prefer walking. It become a trend in itself that any outsider who came to L.A was astonished by the 'fitness frenzy' in the city.

And our hero, M.S. aka Mancarhip was the source of all this. He wasn't welcome at any public event or place. Everyone hated him. Women would just run away shreiking in anxiety, as if they had just seen a cockroach !! M.S. became a sad panda...oh sorry...sad car. His engine was on the verge of irreversible collapse and his rpm had reduced to barely a few per min. He was so dejected, he often would fuel himself with high octane petrol and get high !! M.S. was a broken man/car. He was unable to meet anyone, lest a girl to fall in love with, to hold doors open for, to travel to places with. He badly needed someone to play on his gear shaft, to hold his steering wheel, to pat his seats or atleast to bitch-slap his bumper. But no, he wouldn't be able to find one. Or so it seemed until that fateful day. The day they call in history classes now as, DoomsDay.......



It was a bright morning and one of the days when M.S. had to rush to make it before anyone at the Kaapi place or else he wouldn't even be allowed inside. After having inhaled some high octane petrol, he was off to the kaapi shop. He always felt good on kaapi. And there he waited for his Kaapuchino to arrive when Carlos entered the place. M.S. knew Carlos was gay and hence became alarmed. High as he was, he looked more alarmed that he was. And Carlos could see it. He could see M.S.'s entire engine through his head-lights. It was clearly visible.

He made his way to where M.S. was parked and sat next to him.
He said,"Wassup, Musty."

"My name is Mustang Shelby and Iam proud of it !!".
"Iam proud of you too."
"What do you mean ?". He grew even more alarmed and his eyes had become blood-shot by now.
"You have been through the most roughest of times, and still you stand straight, just like a gay man." He barely whispered the last part, and boy!, did he say it with such audacity regardless of the highly repelling smell that emanated from the half-hippie. He had driven the nail home.
M.S. felt he was shaken out of his stoned self and beaten to a pulp. He stood there looking amused, confused, worried. You could never say what he was feeling. He just stared on. It hit him then. Was he supposed to be gay? Is that why he hated blonds. Or was it because they were simply too dumb. Could that explain why he felt half relieved, half mad at why girls ran away when they saw him coming.



"You should have seen the look on his face", Carlos was heard saying to Macho at the Le Johnny Depp Club. It was where they had their weekly Tight(Pants)Club meetings.
No, not because they thought Depp was gay. Well, maybe it was.
The members started coming in for their weekly meeting. One by one, men started assembling in the Hall after uttering something that sounded like, "Hello I am queer and now I am here", which happened to be the week's password. The password however was useless since everyone knew everyone else. This could be due to the close contact. That particular week however, there were a lot of new comers.
The babbling, which had been on for quite some time now, in the Hall, was silenced by Carlos' movement towards the center. The crowd arranged itself around Carlos to listen to what he had to say. After all, he was the brain and the hind, be'hind' this.
Every week Carlos gave the rules that he and Macho had decided.
"Gentlemen, welcome to Tight club." Carlos had the attention of every man in the crowd.
"The first rule of Tight Club is, you talk about the Tight Club." Even the arrival of Champagne could be heard distinctly, as if it were talking for itself to the dumbfounded crowd in front of it.
"The second rule of Tight Club is, you talk about the Tight Club, so that more people can join and we all have more fun."
"The third rule of tight club, someone yells stop, goes limp, taps out, the tightness is over. So no more tighty tighty for you." The crowd laughs at this. One would wonder why any sane man would laugh at such a gay joke, probably also thinking at the same time if the guy who laughed at it was gay himself. Quite true, one would be, quite true.
"Fourth rule, only two guys to a Tight." And then came the retort, "Hey, what if I want a threesome ?" Carlos was becoming furious. "I don't want your sorry ass in here." "Are you sure you don't want it in there ?".They broke into a giggle. A disturbingly girly one at that.
"Fifth rule, one Tight at a time fellas." he continued as if nothing happened. The crowd laughed once more. They were indeed being gay (the happy type, I mean.).
"Sixth rule, no shirts, no shoes." "Well, what did you think, that we were fourth grade kids ?" And they laughed for this too.
"Seventh rule, Tights will go on as long as they have to."
"And the eight and final rule, if this is your first night at Tight Club, you have to Tighten."


......to be continued