A Man For All Seasons

By Chrissy

My brother was abducted by aliens. They took him up to their spaceship and he was gone for more than a week. Of course, no one believed his story. But I did.

I believed him because, upon his return, my brother was a changed man. Totally changed. They had played with his head, you see. Injected a super sized intelligence or something like that. Here was a man whose VCR flashed 12:00 for years and, when the aliens had finished with him, he could build a computer from the ground up. These days he's working on a time machine.

My brother and me were close. Our parents died when we were young and our Aunt Shirl raised us. We were not particularly loved in that house, but we wore clean clothes and we ate good food. Still, we weren't loved. We didn't get hugged. We didn't get affection. But we had each other and that was all that mattered.

I'm 31 years old now and a real estate agent. My brother bummed around. He played in a rock band for a while. He did this, he did that. He was never really successful until the day the aliens got their hands on him. Now he's some kind of big cheese in a secret project with the government and earns a small fortune. Anyway, this story isn't about my brother. It's about the fabulous computer he built for me. A device that has changed my life completely.

Ever since I saw the movie Desperado, I have been an out-of-my-mind fan of the Spanish actor Antonio Banderas. With the help of the Internet I have learned everything there is to know about this gorgeous man and I have acquired a copy of practically every film the actor ever made - and he's made a lot of them, believe me. I just adore him. I cannot get enough of him. I think about him day and night. I guess you'd call it an obsession, but it's a nice obsession. It makes me happy.

Before the aliens got him, my brother used to poke fun at my love for a movie star. His teasing was relentless. But he understood when he fell back to earth. The aliens made him nicer, I guess.

I think he wanted to make amends for all the teasing he put me through. His eyes held an extra sparkle the day of my birthday. He gave me a thousand dollars and an airline ticket. He told me to go to Florida for a vacation. He said he would have my REAL birthday present waiting for me when I returned. I felt strange leaving him in my house. What was he up to? I wondered.

Tanned and relaxed I returned to find a weird machine sitting in my bedroom. A computer screen and a keypad were connected to a large cylindrical cubicle made of some kind of dull silver metal.

"What the hell have you done?" I stormed at my brother. He only smiled in response. "Welcome back, sis" he grinned his toothy grin.

I ranted at him for a bit. My house was a total mess. But he took my hand and led me to this strange device that took up the whole wall of my bedroom.

"Who's your favourite Antonio character?" he asked.

I stared. "Why, El Mariachi, of course."

"Which scene is your favourite?"

"You know which scene. I've told you a dozen times. It's where he wakes from the dream. Buscemi comes into the motel room and tells him about the Tarasco bar."

With a smug grin my brother tapped on the keys. "What are you doing?" I asked. "Just hang on a sec, sis. It don't take long."

"What doesn't?" I inquired. "This," he replied, holding out his hand and pointing to the cylindrical compartment. It seemed to hum and glow and then a section of it opened and out stepped El Mariachi. He was exactly as he appears in the scene in the motel room. You know the one - A two-day stubble covers his cheeks, his hair is wild, his eyes are beautiful in their torment.

He seemed real. Alive. 3-dimensional. I began to shake.

El Mariachi looked around, he saw me and smiled. My knees buckled and I almost fell to the ground. I turned to my brother, my central nervous system in disarray. "Have you hypnotized me?" I squeaked. "Am I dreaming? He looks real."

"He is real."

I stared again, my heart pumping. "It's an apparition!" I argued.

"No, no. He's real. He's flesh and blood. Go touch him."

I shrank back. "No way."

"Hey, Mariachi," my brother called to the apparition. "Come over here. My sister wants to meet you."

A soft smile on his lips, spurs and chains jingling, the entity strode across the room toward me. He walked with that graceful, sure-footed motion that is so unique to Antonio. He held out a hand, and before I knew what was happening he had taken my hand in his. He raised it to his lips and I felt a soft kiss. He kissed both the back and the palm of my trembling hand, then his eyes gazed into mine with that teasing, playful expression he had used on Carolina when she first saw the groin gun.

"See? He feels real, doesn't he?" my brother smiled. "He's as alive as you and I."

It was true. The hand that held mine was warm and firm and real. My breath came in gasps; I felt the room tip and sway.

"Make him go away," I cried in sudden alarm. "I'm going to faint. This is too much for me. You're making me crazy." I snatched my hand from the Mariachi's gentle grip.

My brother tapped at keys on the keypad and El Mariachi moved his fingers to his velvet lips and blew me a kiss. Then he turned and walked through the portal. Once inside the cavity, he spun to face me, an eyebrow raised, "Deed I thank you?" he murmured before the metal door closed.

"This is my birthday gift to you," my brother said with a flourish.

At that moment I sunk into unconsciousness.

***

I'm not going to go into all the technicalities of the machine my brother invented. Suffice it to say that when the portal opened and the character stepped out he was as tangible as any other human being on earth. Depending upon the film, the role and the scene I keyed into the program the entity emerged with all the mannerisms, features and qualities of the character Antonio had played in that particular film.

"You will always remain the catalyst for whichever character emerges." My brother advised. "You will have total control. When you wish him to return, he will."

"I'll be the girlfriend? His girlfriend? Antonio's girlfriend?" My heart was racing. It seemed all my wildest dreams were coming true.

My brother frowned. "Now don't forget, sis. None of this has anything to do with Antonio Banderas. Not the real life movie star. The computer contains every vital statistic of every role he has played. But it's not him. It will never be him. These are fictitious characters only. Only one character can appear at one time. But it's not an illusion. He will be real."

"Can we kiss? Things like that?"

My brother rolled his eyes. "Yeah, sure."

"Can we leave the house?"

Once again he nodded. "Yeah - go on vacation. Do what you like. There's no restrictions."

But there were restrictions. I found out about them by trial and error. At first I went nuts. It was like having my own Antonio Banderas smorgasbord. I could step up to the buffet and select any character from any film and he would appear within seconds. Those first crazy weeks I went through all his movie roles, with characters coming and going like a revolving door. It was so fantastic. But I was shy and overwhelmed. The moment the character said something, I would send him back and then sit for a whole hour shaking and trying to control my spinning senses.

The entity, or whatever it was, was so physical, so real. I could touch him. I could smell him. I could feel the heat from him. It was all too much and for the first little while I was on sensory overload.

Antonio has presence. He has it in truckloads. No matter what character he interprets he brings that potent presence into the part. It was heady stuff having one of his movie characters right there in the room with me, looking at me, smiling at me - talking to me.

Talking to me. Talking. Ahh - there's the rub.

That was one of the major problems with my brother's program and one he could not fix. When I keyed in any of the roles Antonio had portrayed during his Spanish film career - for instance, adorable Ricky from Atame - the character could only speak to me in Spanish. As I do not know one single word of the language, it proved to be quite a hindrance.

Another problem was clothes. The character could remove his clothes (oh yes, strip right down to that mouth-watering cock!) but he could not wear any other attire but the outfit he wore at that particular point in the movie. If he placed another item of clothing upon his body he would dissolve and fade away before my eyes. I'd have to re-key him into reality again.

This was a nuisance and made life difficult for me. The characters had to be dressed in their movie role attire. How could I walk down a cosmopolitan city street with my beloved El Mariachi in tow? One spur clinking, chains jingling, skulls for buttons, slick with sweat, hair wild - well, you get the picture.

Of course there proved to be some other problems as well. As I've said, during those first heady weeks I sampled every character - even Luis from the Pleasure of Killing. He came through the portal in a cloud of charisma, wearing the cute leather jacket, faded jeans with buttons at the fly, - his face so boyish and cherubic. I couldn't understand a word he said, but he was so damn cute. We sat on the sofa and drank Jack Daniels and smoked cigarettes and then we enjoyed some fantastic sex. Luis was surprisingly gentle in the bedroom.

I didn't want to send him back. I was enjoying his company so much. It was a warm evening so I suggested we stroll to the park a few blocks away and listen to the brass band that played there every Friday night. Of course Luis did not understand a word, but he took my hand with a playful grin and kissed me on the cheek as we made our way to the elevator.

It was one of those warm violet evenings that makes you forget that the world contains evil. Hand in hand we strolled along the pavement. Quite a crowd had gathered in the park to listen to the band, which played for free. For a moment I released Luis's hand and walked ahead of him. An ice cream vendor had caught my eye and I turned back with a grin, "Hey, Luis, want some ice cream?' I cried. My voice died in my throat as I stared aghast. I couldn't believe it and almost had to rub my eyes to be sure I was seeing what I thought I was seeing.

Luis held a gun in his hand. He was pointing and waving it at the crowd, almost indifferent in his contemptuousness. Several people had spotted the gun and some began to scream. "Luis! What are you doing!" I cried. I rushed at him and quickly snatched the gun from his hand. "What on earth do you think you're doing?"

He stared down at me and snarled a few choice curse words in Spanish, his lips tight.

As I looked up into his eyes I was struck by their emptiness. They might be amber and beautiful, but they were also without depth or substance. Eyes are a window into the soul and Luis did not possess a soul. A cold shiver ran through me.

Shaking and panicky and very aware of the crowd staring at us, I grabbed Luis's hand and dragged him back to my home. I slammed the door behind us with a sigh of relief. Luis stood by the window. He was smiling, he was at ease, he looked so calm as he lit a cigarette and then flopped into the nearby sofa. He turned and said something to me in Spanish, his features relaxed and carefree. He held out a hand inviting me to join him on the sofa. It was as if the incident in the park had never happened.

My own heart thumped in fear. What if he refused to return? What if he demanded the gun back? What if he pointed it at me and pulled the trigger? Christ! I was locked in my house with a cold-blooded killer!

Going to the bedroom I quickly tapped on the keyboard and the door in the cylinder opened. To my relief, Luis stood and entered the portal. With a derisive wink he flicked his cigarette butt to the carpeted floor and the portal closed on him.

"Would the gun have worked?" I asked my brother later. I was in a lather of panic.

"Don't know for sure," Greg replied.

"Well, wipe Luis from the program," I ordered. "I never want to see him again."

I realized afterwards that my experience with Luis was a testament to Antonio's tremendous acting abilities. Antonio had created that evil and manifested it so brilliantly onto the screen. It all proved the man is an extraordinary actor.

I guess you're wondering about Miguel Bain. Well, Miguel is a whole different kettle of fish from Luis. Both are deadly, of course. But Luis kills indiscriminately, which makes him dangerous. Miguel kills for personal gain. He might be an assassin, but his own intellect and self preservation would not allow him do anything foolish.

And Miguel's evil is SOOO sensuous.

Oh God! I'm shivering just thinking about him. He is irresistible. In fact, Miguel is one character I enjoy on a regular basis. I love to have him come to me from the scene in the cemetery. I love his moist skin and that black T-shirt -- so taunt and tight. I love the way those disobedient curls cling around his ear. I love the way he laughs and swigs back beer and - oh - I love the way he eats fruit. You've never lived until you've seen Miguel bite into a piece of fruit. Believe me, - it's an erotic show.

I love to bathe with Miguel. Together in the bathtub I gently kiss each of his wounds until my lips find his and we sink under the water in one luscious kiss.

Of course, I take a bath with Miguel - but I always shower with Tony. Tony is my shower mate. Surely Antonio's hair was at its longest when he made this film for it falls in wet spirals half way down his back. Antonio has a great body, but I've always felt he must have worked out during the making of NTTS. Maybe he had nothing else to fill his time in the middle of the cold Toronto winter, so he spent his hours at the gym, but whatever it was - Antonio seemed at his most long haired and muscular during the making of this film. That's my opinion, anyway.

He washes me. I wash him. And then… well - then we make love. The wire cage around my bed was constructed especially for my sex time escapades with Tony. He's one of my all time favourites.

I have other favourites, of course. Alejandro for instance. That annoying bra hook that snags and won't unhook is no problem for Zorro's sharp blade. He's undressed me for bed many a time. (Expensive on the wardrobe budget, tho).

Adorable Ricky is one character I select on a regular basis. Together we have wallpapered the bedroom and painted the kitchen. Ricky can fix just about anything. He's also a pretty good cook. Of course, the MAIN reason I love Ricky is his staying power. The man is a sexual powerhouse. He can fuck all night long. Talk about being sexually satisfied!! I walk funny for days after a visit from Ricky. Still there remains that pesky problem of language. I don't know what Ricky is saying to me. Still - who needs words when you're sweating and grunting and about to die from mind-blowing pleasure!

I remember spending a long night holding a trembling Mario in my arms while he sobbed, his tears wetting my breasts. I stroked his hair, making sure to avoid the nasty wound in his scalp. He mumbled in Spanish the whole time and - oh God - I ached for him. So young and sweet, yet so damaged, so tragic. Still, it was difficult to focus. My hands itched to run up and down Mario's muscular thighs. Lordy - those skintight jeans he wore in that film - that snug denim straining so hard against the contours of his luscious body. How was a woman supposed to concentrate on being suitably compassionate?

Compassionate? Ahhh. That makes me think of Francisco. When I was taken sick in bed with the flu I called upon the good Dr. Leal for comfort. That tender amber gaze as chicken soup is gently spooned into my mouth. That soft, encouraging wink. Shit! I was so disappointed when I recovered. I swear Antonio was taking his vitamins when he filmed OLAS - he's so fucking heart-stopping good looking in that film.

One time I was invited to a black tie affair. I wore slinky evening dress that left nothing to the imagination. Did I tell you I'm pretty cute myself? I have long legs and a good figure. Antonio would look twice at me in real life, I swear! He might be devoted to Melanie, but he's got an eye for an attractive woman. I know it.

Anyway, I was all dressed up for a night on the town and I tried to remember movie scenes where Antonio wore a tuxedo. At first I keyed in Che from Evita. Of course he came through the portal looking gorgeous and perfect, but Che can only sing - he cannot speak, a major problem. Then I tried the guy from Four Rooms. Not a hair out of place and elegant from his polished pony tail right down to his polished evening shoes, we set out for a night on the town. Unfortunately the venue was a no smoking affair so I spent most of the night out on the balcony while Mr. Four Rooms indulged in his nicotine habit. Still, it was nice. He had a special way of dipping me back and kissing me. So macho and Spanish.

As the weeks drifted into months and then years, I became somewhat of a recluse. I spent a great deal of time with El Mariachi and Luis Antonio Vargas, of course. Two exceptional men who had the ability to touch me right down to my socks but two characters who could not be seen in public - how would I explain the clothes? So we stayed inside.

I love both El Mariachi and Luis Vargas with equal passion. I cannot pick or chose one and say that I love him the best. I watch the unrated version of OS and it drives me wild. Hot with longing I have to have Luis come to me right away. He joins me in bed, his little ass thrusting so quickly my breasts jiggle and bounce just like Angelina's.

But I also have a soft spot for El Mariachi. He IS my first love, after all. So fucked up, so lonely, so beautiful. I dream of sharing my life with him. Maybe we could elope to Mexico where he would fit in. But would I? Could I wander the land with a man who doesn't even own a change of underwear?

*** As time went by I found myself calling upon one movie character more and more until he slowly became a staple in my life.

Can you guess who it is? Why, it's Antonio from Miami Rhapsody. A forgettable film, but a role that is extremely close to Antonio. The real Antonio.

We have become live in partners. I've introduced him to my family and friends. He is as real as any other person on earth and he's even legitimate thanks to the forged ID provided by my clever brother.

Filled with fun and a zest for life, Miami Rhapsody Antonio speaks with a thick Spanish accent and I tell people he grew up in Spain and emigrated to the US - then I don't have to worry about fabricating a background. Miami Rhapsody Antonio is a trained nurse and is employed at a local retirement home where he is loved and revered by the elderly patients.

He's gentle and kind. His hair is curly and cute and he wears everyday clothes. Clothes - ahhh that was a problem for a long time. My brother finally got the software fixed so that the character could wear other clothes besides those worn in the actual film. Otherwise I'd be stuck with a man who wore the same shirt day in and day out.

It's all worked out so fantastically. I'm so fucking happy I could burst.

Miami Rhapsody Antonio is a most fantastic lover - although we always have to go thru the counting kisses ritual from the film! When we make love there's always lots of lovely sperm and my brother figures MR Antonio can probably impregnate me. I hope so. I'd love to have his kids.

So my life is one sweet ride. And if I ever get to meet one of those aliens, I'll be sure and shake his hand (that's if aliens HAVE hands, of course).

Oh - gotta go. There's the key in the lock. Antonio's home from work. He's going to make paella for supper. He's got a great recipe. He's got a great 'everything' actually.

I no longer need my super duper reproduction computer. It's now available on eBay. If a chica has a million dollars she can buy it for her very own. (Oh, sorry, but my brother has deleted all the Antonio characters from the program and replaced them with Tom Cruise roles. If you'd like your very own real life Jerry McGuire … well, you know what to do).

Ta Ta For Now.