FANPOCALYPSE NOW (ISH): A Belated FINAL Fan Report

(For anyone who cares: this is ahem, as it were, a "lost" episode written in March and meant to complete the series. It fell behind the sofa or something.)

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Highway to East Assonowear, March 2009

An ice cream truck full of David Cook fans, sweetly tinkling "Time of My Life" as it rolls amid snowy hills.

Fan 2: "Sometimes I think we are a little obsessed."

Fan 3: "Shouldn't we maybe just exercise a bit of patience? I mean, we don't have tickets for tonight, but the tour seems to be going well . . . sooner or later we'll get our chance to see David Cook live . . ."

Fan 1: "Look, just forget about it. I'm never going to forgive David Cook for failing to recognize that I am his biggest fan. I don't care if we have tickets or not, I'm going to wait outside the campus hall -- full of nubile, satisfied, recklessly unCookified college age people--and CONFRONT him."

Fan 4: "He just sold the millionth album at 1:23 Pm today, exactly as our predictive model stated."

Fan 2 tapping on an iPhone: "Oooh, another video from the tewer. HE SANG ANODYNE!"

Fan 1: "Gasp! OMG, I love that song. It sounds gorgeous. I love David Cook. I HATE DAVID COOK!"

Elsewhere on that same highway:

Terrorist 1: "Sometimes I think we are a little obsessed."

Terrorist 2: "Listen, it's healthy. After the US annihilated our bases in 2001, Osama BL was really down on himself for a while. When he discovered American Idol, it was an amazing thing. Gave him an endless source for new fatwahs and enemies."

"Never will I forget the resentful joy with which he waged war on behalf of Taylor Hicks. For a while he thought about eliminating Simon Cowell, but secretly I think he realized he'd miss the angst. The Archuleta defeat really broke him though. "

"What with the Obama stuff that happened in November. Ridiculous or not, he started feeling like the whole thing was a victory for, well, democracy. But if we can take out David Cook, it will be like a massive Victory for Evil. Just the thing to get us back on our feet!"

Terrorist 3, singing under his breath: "Roll out underneath my heels, and you don't know how *bad* it feels!"

Terrorist 1: "Stop it!"

Terrorist 3: "I cannot help it. You said we needed to study our enemy and now it's in my head. DCTR . . . such an earworm! No wonder "Light On" has become the second platinum single!" (*)

Terrorist 4, musing: "But what of Top 40?"

Terrorist 3: "F*ck Top 40! He is the KING of HAC!"

Terrorist 1: "Silence! More evidence of the pernicious evil influence of Cookery. How often have I warned you of this danger! Nobody sells David Cook like David Cook and his cursed pants of seductiveness! Now, play the music of our True Faith."

The VW bus rolls down the highway as a sweet voice warbles, "Touch my hand! Touch my hand! Touch my hand!"

A roadside cafe, East Assonowear

Fan 1 enters, sniffing the air: "What? What is that? That scent - an air of musical integrity, rich vocals, manly seductiveness -- with just a faint touch of smugness and Cheezit grease? Dammit! DAVID COOK!"

Counter guy: "Who?"

Fan 1: "The American Idol!! Has he been here?"

Counter guy: "Uh, there were a bunch of guys here earlier. Coulda been him, I guess. I dunno, I was more of a Chikezie Eze fan. Ahhh my rolly polly Nigerian love, you and those hot Donny Hathaway covers--You know my name's Chikeze! Where was I?"

Fan, in a strangled voice: "DAVID! COOK! "

Counter guy: "Oh, yeah. Well, the scruffy dude was here with a bunch of fellas. Big blonde tattoo'd dude pouring Jack Daniels on his cheerios who never said nothin'. Skinny guy with pretty hair who ordered pork n beans and stirred his coffee with a drumstick. Guy in a ball cap who looked like Bruce Willis if you squint . . . (*)

"And this little darkly handsome feller who popped behind the counter and helped the fry cook; also, sewed this loose button on for me. He's a multitasker. Useful."

"Anyways, they had the Chef Boyardee breakfast omelet special and hightailed it out of here. Said they had a show to get to. "

"By the way, they was in such a big hurry they left some gear behind. Say, if you're planning on catching up with him, think you could hand that over? It's taking up some room."

Propped in the corner we see a GRENADE LAUNCHER, labelled "luv2 David thx for the show yr friends CAMP FREEDOM."

As the David Cook fans site and begin ordering taquitos, another group enters and quietly settles at the next booth. They appear FAMILIAR.

Gradually rising voices from the table of David Cook Fans:

"Clearly, RCA is trying to destroy Cook's career by choosing "Come Back to Me" as the next single"

"In the last concert, I think Andy had the best pants."

"Tasteless whore. Clearly, David had the best pants."

"Neal had those pants first!!"

"How come we never talk about Kyle's pants?"

"I'm pretty sure David took Andy's pants while he wasn't looking. He's evil like that."

"David Cook is a bastard. Why else would he have called us out on stalking his hotel room? Why else would he have chosen the wrong single? Why else would he have failed to play my hometown, forcing me to drive to East Assonowear? I HATE David Cook!"

Jihaadi, by reflex, shout in unison: "Death to David Cook!"

A silence falls on the cafe.

Terrorist 1: "Shut up, Omar! Ha ha ha! What you mean to say is, death to Dane Cook. How terrible was his Comedy Central showcase, my brothers?"

Fans: "Wait, you guys seriously hate David Cook?"

Terrorist 1: "Well, to be straight with you, yes. It is our sacred mission to destroy him."

Terrorist 2: "Yes, truly. We are part of the global conspiracy! All the way! Ever since he dared to rival Archuleta! We are OG, feel me?"

Terrorist 3: "Although I personally am a fan of Analog Heart, with its heartfelt indie simplicity, it is so. Death to the Offspring of Blue Springs."

Terrorist 4: "I like what you did there. By the way, do you guys know why "Souvenir" did not make the album? Because its poignant hookiness is stuck in my head."

Terrorist 1: "It DOES NOT MATTER dog son. We are going to destroy the infidel."

Terrorist 4: "Oh, right. Yes, down with David Cook!"

Fan 4: "Say, do you guys work for Clear Channel? Cause that would totally explain the resistance of CHR to adopting "Come Back to Me!"

Fan 1, hisses: "Missing the big picture here, fantard! " To Terrorists: "Well, you'll never get away with it!" Leaps to the lunch counter and grabs up the grenade launcher.

Counter guy: "Wow, What are the odds?"

Fan 1: "Lissen up, haters! You'll never take down Cook while he has us, his loyal fans, to defend him! I don't care if I take us all with you, but I'm blowing your asses straight back to hell! Come down from this cloud . . . in pieces!!!!!!

Suddenly a speeding bus crashes through the diner window!! Glass and condiments fly everywhere!

A squad of armed people in FBI windbreakers storm the diner. At the head of the pack, guns drawn, are Secretary of State Hilary Clinton and Former Secretary of State Condoleeza Rice.

Condi: "Freeze! We'll take it from here."

As the minions of the Global Anti-David Cook conspiracy are led away in cuffs, the Fans stand pensively amid the broken glass, scattered menus, and puddles of mustard.

Fan 1: "I feel like I've learned an important lesson here today. About getting back to what really matters--my love of David Cook and his band's awesome music, and their great and entertaining selves. From now on, I'll refuse to let my joy and enthusiasm turn to anxiety and anger! I'll enjoy the music with a new sense of openness and integration into my life! Watch all the bitterness burn! No more fan obsessiveness for me! C'mon kids--let's go home!"

Fan 2: "Wait, how is that the lesson? If you weren't an obsessive fan, then you wouldn't be here, and then . . ."

Fan 3: "Shhhhhh . . . "

They exit, singing, "A DailyAnthem."

Meanwhile, in the diner parking lot, as the FBI packs up its things.

Former Secretary of State Condoleeza Rice: "Psst, Hil, take a look at these. Found 'em in the Talibani's fanny pack."

We see in her hand two tickets labelled: "DAVID COOK 8 PM SAT EAST ASSONOWEAR COMMUNITY COLLEGE."

Secretary of State Hillary Clinton: "Condi! You goddess!!! B*tch, we are going to see effin David Cook! Squeeeeeee!"

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POST SCRIPT

Dear David Cook:

It occurs to me that you're not really in need of these things anymore. You won the whole show, put out an awesome record, started an amazing band with your best friends, sold a million of it, and your tour is amazing, again! There are more details, but there's a million posts, photos, youtubes, blogs and etc to cover all that.

You have done the thing that you started out to do, and my friend, that is more then most of us can say.

For a lot of it there was this huge feeling of SUSPENSE, because for a variety of reasons, we identified with *your* story --and that of Neal, Andy, Kyle and Joey (ETA: Monty)--as if it were *our* story.

Now that you're actually on your way, it becomes more the deal of all those other people out there who may not have discovered your music yet and are about to have all the fun of doing so.

And those folks won't necessarily remember every single moment of discovering you.

And love every song, including the ones you wrote when you were 19, and spend a thousand hours documenting your spincrease in East Texas and discussing the parallels between Kiss on the Neck and a Renaissance Sonnet.

But on the other hand . . . if those future listeners are no quite so attached to the memory of voting and rivalry and OMG, Frankenstein, we made you and we can destroy you, and today I must log on and defeat my enemies who disagree with me about the Next Single and the video and sales trends and who is getting in your pantz, well, there's an upside to that.

Along the way, it was the craziest, most absurd, invigorating, exciting year of all time, and we all sang along.

Think of everything you wanted, and what you got instead.

Footnotes:
* Almost platinum
* Yes, I edited in Monty. Sue me.

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POST-POST-POSTSCRIPT

Aug 2009

OK, I wrote this back in March 09 (obviously, to scholars of the Cookian timeline). But I never published it.

Why? Well. A lot was happening in my real life. That had been the case for a while, so I had planned to make this one the final chapter anyway, as you can see. A natural stopping point, as it were.

But then, there was the whole real life craziness with Dave Cook having to tell fans to back off and stop being so awful, which made this all a lot less, you know, funny.

And then *I actually got to go* to two Detour concerts (recapped here and here), also severely attenuating the irony.

Finally, just as a piece of writing--albeit ridiculous anonymous fansite writing--I wasn't happy with it. What started off as humorous squibs were getting more and more complicated, relying on readers having read the previous ones, and above all starting to be more about the weirdness of fandom then the band itself. I never did solve that. I also started to be niggled at by questions of why I wasn't working on certain other real-world writing projects of mine.

And then a lot more things happened--to David Cook and all of us--good and bad--and it seemed like the time had passed.

I'm inserting this now, just for completeness' sake. And 'cause it has been fun.

The Fan Reports of AbsoluteTruth Archive

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