Ashton Kutcher Fan Fiction: “The Middle School Dance” by Melissa Bell, Age 13.
BY Teddy Wayne
“Driver, please stop for a minute at that middle school. I want to stretch my long legs,” said Ashton from the backseat of his stretched limo.
“Yes sir, Mr. Kutcher,” stated his English driver, Geeves.
Ashton looked hot in his trucker hat. The sound of Fergie’s “Clumsy” came from the school.
“Whutz going on in there, Geeves?” Ashton asked.
“It appears to be a middle school dance, sir,” responded his trusty showfer. “Would you care to attend?”
“Yes,” the gorgeous skater-type replied. “I am a little lonely tonight, and I have a feeling I might meet someone special there.”
Ashton went into the dance. Everyone made a big deal about him and asked for his autographs. They knew him mostly as Kelso and had not seen him in everything else he had done, especially not “The Butterfly Effect” fourteen times. Susan Walcott pushed out her B-cups to get his attention. But Ashton did not even notice her as he walked past her and her Uggs from last year.
“My name is Ashton,” he declared cutely. “Whutz yours?”
“Marisa Ball,” retorted the girl.
“Why are you alone?” he questioned, his dark hair flowing like a dark river.
“Why are you alone?” she flirted confidently.
“Because me and Demy broke up,” he rejoined. “But I cannot understand why you are alone. Your such a pretty girl.”
He was right. She was pretty in a very subtle way that not everyone understood at first, just as her mother told her. “Since U Been Gone” started playing. “This is my favorite song,” said Ashton.
“It is my favorite too,” answered back Marisa. “I always try to request it on TRL but I can never get through.”
“I am friends with the VJs and I will request it for you next time. Would you care to dance?” he queried.
Ashton took Melissa by the hand and they slow danced. She felt she could stay in his arms 4EVA. The chaperone Mr. Burlick the Earth Science teacher did not enforce the twelve-inch rule because he saw how important this was to Marisa and to Ashton. At that moment he decided to give Marisa an “A.”
“I am so glad I requested my driver to stop in Franklin, Kansas,” uttered Ashton. “I want to tell you that you are very different from the L.A. girls I have met, but in a good way. Also, you will get your period soon.”
The song ended. “I guess this is the end,” whispered Marisa quietly.
“It doesn’t have to be,” reacted Ashton. “Would you care to be my date for my movie pre-mere in Hollywood that I am driving to now?”
Marisa nodded because they did not need words. The age difference would not matter as he was used to it on account of his ex. They held hands and walked through the crowd, and John Stepford looked at her jealously through his flowing dark hair.
Geeves opened the door for them. As they drove off Ashton inquired “I hope we are not followed by the poparozi from the Entertainment Weekly, but do not be surprised if you see your picture with me in there next issue. Would you care to be in my next movie? Its a romantic comedy about a famous movie-star who marries a small town-girl and she becomes a famous movie-star as well.”
“Yes,” Marisa spoke. “But first I must ask you something I have been thinking about that has been on my mind. Am I being punk’d?”
“I would never punk’ you,” Ashton pronounced. “Rather, I am in love with you.”
They Frenched, and Geeves passed back a bottle of Crystal for them to celebrate with.
“Geeves, you are the best,” Ashton concluded. “After Marisa, of course,” Ashton added.
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