Fanboy's Dream

It had been a simple request. "Could you please visit a young man who's dying? He's a big fan of yours and meeting you would be the highlight of his short life."

Wonder Woman pondered the invitation carefully. The facts all seemed to check; the references and the charity were legitimate. She dialed the number on the request and was connected to Rob Wilson, the coordinator for this event.

Rob seemed upbeat until Wonder Woman asked about the boy. "He seems to have lost hope Wonder Woman. He's despairing of your ever coming to see him."

"What's his name?" asked Wonder Woman.

"Rob," came the reply. "Just like mine." Wonder Woman thought she heard a stifled choke.

"All right, I can spare some time this afternoon. Would two o'clock be all right?"

"Oh yes. I'll see to it all the preparations are made." Rob gave Wonder Woman an address and hung up.

At five minutes before two, Wonder Woman patrolled the blocks surrounding little Rob's house. Aside from a van from the charity, nothing seemed out of place. She strode confidently to the front door and knocked. It opened a crack, then swung wide as Rob Wilson opened the door.

"I'm so glad you could make it!" he said, beaming.

"Where's young Rob?" asked Wonder Woman.

"He's in his room, just down the hall." Rob pointed, and Wonder Woman strolled down. She stopped at the closed door and knocked. "Rob? Are you in there?" She asked with a smile.

Then it happened so quickly! Wonder Woman felt a heavy hand on her waist, tugging her belt loose, the free. Another hand clamped over her face and the thick, sickly sweet scent of chloroform filled her lungs. Wonder Woman tried not to breathe, but a fist slammed her in the stomach repeatedly. Finally, the Amazon was forced to gulp for air, and the chloroform did its work.

When she roused, Wonder Woman gazed around the bedroom. Her costume had been removed and was hanging nicely on a mannequin. The room was filled with posters of herself and Wonder Woman realized that Rob had been the fan. She squirmed on the chair and realized she was wearing a leather harness, and her hands had been bound tightly with her own lasso...

Was she now the capstone of Rob's collection? Or was something more sinister going on?


A tribute art to the great Angleman. His version of this picture has been one of my favorites for a LONG time, and I felt I had to do this. Besides, what fanboy HASN'T had this thought for some time....?