The Matt Horan Fanfic Depository

A place to share fictional stories involving Matt Horan in everyday life.

Matt Horan and Parking Horror

"What the hell!" Exclaimed Matt Horan.

Matt Horan's exclamation sounded loudly in the car as he exclaimed in frustration. After circling the neighborhood of his good friend and guy who has short hair and is shorter than Matt Horan he exclaimed again seeing no good parking spots.

"How am I going to be able to park if there are no parking spots? Then when I park my car, there will be no place to park it!" Matt Horan exclaimed.

A pedestrian slowly crossed the street, and Matt Horan, being a good and careful driver stopped to allow him to get across the street. But while he was waiting, Matt Horan made fun of the guy who was crossing the street from inside of his car, whose windows were rolled up so that the guy who was crossing the street could not hear him!

Matt Horan switched on his award-winning XM Satellite radio station to blaze some dope-ass techno beats, and zoomed off. His guy who was a friend with short hair and was shorter than him could WAIT if his parking was this much of horror! Matt Horan found the closest bridge that was too low for his car because there are other shorter cars and it's a special bridge for short ars but he went under anyway! Then the bridge made Matt Horan's car a convertible, and Matt lowered the roof and his windows, checking his rims to make sure they were still OK, so that everyone could hear his blast techno.

"Hey are you blast techno!?" Asked a girl with some cool doods who turned out to be gay.

"Yes." Replied Matt Horan calmly.

Putting on his sunglasses, Matt Horan had other people other than him jump into his convertible car, and the sped off away from the parking horror for a night of blast techno and fun!

"I'm glad I escaped that parking....... HORROR!" exclaimed Matt Horan, putting on his sunglasses.

Matt Horan and the Awning

Matt Horan, Dickfore, and MBurns sat on a patio across from their favorite venue. The sun shone brightly overhead, making their meal, which was suspiciously close to dinner but still referred to as lunch, only mildly inconvenient.

"I can't take this sun anymore!" exclaimed Matt Horan.
"I have so many dates, how could I possibly ever find trooloove when women are just throwing themselves at me?" mused Dickfore with an irritating, hipster gleam in his eye.

MBurns ignored both of his friends and looked across the street to the patio of their favorite venue. They had decided to go to this other place for lunch because, even though it seemed to hold no promise of good service or food, it was new. Why not try a new place? MBurns saw that their favorite venue had an awning over the patio.
AN AWNING.

"Hey, why don't we go over there, they have an awning," suggested MBurns to Matt Horan, who was complaining about the gentle sunshine which was characteristic of the season.
"But we already have a tab here!" said Matt Horan loudly and with great passion.
"So. many.. fucking.... WOMEN!" shouted Dickfore over the casual conversation, eagerly vying for attention.
"We could eat, then go across the street and enjoy cool drinks on this mild day... under that awning!?" mused MBurns, who decided to also take this opportunity to muse, considering how little he did on a usual day.

No one replied, eying their drinks uncomfortably and resisting the urge to talk to each other. Dickfore finally broke the silence which a question about their other friend who was supposed to meet them there.

"Jared‽"
"I don't think he's coming, he complained about the place we were going, complained about the time we were going, and then threatened to kill us..." replied MBurns.
"At least he doesn't have to sit here in this terrible fucking sunshine!" shouted Matt Horan.
After another moment of silence, Dickfore suggested, "Why don't we sit inside then?"
MBurns and Matt Horan turned to Dickfore with a quizical look in their eyes. Matt Horan explained, "Why would we want to sit inside? We asked to be seated outside because it's such a nice day."
"But, you were just complaining about..." began Dickfore, but he was cut off as Matt Horan said, in a raised tone and making a face at Dickfore, "Duhhhhhghghgghhhh!!!"

After eating, Dickfore convinced Matt Horan and MBurns to go across the street to their favorite venue for drinks underneath the awning.

"Wait, where are you going?" Matt Horan asked Dickfore as he changed his trajectory from following them across the street to going to his car.
"Women, and dogs, and stuff..." replied Dickfore vaguely. "I'll be right back, save me a seat."
"What a DICKfore." said MBurns smugly.

MBurns and Matt Horan seated themselves underneath the awning. Matt Horan had an increasingly irritated look on his face the longer he sat at their new table underneath the awning. Jared‽ approached, spotting them despite their being underneath the awning.

"O hai. Why did you guys pick such a shitty table, there aren't enough fucking chairs." commented Jared‽, refusing to sit down.
"This sucks, it's too cold. Let's go." said Matt Horan.

Matt Horan and MBurns got up and left.

Matt Horan 'n Friends

As the door to Penguin opened, the warm air rushed out to meet Matt Horan. It was chilly for an August night in New England, and the warmth of the bar was a welcome change to the biting cold he had not thought to dress for. He instinctively headed to the back corner of the seating area. It was the only place Penguin ever had that was large enough to accommodate everyone who showed up. As he rounded the corner an uproar came from the back tables as the patrons seated there noticed him.

"HEYYY!!!!!!!!" everyone shouted at once. The sound increased as it spurred others to join in. Matt Horan couldn't help but smiling. "Hey!" he responded in kind. In the corner of the booth was Ted Bowman with a commanding view of the table. Next to him sat his roommate Richard, the dim bar lights reflecting brightly in his glasses. Sitting in a chair against the wall was his old friend MBurns, accompanied by Rebecca on his right. Across from the two of them, turned in their chairs to see him, were Jared and, closest to Richard, Dickie. Fred sat at the head of the table opposite Ted.

As Matt Horan looked around the table for an open seat, Dickie got up and crammed himself next to Richard.
"Sit here Matt!" said Dickie, thumping his palm down at the place he just moved from.
"Oh, thanks! We're going to have to make room anyway though, Rachel is on her way here right now."
"Yeah, Claire said she's on her way too, so we're gonna have to make a few extra places anyway." chimed in Burns, matter-of-factly.
"Well, we can pull that other table over when they get here."

A few empty and half-full (half-empty?) glasses were already already scattered around the table, and two metal pedestals contained a few loose slices of pizza. After Matt Horan's drink arrived at the table, Richard raised his glass;
"You missed the toast, Matt! Cheers!"
Matt Horan raised his glass, but inquired as he did so. "What's the occasion?"
"Why don't you get this one, Dickie?"
"My car was broken into."
"AGAIN." Emphasized Ted, speaking directly to Matt Horan for the first time since he arrived.
"Oh man!" exclaimed Matt Horan. "That sucks!"
Dickie's cars were frequently vandalized, owning mostly to his apathy at locking his doors when he exited the vehicle.
Ted turned to Dickie to impart his unique brand of advice to him.
"You know what they have now? They have spiked vaginas. Women can buy these vagina inserts, and they're, like, barbed and spiked and everything. You need to make your car so you have to fuck it to drive it, but then put a spiked vagina in it. Then when someones tries to steal your car, they get their penis shredded into a million pieces."

Burns laughed the hardest. Dickie responded by highlighting the many problems inherent in his advice.
"They didn't steal it, Ted, they took things out of it. And how would anyone be able to tell they had to have sex with my car before they could drive it? Wouldn't they just give up and leave it?"
"No, you have to market you car first. It can be the first car you can have sex with ever. Then everyone will know how to steal it. But they won't! Instead, they just get dick-shred! DICK SHRED! Listen to those two words together, Dickie. Dick. Shred. Can you even listen to that without feeling pain? If someone steals with your stuff, they should have their dick shredded. That's why people keep stealing your shit. Shred one dick, I guarantee no one with ever steal your shit again."
Dickie abandoned his rebuttal. It was hard to argue with someone when you couldn't stop laughing.

Matt Horan took the opportunity to talk to his friend Jared.
"How's the job search going?"
"Ehh... I still don't have a job, so I'm gonna say poorly."
"Don't worry, you'll find something, Jared!"
"Aww, thanks Matt!"
"No you won't! You'll die poor and alone! No one will ever love you!" offered Ted.
"Yeah, and you're ugly!" added Burns.
"Fredo! You made it!" said Matt Horan turning to Fred.
"Yeah, well, it's not every day Dickie has his car broken into. Oh wait, it IS every day Dickie has his car broken into!"
"Dickie, you need to start locking your car!" said Rebecca, joining the conversation. "Hi Matt, how are you?" She added, formally greeting Matt Horan.
"I like how you're the only person who asks how I'm doing, Rebecca. I'm good!"
Burns countered with, "Oh Matt. You know we don't ask how you are because we don't care. How are you?"

Before Matt Horan could answer, Claire and Rachel arrived. The server saw them pushing yet another another table over and came to get the drink orders of the newcomers. Matt Horan also ordered another drink. he had a feeling they were going to be there for a while.

Snowbros Broboarding Snowpatrol: The Case of the Missing Diamonds: Chapter 1

Icecream emerged from the narrow walkway into the concorse of the airport. Around him, the sights and sounds of Osaka Japan sprang to life. Clitching his bad, he walked quickly around the bussling people to find his way to the street. Icecream had a job to do. As he passed the terminal exit, he quickly looked up and did a double-take. A man with short brown hair and shorts was holding up a sigh reading "Icecream." Icecream walked up and address the man, who now saw him and smiled.

"Burns," said Icecream with a grin.

His old parter from the Snowbros Broboarding Patrol. He was glad to see his old friend but confused: Years ago Burns had left the Snowbrows Broboarding Snowpatrol after more red-tape had kept him from catching the man who had gone snowboarding with his old flame Rebecca in the Swiss Alps. When Icecream had sided with the Snowbros Broboarding Patrol Captain, Burns had left without saying goodbye. But now here he was, in the flesh.

"It's great to see you Burns, but what are you doing here? I thought you were through with the Snowbros Broboarding Patrol?"
"I was... Icecream, listen. I'm sorry about all of those years ago. I let my feelings get in the way of the case. But I shouldn't have let that ruin our friendship."
"It's all water under the bridge," exclaimed Icecream.

At the airport cafe, Burns and Icecream caught up over some water.

"Listen," cautioned Burns. "This case is bigger than you'd ever imagined. They didn't tell you everything, did they?"
"DUH!"
"Some rare snow-diamonds have gone missing. If these rare snow-diamonds leave the country, then all of Japan's critical Internets markets could collapse. This case is big."
"I see. Of course! Snow-diamonds! I was wonder why this was under Snowbros Broboarding Patrol jurisdiction."

As they talked a tall young woman. She was American, wearing and wearing a lab coat. She scanned the seats quickly, then, seeing Burns, smiled and walked over.

"Ahh, Icecream. We're getting some extra help on this case. I'd like you to meet Doctor Zoe. She's been working on a super-advanced AI computerized personality system to help up analyze the theft."

Icecream shook Dr. Zoe's hand heartily.

"In case you couldn't tell from my hearty handshake, it's great to meet you. We'll need all of the help we can get on this case!"
"It's a pleasure. Burns has been regaling me with tales from your old days together as partners. It sounds like you two were quite the team!"

Icecream smiled.

"Were? C'mon Burns. We've got some rare snow-diamonds to find."

*****

Dr. Zoe handed the guards in the Snowbros Broboarding Patrol Lab her access card and nodded to Burns and Icecream.

"This is Burns and Icecream. They've been granted full clearance for a top-secret Snowbros Broboarding Patrol case."

The guard shook both of their hands heartily.

"Of course! Go right in. I heard you two were quite the team. I look forward to seeing you at work on this case, we sure will need your help!"

Icecream smiled.

"Were!?"

As Dr. Zoe led them into her lab, she explained about her experiment.

"My world-renowned research into style and technilogically-advanced artificial lifeform intelligence has created a sentient computer system which has so much knowledge of style programmed into his databanks, he's able to track thieves just based on how they dress." "Wow," said Burns and Icecream in unison.

As Dr. Zoe finally entered the lab, a smooth, computerized voice suddenly spoke up.

"Sharpley dressed. American. Two of you. Based on your uniform, which is custom-tailored and new, you must be Burns. And you? Your uniform is old, and shows signs of action. And you're bald! You must be Icecream. It is a pleasure to meet both of you, I will be assisting you on this difficult case."

Burns and Icecream looked around impressed.

"Who is that?"
"That," answered Dr. Zoe, "is my project I've been telling you about."

Switching on a monitor, A face with curly black hair and horn-rimmed glasses appeared. At the sight of her project Dr. Zoe beamed.

"Gentlemen: Meet R.I.C.H.A.R.D.!"

The two men and the super-advanced computer system immediately got down to business.

"The rare snow-diamonds were stolen from the Internets Control and Distribution Center. Based on how they were dressed in the security tapes (at this, the tapes replaced R.I.C.H.A.R.D.'s face and played on the monitors), it looks like they bought all of their snow gear on the mountain. That would be the best place to pick up the trail. We can talk to a specialist which the Internets control and distribution Center has recently hired to secure their tubes... I believe you know him? His name is Jeresig."

As R.I.C.H.A.R.D. mentioned the name, Burns and Icecream smiled.

"Wow, Jeresig is here! Let's go see him. It will be great to get him to help us on this case, but also it will be good to catch up with our old friend!"
"Oh, I didn't know you knew him. I've been there several times already to get the security tapes for my labs to analyze. I can show you right to him," said Dr. Zoe.

She reached down and flipped a switch on her large wristwatch, and a screen on it turned on and displayed with R.I.C.H.A.R.D.'s face.

"I've hooked up this special communication device to that we can talk to R.I.C.H.A.R.D. in the field."
"All communication systems working perfectly," stated R.I.C.H.A.R.D. "Let's go."
"C'mon," said Icecream for about the 50th time today. "We've got a case to solve."

Intermission

Penguin Pizza operating in a state of halves. The waitress lazily milled about the half-empty restaurant as patrons bashfully partook of half-finished plates of food and nursed half-empty drinks. Fred looked down into his glass, slowly rotating it in his hands as lights twinkled along the inside, glinting off of all but evaporated suds and teardrops of amber liquid. Dickie sat across from him on the other side of the the table, flanked by Carolyn. The seat next to Fred, once occupied by John Resig, now lay dormant; it's potential unfulfilled.

Fred searched his mind to see if he could remember asking about Burns, but since he could not, he ventured a quandary anyway.

"What the gay is Burns up to anyway?"

Dickie looked up from his phone, intrigued by the potential for engagement.

"He's out of the country again. He's been really busy lately. Which is normal for Burns I guess."
"Maybe he's visiting Resig in Japan?"
"Resig was just here," answered Dickie, smirking.
"Speaking of Burns, what's Matto been up to?"

The smirk widened into a smile at the mention of his old friend, although he looked down at the table, avoiding eye contact with Fred as he answered.

"Still living it up in NYC I guess. Although I guess he hates his job now."
"Haha, yeah..."

A silence settled over the table again, like a coat of fresh paint. As the seconds passed, it dried and hardened, becoming even harder to wipe away. Dickie picked up a straw-wrapped from the table and began to fold it idly in his hands. At his side, Carolyn yawned and placed her head on his shoulder. Withdrawing his phone from his pocket he clicked the power button restlessly, checking the time as, in the background, Fred looked out over the bar at the other patrons.

Suddenly smiling, he looked up at Dicking, breaking the silence once again.

"I wonder what Ted's up to. Haven't heard much from him lately, eh?"
"Yeah. Probably trying to find ways to distance himself from his illegitimate, Swedish children. Or you know, seeing if cocaine is paleo."
"Haha. I bet it totally is. That's probably how he copes with the pressure of working for Klarna. Fred, I have to say, I'm surprised you're still here. Richard even left before you."
"I do things. Why the gay did Richard leave again?"
"He had some thing for his class in the morning."
"yeah, being all 'responsible' and bettering himself. What a huge bag of douche."

Dickie's phone was still in his hand. Despite having just checked the time, he checked it again. As the screen illuminated, he re-read the numbers and allowed it to fade back into darkness.

"I'm going to go out for a smoke real quick."
"It's getting kind of late, I'm probably just going to head out."
"Alright then."

Sitting up in his seat, he seized his glass and raised it to Fred, who clinked his own glass against it.

"Cheers. To not waisting beer. And to getting the waitress to bring us our check."
"Well, cheers to not waisting beer at least. I'll believe the rest of it when I see it."

They both downed what was left of their glasses in a single gulp, then Fred cast his eyes out into the bar again, looking for the waitress. As Dickie waited, he gripped the empty glass in his hands and turned it over and over, watching as the light twinkled off of all but evaporated suds and teardrops of amber liquid.