A story based on @catolysttfs @catolystexponentiel recent Retro filter TF Comic over here: Applying the Retro Filter
Special thanks to him for allowing me to edit and use a part of his comic for the final TF picture!
“Hey Babe, got time for a Selfie?”
The blond smirked, placing his arm around his boyfriend’s shoulder.
Fred Mitchell was always the Gungho, idiot next door guy who you loved to be around with. Well…to be precise they are in his small apartment.
Living in a messy apartment, having an average build and grades in his Sociology course but who cares! He was living his best life, dressed in a slightly patterned tee, with an unbuttoned grey dress shirt on top as well as typical dark blue sweatpants and red sneakers.
Mismatched but so what? The dark-blond college senior could barely care less! He knew looked good! Without needing to step up his game for anyone or anything!
Just like his loving boyfriend.
“Nah, you’ll get what I mean when you see this!”
Jonas Sanders was his match. A relaxed, chill hipster, yet was ever so passionate about democracy.
Leaning towards the left. The dude was a fighter against the greed of cooperations and capitalism. However, he knew how to make sensible arguments and not baseless accusations and objections without a solid foundation.
He fought for honestly, and dressed his truth. Not hiding anything, wearing a sky blue buttoned down. Rolled up sleeves and an unbuttoned top to show the muscle amidst his thick fat. A comfy, dark beanie matching his shoulder-length raven hair and luscious beard, as well as a pair of navy blue jeans and a belt, knowing he did not need to put in the effort to emphasise his large behind that his boyfriend loved to explore.
“See! We look straight out of The Great Depression, Babe!”
Yep, that joke snags Fred a point!
Yeah, its always been a running joke on their campus, especially with that incredibly backwards state getting notoriety. Something about how several conservative cultures are spreading about in the nation for a while now…or has it always been that way for over a decade now?
Especially with how old fashioned this app was, took decades to activate…well actually 5 minutes, but that is like forever in this day and age! Not to mention how scary realistic the filter is, in terms of how both the hats and attire are fittingly layered on top of the two of them.
Heck! With how these , maybe this photo app is created by one of them!
But nah, Fred ain’t gonna fall for one of those conspiracy theories. And so what if the app promised a ‘photographed into the past’ experience literally? Sure life wasn’t as glamorous back then and probably was too straight for him and his boo.
But as long as Fred had his boyfriend Jonas by his side, he was certain he could handle the 1930s without a problem!
“Yeah, except I’m pretty sure back then gay people haven’t been invented yet!”
And once more, the scores for humour are even again.
Honestly, it was a no wonder why his relationship with his boyfriend went incredibly well for the last four years of college. Both him and his boyfriend were inseparable. Two halves, same humour, they were bound to be a lovable couple regardless of time-period.
And yet…as Jonas blinked, he noticed a split second change of the image reflected in the camera. The two ‘reflections’ of him and his boyfriend smirking, …far more ‘matured’ versions of the two, as a split between the two men.
They looked…incredibly different, almost conniving even. The type of men that would take anything, and everybody down just so they could be at the top.
A split second, to stop the reality they are about to-
“Ha-ha! Good one! Let’s see how we-“
But it was simply too late.
Here comes a flash, and an overwhelming wave of monochrome coloration burst forth into the room. Engulfing the walls, sofa top, and the two photographed men in an old time rewind as the phone-machinery snapped open into two.
Falling onto the tabletop, as it sunk onto the furniture its glossy glass sheen, while surrounding the base with the metallic elements down to the legs. The electronic material left behind faded with its time, stretching forth uniformly into two identical, flat moulds which get-
Into thin strips of well laminated documents, the original and a signed copy of the endless terms and conditions of the new reality these men were about to find themselves in, as well as the nature of their relationship.
Setting the record straight.
Fred’s light brown eyes swarmed into a deep spiral, and likewise, Jonas’s emerald go-getter green pupils fell into the same fate. Both men still stunned by the…whatever they were doing just now. As they struggled to stay in their respective poses.
As an attempt to preserve whatever they had before their world becomes black and white.
But as the top of their attire materialises the beginnings of old fashioned office wear, as plain white collared buttoned downs promoted themselves like an executive, presenting these men with the direct dress codes they will never forget.
After all, the 1930s was one of the fiercest competitions for men, and neither of them wanted to be solely relying on the other.
And with that realisation, so did Fred feel uncomfortable holding onto the broad shoulders of his guy…without an ulterior motive, feeling the beginnings of facial hair twist his intentions of care and concern.
And with all due respect, there was much more reservation from our buddy Jonas, arms crossed tighter than a conservative in court, beard splitting with the considerations of fitting in with the men of his day and age.
Clothing taking on a darker hue than Fred’s grey, as both men with the upper parts of his suit and hat taking their respective colours. Hair trimming upwards in each passing second, as the takeover continued to the rest of their attire alongside the refurnishing of the room-THUMP.
Did the small apartment room re-built itself, sewing messy sheets and clothing into a huge rectangular collage, before engulfing the floor with a very expensive, Persian rug. The small, stained wooden bed elevated itself, becoming purely mahogany as it became a new office desk.
Many more shifts occured alongside the expanding of the room, with metallic cabinets filling up with numerous files and documents of unmentionable businesses behind the desk, fresh sleek office plants right at the entrance, large, well invested paintings filling up the walls of the business owner’s room.
And the cherry on top, the polished nameplate on top of Mr not-so idiot’s desk.
And of course, Fredin was intrigued.
His grip on his guyfriend’s shoulder loosened, struggling to stay connected to the other man as he craned his neck to glance at the credentials engraved on it…and by extension, the rest of the corporate space..
It was his office after all.
Straightening his posture, the man couldn’t help but grin at the time and effort put into designing it. All the hustle and convincing really did pull off? Didn’t it?
A part of the man tried to resist, but as the rest of his jacket blended one with the suit, the more he felt that it was necessary, especially at his time and age of the early thirties.
Growing independent was important, he wouldn’t want to rely on his guy-friend to do all of his funny business would he? He had to be in control, both in his appearance and where he worked at.
‘Always make sure to clean up the mess, see?’
A really accented echo blitzed through his skull, as a wave of grey sparked down his trousers. Tailoring longer it to the new business owner that owns them, crackling a size larger for those sneakers as they became smooth dark leather.
Meanwhile Jonase’s bottoms followed suit. Darker colours taking hold as his pants tightened stronger, fats ripening into muscle as they strained domineeringly as compared to the sleazy lankiness of the otha guy’s.
Of course, he had to be in charge of his life.
It was without question, putting his foot down, the hard clunks of his dress shoes dulled the atmosphere further. Straightening his tie, narrowing the reality and beliefs placed upon him.
It was so hard for him to resist, after all-he had a reputation to uphold, didn’t he? Which preventing him from fooling around in his duty…
Especially when he had such fine-lookin’, conservative co-workers.
Fredlin leaned over to his side, shifting away from any dependence on his companion. Clutching his temples, sorting out the endless details of schemes and conniving deals he would conjure in order to come out on top.
The fading part of them tried to rationalise between good and evil, but the rising formal part of him came in like a lawyer, decking a deceptive graph of profit after profit, wealth after wealth. The facial dusting of a sinister hair curl began to grow above his upper lip.
He could not help but smirk at that.
Following in suit, Jonase leaned over to the opposite end. Getting a grip on his noggin, as he felt the bristles of his prized beard clipping away like a grown husband on Sunday morning!
Or at least that was what he heard what some of his colleagues always rambled about. As he nodded, reluctantly…until he could recall those manicured fingers over his aftershave.
He grinned at that memory.
As the two men set their priorities ‘right’, the sounds of a shredding echo becoming two sleek, cushioned chairs. Pushing apart parallel as they faced one another across the table.
One for each men, their lips pursed as they tried to utter a syllable, a sign of recognising the other…to show how much their company meant to them-
“If only there’s fine women nearby..”
Fredklin initiated the remark. As his mouth could not help but contort to a twisted grin, rocking the hardest tent the late thirties business guy ever had in all his years of ‘entrepreneurship’.
But wait a sec? Wasn’t he into some…thing else more? Spotting the contract on the table, brainwashed eyes locking down on the numbered deposit stated in the paper.
Scanning up the freshly inked set of contracts, hands simultaneously kneading himself and twirling his moustache at the bold capital letters at the top.
Partnership? With…this guy? But why? They were both men for Pete’s sake! And there’s no way he’s doing it with that stickler! Specially in the workplace…his office.
The more he tried digging in the confines of his mind however…the more such traces of guy on guy activity…fizzle out of his era. Coloured flags becoming the same dull American patriotism most men always had since he was working under his former Boss and mentor.
Of course, not sayin’ he stuck to the mold.
A sharp man like him ain’t a part of the crowd. They’re already proceeding to the mid 1900s! The ladies preferred some man slicker, more cunning as they ruled above the other guy in a contract, the man in charge and not his employee…
Of course, Jonaseph’s southern roots kickin’ in, desperately trying to assist the otha guy with…some relationship issues, but from being grown from the county fair, raised and built up in the bustling city. He had been taught to be faithful to one woman only!
…No wait…that was not what he meant!
But as he tried sourcing his temples, the fine memories of going downtown with the farm with his gorgeous lady sent his attention flying away from da sleazy guy.
No…! Wasn’t he a ladies man? No! He was fine indeed~ Shaved with the trickles of aftershave around his cleft jaw, his gelled locks tucked underneath his Fedora like his bud across the table.
Heh, ‘bud’. A southern saying…as the residents of his town like to call em outsiders. But as for him, its reserved for those of em’ fellas that think they can outsmart em…
Right before realising they are in the rodeo…
Stoking their sizzling Cigars, tight steely Rumps clenched shut in the absence of any foreign trade. Two men fervently gripped themselves hard, fully made aware of the nature of the contract…
Jonaseph thinkin’ about his beautiful wife at home and how he’s looking forward to raising his kids to further on the Smith legacy. A traditional American marriage, built from the foundations of his nation and political party.
It was another agreement, one in which he knew how to take charge by FORCE if he needed to!
Contract signed, No questions needed to be asked.
It made sense that an ultra conservative man like Jonaseph would already have a wife.
Besides, he was a dirty sleaze-bag after all, far from a model citizen like Mr right-winged conservative opposite him. Who cared if the other man stuck to a lady like WHATEVAH! The less competition for him, tha better.
Fredklin sheepishly grinned.
“Heh, you’re missing out, sucker.”
With that, the forty something year old lenses spiralled into a sinister glare. Welcoming all the various maidens flooding into his mind, luxurious hotel rooms, and outwitting his opponents by nefarious means.
Who cares about love when can earn a quick buck? Slouching, tipping his fedora down, trading kindness for an insatiable greed as corruption flows into his system, saliva like venom…words seeping silently into his adversaries like they’ve never known.
Sides, he knows how to be charitable…as long as it profits him of course.
“Tha masses will hear what they oughta hear!”
A faithful, traditional, conservative marriage. Lifting his shoulders upward, spreading his wide muscular back across the confines of the chair as he leaned back. Pumping away his tool that will produce generations…after generations.
A Proud American father, his eyes glimmered rock solid competition. Dedicated to being the top of his nation, his wealth, and his political party, a true All-American Meal…providing for his wife every night in bed…
Everything pushes him up further, no matter how deceptive the challenge may be…
Churning hard, the two men yanked the brakes! Two men, such a bad influence on each other and yet…! AND YET!
They loved every second of it.
The two men blasted their barrels, full of grey selfish pride as waves of affirmation and prosperity poured onto their manly bodies.
Fishing out a quick handkerchief, the two business owners quickly wiped away their drool. Quickly extending out their arms for a handshake as though nothing personal has happened.
They were two men meeting for business after all.
“Ahem…as I was sayin Thank ya…”
A Quick cough, being a skilled ‘negotiator’ like himself, he never expected to be caught off-guard by another one of those ‘conservative cronies’ he’d meet on a weekly basis…
Its about time Mr Franklin Mason got some challenge. He definitely has to dedicate more of his personal time to this guy, and while he’ll miss having hot sessions every day…it will surely be worth the investment.
“No no, the pleasure’s all mine…”
Mr Joseph Smith, the poster American Man of his time, stumbled slightly…ever so faintly. He must have let his guard down when it came to the expensive cigars in the corner.
He was a Man for Smith’s sake! But MAN, was it thrilling to meet his match…corporation wise! Not that he will ever tell the otha’ guy of course…
“Thank you Mr Smith for signing the contract. With help from your Business, our profit-margin is sure to increase.”
That being said, something about Joseph Smith really gets him riled up…more so than those hot ‘chick flicks’ they started airing as of late.
Maybe he’ll be able to ride his arse and get to the top. He ought to be generous with tha’ guy, maybe even take him out for spin of drinks at the pub, just him and his charitable self.
He’s looking forward in corrupting that all-American family man…
“Of course. We look forward to corresponding more with you in the future, Mr Mason!”
Likewise for Mr Smith, most of his right-winged colleagues will be opposed to the idea of partnering anyone out of their inner circle, much less a notorious scammer.
But something about Franklin Mason really caught his eye…something exciting and exponential. Something that he’d probably tell no one, not even his wife about it.
He’s gonna have that scumbag all to himself.
But there certainly won’t be any ‘hand-holding’ aside from firm business handshakes, much less any ‘sweet talk’ between the two heterosexual men. What were they? A bunch of pansies?!
Rough, cold manliness, that’s more their cup of joe in the morning, and way late in the evening.
Ain’t letting the other outta their sights that’s for sure! From their workplace, to their hobbies and their women. With or without their permission…they will make sure to get their partner’s cooperation.
The competition is as good as smoked. Only be a matter of time till the Franklin and Joseph business duo end up in the big leagues. Controlling all the wealth and power and seizing a monopoly with them at the top.
The only question would be…whose gonna take charge and be leading their partnership.
Tightening their grip, the two businessmen narrowed their pupils as they starred into the other’s eyes. They could almost kiss the other, but alas its all ‘fair-game’ since the two of them are both men. And besides…
A sickening smirk over on the con-man.
An arrogant sneer over on the traditionalist.
Only one word had to be conveyed.
FRANKLIN N JOSEPH INC. , A FEARSOME COLLABORATION -193X
