Fanfic: Dancing And Singing And Farting
Hank/Sarah (Paul Dano) and Manny (Daniel Radcliffe} enjoy a meal in the forest.
Fandom: Swiss Army Man
Title: Dancing And Singing And Farting
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None.
Characters/Pairings: Manny/Hank Thompson, Chrissie, Sarah, Cop
Word Count: 1,489
Genres: Unabashed schmoop, hurt/comfort, necrophilia (kinda), mild slash, fix-it
Movie synopsis: [TL;DR] Hank, marooned on an island and at the verge of suicide, sees a corpse wash up on the beach. He rides the flatulent corpse through the waves like a jet ski until they make landfall. The corpse, Manny, becomes alive but remembers nothing. Hank teaches Manny about life, Manny teaches Hank that farting is nothing to be ashamed of, and they fall in love. At the end, Manny farts off to the blue horizon, while Hank is handcuffed for trying to escape from the police.
Summary: Hank isn't going to let Manny go that easily. Even if Hank is handcuffed and has a busted leg.
This is the beginning of the After Verse, what happened when the movie ended.
As he watched Manny’s gas send him out toward the horizon, thoughts crashed together in Hank’s head.
Sarah will get a restraining order
I'll be put in a mental institution
They got it all recorded
I'll be the crazy guy with the zombie
Shit
He pulled at the handcuffs behind his back. His throat was tight with heartache.
Manny was getting farther away, cutting through the crystal waves. Suddenly Hank felt a small pull, and the right handcuff fell open. He turned, startled.
The little girl giggled, the key clutched in her plump hand. “That was gross,” she said with a laugh, dramatically waving her other hand in front of her nose.
"Chrissie! What have you done?" cried Sarah, pulling her daughter back from the crazy guy who’d dragged a dead body onto her lawn. The policeman snatched the key out of her hand and started toward Hank.
Hank glanced back at the others. “Sorry-I gotta go-“
He charged back into the water. His injured leg caused him to fall into the ocean with a thumping splash.
"HEY! MANNY! WAIT FOR ME!" He gasped as the salt water sliced into his wounds.
"Sir, stop! Come out of the water!" yelled a policeman. “Stop!” The cop ran into the water after Hank.
But Hank wasn't going to stop. The cop grabbed Hank’s bad leg. Desperate, Hank kicked the cop in the chest with his other leg.
Oh god I just committed police brutality.
Manny was still in sight, farting like the Little Dead Man That Could.
"MANNY! WAIT FOR ME! HEY!"
Fortunately the low tide was pulling out to sea. Hank was a strong swimmer, he’d spent enough time swimming around the island, trying in vain to catch fish (He discovered bare hands didn’t cut it. But sand crabs were kinda tasty.)
Hank concentrated on not breathing too hard, not fighting the current, keeping his eyes fixed on the horizon. He heard the shouts from the shore grow fainter. Pain stabbed his leg every time he kicked, the handcuff slapped his left hand. Distractions, don’t think about the pain, keep swimming, keep swimming. He was sure he could see Manny out in the distance. “MANNY!” he shouted. A blast of saltwater hit him in the mouth. He choked, spat it out, and kept swimming.
I’m going to drown. Or a shark is going to eat me. Goddamnit, Manny. You saved me from killing myself, from a desert island, from dehydration, from hunger, from delusions that Sarah was The One, from a BEAR, you cannot let me DIE, ASSHOLE!
Hank turned his head. The figures on the beach were tiny. He turned back. The ocean was dark blue green, the sky blue above. His heart hammered. He gasped for breath.
Even if he wanted to, he didn’t have the strength to swim back, not with low tide. He was going to drown. Drowning looked so easy in the movies, the hero walked into the waves and disappeared, maybe with one artsy-fartsy shot of bubbles in the water. Real drowning was going to be a bitch and a half. Hank slowed, fatigue sweeping through his heavy limbs. He rolled over and floated on his back, getting his breath back. The current was going to out to sea. Okay. I’m going to drown. Do you shit yourself when you drown? Will I know?
The sky was blue, seagulls wheeling above him. He closed his eyes, dazed with exhaustion. He hoped a seagull wouldn’t crap in his face.
His eyes flew open as a wave rolled him over and a pair of hands grabbed him under the arms. He was pulled up out of the water, halfway across a surfboard-a dolphin-Manny?
“Hank! What are you doing--”
Hank closed his eyes again. “It took you long enough.” He fainted.
***************
“Hank! Hank!”
He came to. He was lying face-down crosswise on Manny’s torso, arms and legs dragging along in the water. Hank’s mouth was sticky from saltwater. The handcuff bumped easily against his left hand. Manny’s huge blue eyes stared at him, baffled. He held his head up out of the water. Somehow Manny had managed to slow his gas so that they were traveling at an easy pace, like a put-putting motorboat.
“Hank! You said thanks for showing them. You told me to go and that you’d be okay.”
“I’m not okay,” Hank croaked.
“Did you want to drown?”
“Manny, no, I didn’t-“ Hank gasped and coughed. He shifted, lifted a hand and pushed hard on Manny’s chest. He was rewarded with a gush of fresh water. He gulped it as it sprayed his face. This is so good. “Thank you. Thank you. You’re my multi-purpose tool guy.”
Manny laughed. “I’m your multi-purpose tool guy!”
“Shit, my leg hurts.”
“Why did you come out here? What if you drowned? Everybody would be so sad.”
“Manny, I didn’t want to be with those people.”
“Not even your dad?”
“Specially not my dad.”
“What about Sarah? Did you sing her our songs? Did you show her what we built?”
For a few seconds, Hank didn’t know what to say. Seafoam hit his face and he spat, then sighed. “Sarah didn't like us, Manny. She thought I was crazy.”
“Why?” Manny’s thick brows came together in a frown. “We traveled all that way. We sang Jurassic Park.”
“She didn’t understand. She didn’t want to hear our songs. Manny, we’re together, and I can’t lose you again.”
Manny smiled beatifically, blue eyes bright. Hank’s heart skipped a beat. “I really missed you, Hank. I was gonna to be dead again.”
“Don’t be dead.” Hank grinned, feeling ridiculously pleased. “Don’t be dead."
Manny started going faster, plowing and plunging through the waves. "I'm gonna stay alive! I’m gonna stay alive for you, Hank!!”
Seawater splashed into Hank’s face. "Ack! Slow down!"
Manny stopped farting, and tipped precariously to one side.
“No! Manny! Keep farting!”
Manny recommenced farting, righting himself. “Don’t do that again,” Hank said. Grunting, he swung around and pulled himself up and on top of Manny, until he was straddling his friend. It was the way he had ridden Manny away from the island. Except this time Manny was facing up at him, mouth open in that strange crooked smile. It gave Hank a shiver of excitement. The surf whipped into his face. The rocking of Manny’s body beneath him increased his excitement. He flashed back to the sweet urgent kiss they’d shared underwater. Manny’s soft lips. The air coming out of his mouth. Hank breathing in the air, floating, blissful. Flying into the air when the cork popped out of Manny’s butt.
To Hank’s amazement, he didn’t feel self-conscious gazing into Manny’s beautiful blue eyes. This is what you look like when you’re happy. I’m happy, too, buddy.
He lifted his left hand, careful to grip Manny's shirt front with his other hand. The handcuff pulled at his wrist. "We'll get this thing off--"
Manny reached up his right arm and steadied Hank. Hank had a pleasant jolt as Manny's hand went around his side. He'd forgotten that Manny had learned how to move.
"What's that?"
“It's just a thing. Trust me."
Hank lowered his arm and laid his hand on Manny's wet sleeve. Manny’s eyes sparkled.
Hank started, feeling something stirring against his butt. Manny was getting a boner. Oh dear God, Hank was suddenly really horny but they were sailing along and if he tried anything he’d get them both killed. “Your magic compass! It’s your magic compass!”
“Yeah! My penis feels happy!”
"Manny, your magic compass is going to find us a new home. We’re gonna find somewhere and build a-a log cabin. Maybe I’ll learn to play the guitar. We'll dance and sing and fart and we won't need anybody else! No more hiding! I’ll fart as much as you want!”
“Yeah! I’ll catch fish for you! You can ride my gas! You can drink my spit!” But then his face fell and he was silent for a long time. There was no sound but Manny’s body cutting through the water.
“But I loved Sarah. It makes me feel bad. Really bad, Hank.”
“You loved Sarah,” Hank said softly. “But not that Sarah. You love our Sarah.”
“Our Sarah.” Manny continued looking steadily at Hank, obviously working it out. “I love our Sarah. Even though you’re Sarah. But you’re also Hank. That’s very confusing.”
“Yeah,” said Hank with a delighted laugh. “We’ll laugh and sing and be confused because we are our own love triangle!”
He felt like his chest would burst with joy. They were both so weird, except now they were together and not weird any more.
“What does that mean, Hank?” Manny broke into a grin.
“We’ll figure it out,” Hank said. “It’s love. Love can be whatever it wants.”
“Hank, put your mouth on my mouth.”
Leaning down, he took Manny’s face in his hands and kissed him, the salt water on both their mouths. Manny’s lips were soft and tender, if slightly gray. There was still a little fresh water in his mouth. Hank tentatively sucked it out and swallowed. Lust shot through him. Manny’s body vibrated from the gas he was producing. His magic compass pushed against Hank’s butt. They’d figure out that one later.
Hank pulled his head away, glorying in Manny’s silly happy face, and then kissed him again. I love you. Hank wrapped his arms around his beloved multi-purpose tool guy, burying his face in Manny’s neck. Seawater smacked into his face. He coughed, and sat up so he was looking at Manny again, and started singing the theme from “Jurassic Park”.
“Da da DAH duh da!
Da da DAH duh da-“
Manny joined him, triumphantly singing together as they farted away to their future.
“Da da da DAH da duh duh DAH da!
Da da DAH da da da DAAAAH da...”