James West – Night of Forced Hegemony – Scene 3 (of 3) – by Amalaric

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Scene Three

James West lay on the stone floor of the cellar- stark naked, shivering in a puddle of his own cold sweat and bleeding from multiple lacerations- willing himself, mercilessly, not to pass out. Betrayal was a bitter draught to swallow and the wounded secret agent vowed with all the steely strength of his formidable will that someday he would kill Artemus Gordon for what he had done…and it didn’t matter whether the traitor died fast or slow, James West wasn’t that kind of man, but die he most certainly would. That the young secret service agent would eventually escape and that all would somehow, impossibly, be well was a certainty to a mind trained in relentless optimism and boundless faith in his own capabilities. He was James West, confidante of presidents, specimen of physical perfection and extraordinary mental acuity, a well paid public servant with his own private train…how could he not prevail at the end? And then his confidence, born of a slow-dancing opportunism that was part genetic and part the result of decades of assiduous practice, would suddenly waver. Jim would convulse, choking on still-born sobs that filled him with unreasoning shame, as the dreaded name echoed in his mind like a gunshot- Miguelito Loveless…Doctor Miguelito Loveless…Artemus’ cruel parting words, uttered with a sneer as the heavy door to the cellar slammed and was bolted shut plunging Jim into darkness, ticked in his mind inexorably as a doomsday clock; he was the helpless prisoner of a diminutive madman capable of anything…anything at all. Continue reading

James West – Night of Forced Hegemony – Scene 2 (of 3) – by Amalaric

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Scene Two

James West; secret service agent, handsome and muscular, self-confident, clever, and just generally a cool guy…stood, stripped buck naked, on the cold stone floor of the abandoned factory somewhere in the forested wasteland of the Sacramento River Delta. The year was 1871 and Ulysses S. Grant was the oft besotted President of the United States of America and occasional confident of the captive agent. They had known each other since half way through the Civil War when Grant was a rising star in the struggling Union Army and West an earnest and impossibly young civil servant with extraordinary athletic charm fresh from the flatland of the grassy corn-strewn Midwestern plains. Both wanted something better from life; Grant found it in naked power and the bottom of a bottle, James West in adrenaline-fuelled patriotic adventure.

Though it was true that the pair had indulged, one memorable evening, in some amorous play…it was nevertheless a self-evident fact that James West was, in his own way, as straight as the eventual freeway built in the far future that split the San Joaquin Valley clean in half and eventually ran, all unknowing, within a very few miles of that place in the Sacramento River Delta where even now (in 1871) the captive secret service agent stood stark naked and wracked with uneasy anxiety waiting for God knew what at the hands of his erstwhile partner Artemus Gordon…but I digress. Ah, what the hell!! First, understand- that freeway runs like an arrow for over two hundred miles and James West was every bit as straight as that and, if you are interested, possibly Ulysses S. Grant as well. Still, boys will be boys and war is tough and often lonely business. I know…you want to get to the part where Jim gets tortured, right? We will, I promise, but if you want to understand the inner anguish of the handsome secret service agent…well then, continue to read my brief preamble. Continue reading

James West – Night of Forced Hegemony – Scene 1 (of 3) – by Amalaric

Hi Aquadude,
Love your photo montage of the great James West.
In the spirit of that great actor and era, attached find a much longer piece with manips that you may want to post at the Bunker. It is called The Night of Forced Hegemony and comes in three ‘scenes’. Attached to this note- scene 1 with manips.
(Click image to enlarge.)

The Night of Forced Hegemony:


The train clattered comfortably, rocking sensuously along the trajectory, lulling James West into a womb-like stupor as he leaned into the brocaded velvet sofa set against the vibrating wall of one of the lushly appointed compartments shared with his partner Artemis Gordon. Even so, cat-like, with hard body coiled beneath seeming insouciance, he was ever-ready for action and primed for the slightest provocation or response to danger. All seemed well and he half-closed hooded blue-green eyes and scratched sexily at the pelt of short, curling hair peeking from the top of his shirt. ‘They’re starting to call this the Victorian Era, did you know that Artie?’ Gordon pretended to snore in a mauve-colored alcove but James knew better, or thought he did, having caught the glint of an obsidian eye perusing his crotch on the sly not five minutes before. Artie, Artie…!!! How come you never seem to care when I ALWAYS get the girl? And, come to think of it…why are you so good at those disguises you get up to, especially the ones that involve, ah, cross dressing?? Thoughts kept to himself, the handsome James West nevertheless cracked a broad smile as Gordon’s inky eyes flew open, fully awake. ‘Is that so?’ West’s sidekick faked a theatrical yawn. ‘That’s right, my friend, they’re calling it the Victorian Era after that fat old bitch in London…fucking Brits think they own the whole world instead of their goddam three fifths…’ Both agents laughed the superior mirth of young, post-Civil War America beginning to flex her muscles and Artemis, shaking his head, lurched across the swaying compartment and uncorked a bottle of champagne. ‘Here’s to us, Jim, and another assignment finished with both of us alive to enjoy another day…’ He gazed out the compartment window looking doubtful into a night time landscape of grey shadows. ‘I’m troubled, though,’ the champagne bubbled in twin glasses and he handed one to West, ‘how did that slippery, butt ugly, if admittedly bright little midget maniac get away?’ James West merely shrugged, stretching long legs in impossibly tight blue trousers sensuously along the humming corridor. Dr. Loveless- approximately three feet of vicious, homicidal criminal intent- was far from his mind…and besides, Artie, we saved San Francisco didn’t we? And there you go again, staring at my crotch… ‘Damn, James,’ Artemis cocked an eyebrow and daintily loosened his collar, ‘Summer here in the Delta sure gets muggy!’ He raised a leaded glass window to let in the breeze even as his partner, the very macho James West, sighed and obediently peeled off his shirt. Continue reading

Wild Wild West follow-up – Aquadude

Hi Guys,

In his 252nd “Night” this week, Amalaric featured Robert Conrad, the incredibly handsome star of the Wild Wild West 1960’s TV Series. In response to the enthusiastic comments, I am re-presenting here the Wild Wild West Bunker Series I put together a few years ago.

Hero-in-distress scenes from all four seasons are presented sequentially. Season 1 was in black-and-white, Seasons 2 to 4 were in color. My format has my selected images surrounding a drawn figure of a western agent, (the way each show actually began).


To go to the series, click URL:

Wild Wild West | Aquadude Bunker


Robert Conrad as James West


Wild Wild West