Date: Tue, 25 Sep 2007 17:10:08 +1200 (NZST)
From: Nick Cramer <antinous48@yahoo.co.nz>
Subject: Leif Garrett vs Hardy Boys

This is a work of pure fiction.  It implies nothing about the real
lives or habits or sexual orientations of Shaun Cassidy, Parker
Stevenson or Leif Garrett.  If you like it, you can email me at
antinous48@yahoo.co.nz.

Pictures of Leif and of the Hardy Boys (Shaun Cassidy and Parker
Stevenson) in their 1970s prime are at
http://www.lostinthepast.net/litp.htm.  There is also an excellent
Leif collection at
http://dophinespage.tripod.com/leifphotogallery1.html
________

A TEEN IDOL AMBUSH: LEIF GARRETT AND THE HARDY BOYS

It was back in the late 70s. After the drubbing that Leif Garrett
suffered at the hands of Scott Baio on the beach, the two of
them became friends, to my amazement. Scott told everyone how
much he admired Leif's courage. He seemed sincere, yet I found
it hard to forget the tricks that Scott and his friends had played
on Leif, and the way in which Scott had prolonged Leif's
punishment. But Leif, always goodnatured, bore no grudges and
told me not to be a sourpuss.

Through Scott, Leif met some of the other teen TV stars of the
time, including Shaun Cassidy of The Hardy Boys. Shaun had
aspirations as a popsinger too, though his popularity was far
behind Leif's. I had told Leif how I enjoyed The Hardy Boys. Even
so, I was surprised when one day the phone rang and I heard
Leif's voice.

'Hey, Nick!' Leif said: 'You remember you told me that you'd like to
meet Shaun Cassidy? Well, now's your chance! He's invited me to
meet him tomorrow somewhere downtown. Maybe he wants me
as a guest in a Hardy Boys episode. Anyway, why don't you come
too? It's strictly informal, Shaun said (no agents or lawyers or
bodyguards), so I'm sure he won't mind!'

I accepted at once -- though later I began to think that there
was something odd about this invitation.

When we met the next day, Leif was wearing a thin gold chain
round his neck and a blue-and-white striped shirt that
highlighted the slimness of his waist below the neat chest of an
experienced swimmer. His sleeves were rolled up to the elbow,
and his shirt hung casually outside his thigh-hugging blue jeans.
These were tucked into calf-length suede boots with a long fringe
around the top. His light brown hair, smooth and luxuriant, spilled
over his shoulders and below his shirt collar. Under the influence
of Leif's enthusiasm and carefree smile, I forget entirely my
unease about our appointment with Shaun.

The address that Shaun had given to Leif was in a part of town
that neither of us knew, and it didn't look promising. The door
was in a dingy street full of liquor stores, strip clubs and
boarded-up shops.

'Well, he told me just to go in and wait,' said Leif. 'I guess he
chose somewhere where there was no chance that journalists or
showbiz people would see us.'

Remembering what had happened at our rendezvous with Scott
Baio, I wasn't too happy about entering that grim doorway, but
before I could say anything Leif was through it, and I followed. It
led us straight into what seemed to be a disused warehouse. A
few scraps of old newspaper and some empty beer cans littered
the bare concrete floor. Apart from that, in the light from a row of
grimy windows high in one wall, all one could see was peeling
paint, cobwebs and dust. The air was stuffy and hot.

'This doesn't look ...' I said. But before I could finish my sentence,
we heard the door close behind us, and a key turn in the lock.
Spinning round, we saw Shaun and also Parker Stevenson, his
co-star on The Hardy Boys. Each wore grubby jeans, trainers,
and a T-shirt. Parker glared icily. Shaun looked disconcerted at
seeing two of us, but tried to be cocky.

'Who's your friend?' Shaun snarled at Leif. 'You were meant to
come alone! Never mind, that little squirt won't give us much
trouble. We're gonna paste you to the floor, pretty boy, and it'll
be more fun with your friend here to watch.'

Leif's expression, so sunny a moment ago, turned to amazement,
then to a stern glare.

'So that was your plan, was it? Two against one! I should have
guessed ... But you punks have got a surprise coming!'

My mouth was dry, but Leif squeezed my shoulder and whispered
quickly into my ear: 'Don't worry, Nick! Parker is the tough guy, so
leave him to me. You just keep Shaun busy meantime, till I come
and deal with him.'

Leif was right about Parker. He was nearly ten years older than
Leif, and muscular. His tight T-shirt highlighted his impressive
chest. Leif was a good athlete, a skilled horseman and
skateboarder as well as a swimmer, with a neat, well-defined
body. But he was slimmer than Parker, and was clearly at a
disadvantage in weight. Shaun, by contrast to them both, was
flabby. He was strong enough, however, to be more than a
match for me. I found that out soon after I tackled him. Quickly
Shaun got his left arm around my neck from behind while he
twisted my right arm painfully behind my back. I flailed around
with my left arm, but could not dislodge Shaun's grip. He forced
me to my knees facing Leif and Parker.

'Now watch what happens to your pretty friend', hissed Shaun,
kneeling behind me. 'He won't be so pretty for long!'

Parker obviously didn't expect much resistance from his younger
and lighter opponent. He sauntered contemptuously towards Leif
and swung a fist at his midriff. But Leif demonstrated at once his
speed and agility.  He dodged Parker's blow and punched
Parker's chin, so that Parker's head snapped backward. This
wasn't what Parker had expected! He advanced again more
cautiously, launching a succession of swings at Leif's head.   But
Leif avoided them all, dodging or parrying expertly with his arms.
Parker was getting exasperated. Then came Leif's counterattack.
He bent low and landed a left and a right on Parker's exposed
belly. Parker, again taken by surprise, sagged and lowered his
arms, leaving his face unprotected. This enabled Leif to follow up
by smashing his right fist into Parker's left cheek, just below the
eye.

Parker fell and lay on his side groaning. I saw a look of disbelief
on his face. Pretty-boy Leif Garrett wasn't supposed to be a
fighter! Leif stood above him, rubbing his sore knuckles, but with
triumph in his eyes. Parker's groaning subsided and he lay still --
suspiciously still. But, to Leif, things seemed to be going exactly
to plan. He came over to me and Shaun and rammed a fist into
Shaun's left shoulder. Shaun gasped and relaxed his hold a little
as he and I fell sideways -- but I was too weak and too slow to
take the chance, and before I could pull myself free Shaun had
again tightened the pressure on my right arm.

>From my position on the ground I could see Leif's smiling face as
he bent over us, his long locks of brown hair dangling.  He was
intent on rescuing me from Shaun. 'Help's arrived, kid!' he
proclaimed gleefully. But suddenly he looked up, startled.  The
triumph in his face turned to puzzlement, then dismay. Almost
immediately he let out a yelp of pain and his eyes lost their focus.
I felt a sudden extra weight as Leif's body sagged limply on top
of Shaun and me. What had happened?

Only then did I see Parker standing above us. Parker's earlier
collapse had been a feint! He had been hurt (a bruise was
already showing on his cheek), but he had still been wily enough
to trick Leif into believing too soon that victory had come. Too
soon, indeed! Parker had just delivered a hefty karate chop to
Leif's neck!

The sarcastic leer on Parker's face contrasted chiilingly with what
Leif's face had turned into. Leif's huge dark eyes were now blank.
His full lips, whose warm reassuring smile had wiped away all my
doubts just moments earlier, were now slackly agape. Then, as
Leif's neck drooped, my sight of his face was replaced by a sight
of the back of his head, his glossy hair cascading over his shirt
collar, as slowly his body slumped to the floor.

It was now Parker's turn to look gleeful.  Leif lay face down, his
bent arms barely holding his chest and head off the filthy
concrete.  I yearned to help him, but Shaun still had me
immobilized. Leif, in a daze, was slowly pushing himself up,
blinking and shaking his head.  I looked down at Leif's neat
buttocks and his thighs, so firm and athletic inside the tight blue
jeans. Those strong legs ... at any moment, I thought, they will
catapult him into a counterattack! Leif will deal to Parker the
punishment he deserves for his sneakiness and arrogance...!

It wasn't to be.  It seemed as if Leif's lower body and his shapely
legs were numbed.  All I saw was Leif's back, presenting a wide
open target -- and Parker towering over Leif, preparing another
onslaught. Leif's tailored shirt with its jaunty blue-and-white
stripes drew attention to the contours of the hot young body
that his fans so admired.  But, in this bare-knuckle brawl that Leif
had been lured into, it was his musclepower, not his eye-appeal,
that were going to count.

'C'mon, Leif, you gotta get up!  Fight back!', I whispered,
dejected but beseeching.

Leif turned his head towards me.  His eyes refocussed.  His lips
moved, but whatever he was trying to say was inaudible.  Then
he cleared his throat, and I could hear a croaky whisper:  'Not
finished yet ...  Don't worry, Nick!'  He forced a smile, trying again
to reassure me.

Ironically, it was Shaun who intervened so as to help Leif. 'Hey,
let me have a turn! That pretty boy is my rival more than he is
yours!'

'OK, I've softened him up enough for you', replied Parker with
contempt in his voice. Shaun chose not to respond, but stood up
and released me, then walked over to Leif. Meanwhile, I was
helpless to resist as Parker calmly got me in his grip.

Shaun waited cynically while Leif staggered to his feet, swaying
as he still fought to overcome the effects of Parker's blow to his
neck. Then Parker pressed my head to the ground so that for a
while all I could see of the other pair was their feet: Shaun's
trainers and Leif's suede boots.

The two of them grappled, Shaun apparently attempting to get
Leif in a bearhug. I could see Leif's smooth-soled boots slipping
and sliding as Shaun forced him backwards. But even though
Parker's blow had taken its toll on Leif, he was still more agile
than Shaun. I saw Leif's left leg hook behind Shaun's right and
unbalance him, so that he fell heavily face down.  My heart leapt
with glee!  Quickly Leif was astride Shaun's lower back, his legs
squeezing Shaun's body and trapping his arms.  Sitting upright
and confident, with his hands under Shaun's chin, Leif was
bending Shaun's flabby bulk in a painful camel clutch.  Leif flashed
me a wide radiant grin.  The tables were turned once more!

'Not bad, kid!' said Parker, acknowledging Leif's comeback:
'You're giving us a good workout!'

But Shaun didn't take it quite so lightly. 'Hey, he's hurting me!' he
panted. 'Hurt that other guy ... until ... he begs this creep to get
off me!'

'NO!' I yelled, realizing that it would be fatal for us both if Leif
gave up his advantage. But then I yelled even louder, wordlessly,
as Parker twisted my right arm ever harder.  It felt as if he was
wrenching it out of its socket. Leif looked over at me, anxious and
sympathetic.  Then, with a sigh of resignation, he released his
grip on Shaun's chin and slid off him. Parker ended my torture
and my yell turned to a whimper. Leif knelt, head bowed, beside
the still prostrate Shaun.

 'Sorry!' I whispered to Leif.

'It's me who should be sorry!' Leif said softly in reply: 'I got you
into this!'

Shaun lay on his front panting and making no effort to get up.
'Well, I see it's going to be up to me to finish off the pretty boy --
he's more than you can handle!' sneered Parker.

Parker flung me aside and sauntered over to face the still
kneeling Leif. Parker pulled Leif to his feet by grabbing his shirt.
He ripped it open. Leif's chest was now fully exposed. Parker and
Leif faced each other for the second time.

What could I do to help my ally? Nothing!  Even if Shaun had not
grabbed hold of me again, my whole body was still numb with
pain from Parker's ferocious armtwisting. I could only watch
whatever happened next between Parker and Leif.

Both fighters were now grubby from the dirt on the floor. Parker
looked grim but calmly thoughtful, as if contemplating what
damage to do next to his younger opponent. In Leif's face, his
eyes riveted on Parker, there was still determination, but it was
mixed now with uncertainty.

Leif's advantage before had been in his speed, and he clearly
thought now too that attack would be the best form of defence.
He went in close, fists flying.  Parker was defending himself more
carefully this time, but even so a couple of Leif's jabs landed on
Parker's ribs, and I could tell from Parker's face that they weren't
powder-puff punches.

'Go, Leif! You're hurting him! Hurt him more!' I yelled.

Leif heard me.  He smiled.  For half a second, his eyes wandered
away from Parker towards me ...

WHAM!  That half-second was long enough for Parker to take Leif
by surprise.  Parker's fist landed in Leif's unprepared abs.  Leif
staggered backwards.  He seemed about to fall, but recovered
himself, and he kept his guard up.  That was just as well,
because Parker now decided to test Leif's defenses, pummeling
Leif's arms with a rapid heavy tattoo of blows. If Leif had been in
any doubt before about what he was up against, Parker's weight
and musclepower were dispelling that doubt now ...

Hunched over, Leif retreating under the rain of punches until his
back was against the wall. Then, wildly, he jabbed back at
Parker.  Parker responded by backing away again, a smirk on his
lips, as if challenging Leif to recapture the initiative. I saw Leif's
face too: his eyes fixed on Parker, defiant but ... hesitant, and no
longer smiling.

The two young men circled each other now for what seemed like
an age.  Both were breathing heavily. Leif crouched low in a
defensive martial-arts posture, his forearms and hands raised to
fend off any attack, but seemingly reluctant to hazard another
attack of his own. In the stifling atmosphere of the warehouse, a
dark stain of sweat was spreading rapidly over the back of his
shirt.  The striped cotton was glued to his shoulders and spine
but hung loose from his chest and belly. From where I lay, looking
up at him with the windows behind me, I could see glints of light
from the buckle on the belt of Leif's jeans and from beads of
perspiration trickling down his lightly tanned satin-smooth torso.

Suddenly Parker lunged at Leif. With both hands he seized Leif's
right wrist, yanking and twisting Leif's arm so as to force him to
round ninety degrees. I had a view of Leif's back tilted towards
me. The sweaty shirt now dangled loose, sliding away so as to
leave his left shoulder bare.  His feet stumbled and slipped.  With
his left hand he grabbed at Parker, as if to try to prise his right
wrist free. But then his left arm swung wildly in the other
direction, flailing in the air as Leif struggled to keep his balance.
His hair swung wildly too, at first obscuring his face and then
allowing me a perfect view of it in profile, his dark eyes glaring at
his enemy.

Now Parker gave Leif's right arm another savage jerk.  I shut my
eyes. I knew Leif was about to topple helplessly backwards, and
I didn't want to see it.  But I couldn't prevent myself from hearing
the sound of Leif's shoulders and the back of his head hitting the
concrete floor -- a horrible crunch, immediately followed by Leif's
loud yell: 'Owwhh!'.  I winced in sympathy.

Much as I hated to see Parker get the upper hand, stronger than
that was my anxiety to know what plight Leif was in.  So I looked
again.  Right there in front of me were Leif's head and shoulders
as he lay flat on his back, and his arms lying limp, almost at right
angles to his body.  Beyond were his foreshortened torso and his
splayed legs.  His rumpled unbuttoned shirt exposed his abs and
the left side of his chest.

Leif began to move his head.  As if half-blindeded, he had to peer
around him before he could locate Parker. Then slowly he lifted
his head, propping himself on his elbows. Parker, with folded
arms, stood looking down as, with painful slowness, Leif bent
one knee, then straightened his arms, then bent the other knee
...  Next he was squatting on his heels like a Russian gopak
dancer, but still leaning back, supporting himself with his hands
on the floor ...

Parker chose his moment.  He dropped his body, like a
blockbuster bomb, on to Leif.  His weight was concentrated
through his knees in the middle of Leif's chest.  Leif's back was
slammed hard to the floor a second time.  His feet slid out from
under him.  His hands too skidded sideways as his elbows
buckled under the sudden impact.

Parker, still kneeling on Leif's chest, grabbed his wrists and
pinned them to the floor. But to my amazement, Leif began to
fight back immediately. His legs were still free.  He began to use
his legs to push up his lower body, so as to twist out from
Parker's pin. He managed to raise his hips and buttocks a few
inches off the floor.  It looked as if, with just one agile twist and
heave, he would escape from Parker's grip and be back on his
feet!

But ... this was no longer the lightning-fast Leif that Parker had
encountered five minutes before. Those two impacts, from the
karate chop and the hard concrete floor -- the effect of them on
Leif was evident. Against this slower, weakened Leif, Parker had
time for a merciless repeat attack. Half-standing, he once more
slammed his knees down on to his lighter opponent. Bearing the
brunt this time was Leif's unprotected sweat-glistening stomach.

Leif's lower back was ground into the hard concrete. What's
more, he had again had no time to tighten his abs. His body
reacted as if he had received an electric shock. His legs shot out,
ramrod-straight, then fell flat on the floor.  There was a pause.  I
waited for Leif's fight-back, but ... this time he lay motionless.
Instead I heard Shaun's voice from above me.

 'Hey, we'll move round for a better view,' Shaun was saying. And
he shifted me and himself so we were looking at Leif sideways
on.

Leif was recovering -- if you can call it a recovery.  He was rolling
his head from side to side, gasping for breath with wide open
mouth, his ribcage shuddering with the effort. His long hair lay
tumbled across the floor around his head, exposing his pale
slender neck.

Parker, kneeling on Leif's abs, looked across at me: 'You like
watching your buddy in a fight, don't you!'   I felt myself blush,
and said nothing.  'Yeah, you enjoy it, even when the pretty boy
is getting wasted ...' Parker went on. 'Well, there'll be plenty
more to enjoy!'

As if in answer to Parker, Leif's elbows began to move as he
struggled to wrench his wrists free. He growled wordlessly. His
upper body squirmed and writhed as he strained every sinew
against Parker's weight.

I found my voice.  'Use your legs again, Leif!' I yelled.

Leif could indeed still move his legs freely. Could he use them to
try to dislodge Parker? Yes! He slammed a knee and thigh hard
against Parker's back. Parker was visibly startled at the force of
the jolt. Then Leif rammed the other knee into Parker -- then
both knees at once. Parker lurched and nearly toppled over. He
recovered -- but would he recover next time?

Seconds turned to minutes. The athletic legs of a swimmer were
Leif's weapons now.  With desperate energy he kept flinging his
legs upward, hammering repeatedly with his knees and thighs at
Parker's body. I watched Leif's boots flailing in the air, the long
suede fringes swinging wildly, and those muscular thighs of his,
sheathed in tight blue denim. Surely, surely, this onslaught must
have an effect on Parker!

But it was easy for Parker to maneuvre himself so that Leif's
blows would have minimum effect. Leif realized this too.  In a
slow diminuendo, what had begun as a formidable battering
grew weaker.  I could tell that Parker's relentless weight, with his
knees grinding into Leif's stomach, was sapping Leif's energy.
Leif was twisting his head from side to side, frowning and
grunting in frustration.  Increasingly often, his legs managed only
to give Parker's back a gentle nudge. Then, more often than not,
he wasn't making contact at all. Leif's knees still jerked
frenziedly, but ever more feebly.

>From the agonized but defiant expression on Leif's face I could
tell that his pride forbade him to give in.  Even if he could muster
only token resistance, at least he was still resisting ... Yet in the
end he could scarcely lift his feet off the floor. All his legs could do
was squirm and twitch helplessly.  At last I heard the scraping
sound of his boot heels on the concrete, as his legs slowly
straightened and relaxed in exhaustion.

'Ready to give up, pretty boy?' asked Parker.

Through Leif's parched lips his breathing was ragged. Pain and
desperation were reflected in his glazed eyes. Yet ... I saw the
ripple of muscles in Leif's flank, exposed by his torn shirt, as he
struggled yet again to arch his back and lift his shoulders off the
floor. I saw Leif's left hand, his fingers instinctively bent into a
claw shape even though, with his wrist immobilized, there was
nothing for him to grasp.  I saw the shadowy cave of Leif's
armpit, framed by a straining pectoral muscle and taut bicep.
Incredibly, heroically, Leif was still refusing to admit Parker's
domination of him.

'OK, if that's how you want it', said Parker. 'Besides, I still haven't
paid you back for punching my face!'

I shuddered ... But it turned out that Parker had something less
obvious in mind. Calmly he forced Leif's left arm down so that it
lay close to his side, then he transferred his right knee on to it,
so that one knee immobilized Leif's arm while the other
maintained the pressure on his stomach. Earlier Leif could easily
have escaped from such a precarious hold, but now he could do
no more than squirm ineffectively. Straddling Leif, his left hand
still pinning Leif's right wrist to the floor, Parker drew back his
right arm and brandished a menacing fist.

'See this?' snarled Parker: 'It works like a meat tenderizer.'

And he slammed his fist down on to Leif's upper arm, mashing his
bicep.

Leif bit his lip, glaring coldly up at Parker. Then Parker punched
Leif's bicep again. Then his forearm, then his shoulder, then his
bicep a third time ... I lost count.  'AAAH ...!' At last Leif couldn't
hold back a yell of pain. His legs jerked and he threw back his
head, turning his face away from me and Shaun as if to hide his
humiliation. For the single punch with which Leif had
unexpectedly floored Parker at the start of the fight, Parker was
taking multiple revenge. The muscles of Leif's right arm and
shoulder -- by now they had all the strength of overcooked
spaghetti.

'Stop it! Let the poor guy go!  You've beaten him!' I panted, still
in Shaun's grip.

'Not yet!' said Parker. 'It's time to give this pretty boy another
chance at boxing! We'll see if he's still so good at it!'

So saying, Parker got up and stood with arms folded, sneering
down at the punished pop idol. Leif gazed blearily up, just
managing to raise himself on his left elbow, his useless right arm
lying bent at his side.

'I'll even help him to stand up!' said Parker.

He reached down, grabbed Leif's belt and a handful of his hair,
and hauled him to his feet like a rag doll. Parker held Leif upright
as Leif, who seemed scarcely conscious, lolled his head on
Parker's left shoulder. They remained like that for some seconds,
in a kind of embrace, so I had time to take in the whole picture.

Both Leif's arms hung limp and his knees were sagging. Locks of
his hair were glued to his neck and shoulders with sweat. His
shirt had long since slid off his left shoulder.  Now the shirt slid off
his right shoulder too, so that it dangled from his elbows. For the
first time I saw Leif's back naked.  His lowslung jeans
emphasized how narrow his hips were and how slim his waist,
while cruel red blotches marked where his shoulder blades had
collided with hard concrete.

At last Leif raised his left hand and grasped Parker's forearm with
surprising firmness. He seemed to be trying to push himself away
and stand on his own feet again.

'That's right, that's what I want!' snarled Parker.

Leif straightened his left arm, no longer leaning against Parker
but still holding on to him for support. Leif then forced his head
up, so that he could look into his opponent's eyes. Parker
wrenched himself from Leif's grasp. Leif staggered but managed
not to fall. His shirt dangled from his forearms and trailed on the
dirty floor behind him.  But his head was still erect, his gaze was
steady, and his battered torso shone out more gloriously than
ever.

Parker's eye seemed to be caught, just as mine was, by Leif's
gleaming hairless chest.  He landed two light teasing jabs in the
middle of it, a left and a right. Instinctively Leif brought up his one
good arm to try to defend himself.  But his eyes were half-closed
and his chin was beginning to sag again.  He seemed almost to
be sleep-walking. How long could this torture last?

'Don't worry, kid, you put up a good fight, so I won't spoil your
face!' said Parker. Saying this, he patted Leif's cheeks with both
hands.

I groaned and squirmed. After all Leif has suffered, how dare
Parker patronize and taunt him like this!  I'm Leif's friend, it
should be my hands stroking his beautiful face, my arms
supporting his tired body, my lips consoling him! ...

Then Parker did something that inflamed my fury and envy even
more.  Lightly, caressingly, with one finger, he traced the line of
Leif's jaw.  But Leif took immediate revenge.  He jerked his head
aside.  When he looked back at Parker, all the sleepiness had
gone.  On his face was an expression of fierce bitter contempt.

'Huh!'  Parker snarled: 'I might have let you off, but ...'  Then he
drew back his fist for what would clearly be the final blow. I shut
my eyes and turned my head aside, hearing but not seeing
Parker's pile-driver punch.

'UNNHHH...!' I heard Leif's loud groan as his knees buckled and
he crumpled to the floor.

My eyes were still shut when the door closed. Our two
tormentors had left. It was a little while, even then, before I
could bring myself to look torwards where Leif lay. He was curled
up on his side, clutching his stomach. As I crawled towards him,
he managed to get to his knees. He was disfigured with sweat
and grime, but, as Parker had promised, his face had been
spared. Even Parker acknowledged, I suppose, that some things
are too beautiful to spoil.