2011 Worlds: A Fanfic by Morozombie

This post is dedicated to the surprisingly large number of people who stumble upon this blog in their intrepid search for figure skating-related fanfic. This post is probably the reason why people looking for fanfic end up on this humble corner of the Internets instead, but you all have probably been disappointed with the lack of actual fanfic on this blog. UNTIL NOW!  

The scene was one of righteous victory. The sparkly and incredibly well-coached Florent Amodio perched atop the podium at the 2011 World Figure Skating Championships in Tokyo, flanked on his right by the equally well-coached and piratey Javier Fernandez. On Amodio's left was some naturally very untalented skater with way too much hair product in his hair to take seriously.

However, it was the handsome man with fabulous slicked-back hair and an impeccable suit that commanded the arena as he stood at the boards, basking in the attention of the lustily-cheering crowds. "If it were not for my voodoo then this glorious occasion would not be possible!" he crowed magnanimously. The skaters and the crowds nodded to the sonorous sound of Nikolai Morozov's words and knew that they were true.

After the three skaters finished their victory laps, the noticeably talentless third-place finisher came creaking up to the potent coach. This humbled, contrite skater mumbled, "I would like to return under your wing as your student. I have now seen the error of my ways and wish to return to the light."

"Yes, Daisuke, I am glad the fumes from your excessive use of hair product have not completely clouded your judgement. However, the fact is that you are a completely self-made skater and will never be able to do more than what you are ready to do," with that the fantastically-talented coach of champions dismissed him with a sweeping wave of his hand.

Next up to approach the victoriously supreme coach was the bumbling skater who managed to finish in fourth place despite polishing the ice with his posterior six times. "Please, Mr. Morozov," he said meekly, "please accept me as your student! I want to be world champion too!"

The roguishly handsome coach raised a perfectly-sculpted eyebrow. "Well, Patrick," he said, "unfortunately I have my hands full already with my supremely-talented students right now. However, given your uncanny ability to score high regardless of what you do on the ice, I have deemed you worthy of my choreography. With a crotch-grab or two, some glitter and a few more extraneous upper-body movements, perhaps one day you will be capable of artistic expression and be world champion too."

"Thank you!" gasped the inept Canadian, as the unbelievably genius coach swept past him in order to engage in (perfectly appropriate, thank you very much) public displays of affection with his attractive champion students. However, as he sauntered towards Amodio and Fernandez, a swarm of mediocre skaters who finished somewhere down the rankings clamored towards him, their incompetent eyes beseeching like simpering babies.

The masterful coach of substantial talent sighed. "First Takahashi, then Chan...and now Verner, Joubert, Abbott and Kozuka? I will have to beat them all off with a shovel. The labor I must endure!"

And so endeth the men's event at the 2011 World Figure Skating Championships.