Converting Lee Goldberg to Fanfic: One NC-17 Snarry Fic at a Time

From Fandom wank wiki

August 21, 2006: Lee Goldberg hates fanfiction. This is a surprise to no one, except perhaps Kyler.

Kyler thinks that he, and he alone, can convert Lee Goldberg to the side of righteousness:

“	I write fanfiction and will always do so. I think bryley's wright Fanfiction is writen by fans for fans. So if you don't like it stay away from our communites and off our sites. Many complain about Fanfiction.nst Adult fanficton and say it noting rape fic's and stories on chan. Why are you even looking? I write slash and I state up front I do not own said book or movie. And make no money off them. My writings are pure fantasy are for other fanfiction lovers not for people like you!Fandom is too large to be push back or held down!	”
	— Kyler[1]

Surprisingly, Lee Goldberg is unimpressed by Kyler's eloquent defense.

So Kyler helpfully links Lee Goldberg to his very own NC-17 Snarry fanfiction.

That doesn't help, either.

• Wank Report

August 24, 2006: Kyler tries his luck with Lee's cooler brother Tod.

Unfortunately, Kyler is not the lucky sort.

• Wank Report

August 31, 2006: Kyler retreats to his LiveJournal to lick his wounds. His discovery: Fandom_Wank is mean, especially Lexin.[2]

And here you thought he was a troll.

Quotes

• "So what precisely was wee Kyle hoping to achieve?
  Paraphrase, with a bit of exaggeration:
  Lee Goldberg: All fanfic is evil, and teh smutty fanfic is teh ev0ler!
  Sad N00b/devious sockpuppet troll (strike out whichever is inapplicable): Oh. Sorry you feel that way. Please read my non-con, BDSM, Snarry chan and let me change your mind. /blatant exaggeration
  (the next bit is made up)
  Lee Goldberg: ZOMG, this was so hot, WRITE MORE SOON!" - Azazello

  "Do you actually own Lee Goldberg? Because if not, then that's fanfiction and you didn't even use a proper disclaimer! Don't make Lee call his internet lawyers!" - Aristea [3]

• "*headdesks*
  There is no right side in a war between idiots." - SLWatson, as a signed anonymouse [4]
• "Kyler, are you aware that John Irving and Richard Ford are dyslexic, too? That's one thing in common you share, other than the fact that two of you are world famous, best selling authors and one of you writes fan fiction about ass fucking Snape." - anonymouse, on Lee Goldberg's blog [5]
• "Kyler: Shakes-head* I'm writing as a hobby and do not post what write on fanfiction.net. My prpblems with dyslexia prevent it.
  Secondly no one in my fandom has ever mocked me cause they understand

  Looks like that's about to change." - Narcissam[6]

Snakes Lee Goldberg on a Plane Fanfic

• "Personally, I want Samuel L. Jackson to go in and taser both their asses." --Sorchar

  "Because he wants motherfucking Lee Goldberg out of his motherfucking fanfic? (...) I'm so very sorry" --flightstothesea

  "Don't be. I think I love you. Here, this is for you:

“	Samuel L. Jackson kicked down the door of Lee Goldberg's office, taser in hand and blood in his eyes. "That's it!" he announced, ignoring the terrified secretary who cowered under her desk. "Enough is enough! I have had it with this motherfucking critic ripping on the motherfucking fanfic!" Meanwhile, Lee Goldberg sat in his inner office, enjoying the sound of his own voice coming from his iPod. The earbuds blocked any other noise from reaching him, and so he was completely taken by surprise when the door flew off its hinges. He was too full of his own self-importance to move quickly, and Samuel L. Jackson subdued him easily. The taser blast should have been merely painful; however, Goldberg had pissed himself copiously at the sight of the righteously indignant actor, and the urine acted as a conductor right to the electrical outlet where Goldberg's vibrating dildo was plugged in. The sex toy short-circuited spectacularly, and Goldberg slumped over, unconscious, in a cloud of smoke. Samuel L. Jackson, who must always be referred to by his full name because he is JUST THAT AWESOME, shook his head. "Motherfucker smells like pork chops," he said as he lit a cigarette. "Damn. I used to like pork chops, too." He sauntered back into the outer office, pausing to lay a spectacular, toe-curling kiss on the secretary before walking outside to his vintage Triumph motorcycle parked by the curb. Kicking it into life, he rode off into the sunset, righteousness around him like Elijah's mantle. (No, fangirls, that's not Elijah Wood.) The End	”
	— Sorchar[7]