Fifty Shades Of Sparkling Vampires With Dragon Tattoos That Play Starvation Games (2 page)

Instead he reconciled his sordid past
and came back even more schlongtastic than ever. Nil bought
Katnella flowers, then took her out to a romantic dinner. But the
bedroom was the true test. And he did not disappoint. The pounding
was profound. The most romantic rodding Katnella had ever had. It
was a meat stick masterpiece. Finally, Nil's dong destiny had been
fulfilled. And their sex life would never be the same.

The End.

The Complete Sparkling Vampire Parody
Collection

Hey Sparkling Vampire, Let’s Get It
On

It was hard to believe a mopey girl
like me could attract the attention of so many guys when a goth
convention wasn't even in town. But there mousey old me was with
guys literally willing to rip each other apart like sumo wrestlers
at an all you can eat buffet. I hated to report that popularity
wasn't all it was cracked up to be though, unless your idea of a
good time involved hunting teenage girls for sport (did I just
stumble into a Starvation Games spoof?). But with all the blood
lusting and loin lusting going on, I may have gotten ahead of
myself. Let me take you back to the beginning:

In the beginning, God created the
heavens and earth...no no no. Not the biblical beginning, although
kudos God for this kick ass planet. I was talking about the
beginning of my gangly little awkward story (are you tired of me
emoting yet?)

To Phoenix we go, the birthplace of
oppressive heat (and some pretty decent chalupas too). But even
though it was 120 degrees in the shade, at least it was a dry heat.
Anywho, there I was, just pouting my life away. Then my Mother had
the nerve to go and be happy, leaving me to be sullen and
oversensitive alone. What ever happened to "the family that mopes
together, stays together"?

Yup, my Mom went and got smitten like a
newborn kitten, marrying a minor league baseball player (way to hit
a home run Ma). Baseball analogies were not so kind to me though.
My life turned into one big whiff as my Mom shipped me off to
Spork, Washington so she could canoodle in private.

***

Wow. It turned out Washington state was
as rainy as my disposition (and I was worried I'd have nowhere to
brood). My Dad picked me up with as much interest as anyone would
having a teenager pawned off on them. You'd think we'd have a lot
to catch up on after so many years apart, but my Father could only
carry on conversations with saxophones. At first I thought it was
strange that a man could be fluent in brass instruments yet
dumbstruck by English. Then I saw the creepy, isolated, middle of
nowhere adjacent cabin he lived in and the years of bumbling
awkwardness finally made sense.

I could not begin to tell you how
jazzed I was to live in a creepy cabin that scared sunlight away.
The locals were friendly though. One neighbor in particular, a guy
named Second Fiddle who'd had a crush on me since we were both
kids. But since he hadn't gone off and developed a dreamy six pack
yet, I was not going to swoon so soon.

School came by in a hurry, and brought
a new bonanza of awkwardness with it. I could have hid in my
sweater and developed a new set of submarine social skills I was so
uncomfortable. But maybe chemistry class would make the perfect
metaphor for my hormones to bubble over. Remind me to send a thank
you card to metaphors, because of all the pale as an albino hunks
in the world, my butt got to park next to the palest. If I haven't
mentioned it before, nothing made me go hubba hubba like a guy that
made a whiteout seem colorful. And Hunky McBrooding was as pasty as
a girl could ask for.

My heart started to do a little happy
dance the minute I saw Hunky. But just my pessimistic luck, the guy
seemed to hate the very sight of me. You would have thought I'd
farted in his mouth by the way he scowled at me. Once I ruled out
renegade halitosis or a stray booger hanging out of my nose, I was
stumped at how I could have made an enemy so quickly (he hadn't
even heard me do karaoke). And what a hunky enemy he was. The
dreamiest kind of perfection. I could have swooned all the way to
June if he wasn't busy burning a hole in me with his debonnair
death stare.

Since I'd suddenly become enemy number
one to the hottest guy in the history of the universe, school
became as appetizing as moldy cafeteria food. But because of some
weird new thing called education, my Dad forced me to go back the
next day. To my shock, ol' hunky mcglares a lot was a no show. And
then again the next day. Had I driven him to a life of solitary
alpaca farming? Had she skipped town and joined a band of nomadic
unicycling mime's? Or maybe he just had diarrhea. Wait a minute,
perfectly good hunks didn't ever have runny poop. Immediately I
scoured for the nearest alpaca farm.

After popping a few over the counter
horse tranquilizers, I calmed down. Well, as much as a teenage girl
deep in irrational infuated lust could. Much to the exasperation of
my ping ponging emotions, the hunk returned the following day with
his luscious loins all accounted for. Luckily for me, he also
decided to bring some chill pills along with him, allowing us to
have a genuine conversation instead of a staring contest into the
abyss. Granted the conversation was about complex carbohydrates,
but I got a sweet tooth just looking at the guy.

But from a couple of syllables to a
breakthrough we went. And I had a dumbass to thank for it (yay for
stupidity). It turned out parking lots were dangerous places (and
surprisingly enough this story did not involve a geezer from
Florida driving like a blind bat). It did however involve a pick up
truck on a collision course with my mortality. But before some dumb
teenage driver ran me over (is there any other kind?), a knight
with skin as pale as armor swooped in out of nowhere and saved my
heiny. My life flashed before my eyes, peanut butter stained
unicorn pajamas and all, but it turned out the afterlife didn't
have a reservation for me.

It was the most amazing moment of my
life, except the fact that I pooped in my panties. You'd think
after saving someone's life, you'd want to stick around to have a
parade thrown in your honor. At the least he could have let my buy
him a day old donut from the cafeteria. But Hunky couldn't wait to
get away from that scene. He was off like a butt naked bandit
fleeing a nude beach filled with manboobs. Meanwhile I was left to
ponder, ruminate, and do other deep thinking adjectives.

"Hey dumbass, get out of the road," a
Kid said from his car.

Sidenote: if you're going to get
existential, you shouldn't do it in the middle of the
road.

***

I couldn't stop thinking about almost
being flattened like a pancake. All the way up until the accident,
Hunky was nowhere to be found. Then all of a sudden at the last
moment he swooped in faster than a ninja. Sure I was happy to be
alive and pouting again, but the whole rescue seemed ridonkulously
improbable. I figured it was time to get sleuthing. And who better
to do that with than a lovestruck puppy dog of a neighbor who
didn't have a shot in hell of winning my affection?

"I know he just saved your life, but I
make some mean brownies. I think we could have some real fun
together," Second Fiddle said.

"I want someone I can mope with," I
insisted. "Now tell me everything you know about Hunky
McBrooding."

"You don't want him. The guys a
vampire. Well, rumored to be a vampire. And if you're going to date
a weirdo creature of the night, let's be honest, it should be a
werewolf. Good thing I might happen to know one--"

"A vampire? Swoon to the
moon."

"You know vampires have no soul, right?
Werewolves meanwhile--"

"Why do you keep bringing up
werewolves? Could you imagine the kind of bad breath a hairy mess
like that would have? Besides, he'd probably always want to do it
doggystyle. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a meeting with a sexy
pair of fangs. "

***

"Why don't you just admit you're a
vampire so I can fall hopelessly in love with you? I've thought of
a whole bunch of boneheaded ways I can risk my life so you can
sweep in at the last minute and save me," I bragged.

"Vampires are no more real than
athlete's foot or crooked politicians," Hunky insisted.

"Uh, Hunky...almost all politicians are
crooked," I pointed out.

"In that case, it looks like you've
outsmarted me. Maybe we should fall instantly in love and frolick
around like brain dead ninnies."

"That sounds like a dream come true.
Frolicking is my second favorite hobby behind disappointing
intellectuals with my lack of emotional complexity."

"If we are going to have an epic tongue
tug of war, I do have to warn you about the secret I have under my
clothes."

"Oh God, you have a tiny pecker, don't
you? No wonder you brood so much."

"No no, not a surprise in my pants.
Although I think you'll be happily surprised by my dingaling. I
mean a surprise like I sparkle in the sun."

"You must be a real hit at parties. And
just think, I'll never have to worry about accessorizing again. Now
I expect your tongue down my throat in five seconds or I might just
die of excitement."

***

"Wow, that was better than a month of
moping. Yipee for tongue acrobatics," I swooned, after some
hardcore heavy necking.

"You know, that's not all I'm good at,"
Hunky insisted. "I can do a whole bunch of other things vampires
can't normally do."

"What, you mean like your own dry
cleaning? Astrophysics? Sitting through an entire slideshow of my
Aunt Ethel's trip to the paper mache museum without nodding
off?"

"I meant things like flying and reading
people's minds."

"Woo, what am I thinking about right
now? I'll give you a hint: it doesn't involve monkeys playing
shuffleboard."

"That's the thing. One of the reasons I
was drawn to you was because I couldn't read your thoughts. There's
so much mystery to you."

"Mystery? There are hide and seek games
with more intrigue than my life. "

"Forgive my nincompoopery. I am
distracted by your beautifully bulging veins."

"I'm distracted by something of yours
that's bulging too," I replied.

"You probably have the most arousing
hemoglobin of any pouty girl I've ever met. I could suck you to
within an inch of your life."

"You know, some girls would think that
was horribly creepy, but I call it love at first bite."

"But I haven't actually bitten you,"
Hunky countered.

"Jeez, you're 104 years old and you
don't know what a metaphor is? No wonder you haven't graduated from
Spork High yet."

"Why don't we fly through the forest
together to distract from the creepiness of a century old vampire
getting freaky deaky with a teenage girl?"

"Gosh, why do you have to bring details
into my wildly improbably love life?"

***

"Hey look, if it isn't my disapproving
family coming over to be a buzzkill," Hunky bemoaned.

"You're 104 and you still live with
your parents?" I asked.

"He's my sire, not my Dad. But yes,"
Hunky answered.

"Please tell me you don't live in the
basement and play bass in a ska band."

"Ska is for wusses. I play the pan
flute."

"Hunky, we have a big problem," Bummer
O'Buzzkill said.

"You didn't run out of constipation
cream again, did you?" Hunky asked.

"There's a rogue coven of vampires that
want to hunt your new girlfriend for sport," Bummer
explained.

"I knew there was a reason I always
hated sports. Especially curling," I replied. "Sweeping a patch of
ice is dumber than putting a gerbil up your butt."

"This is serious," Bummer replied. "The
vampire hunting you is more demented than a team of Satan
worshipping clowns doing tai chi."

"I hate clowns. And Satan. Horns just
don't match anything in my wardrobe," I said, out of my wits
(though I did have many wits to begin with).

"Don't worry. We got you a room at the
Obvious Hiding Spot Motel. He'll never find you there," Bummer
added.

I immediately turned to Hunky. "How
could I live without your all too pasty skin and expressionless
face for even one minute?"

But at least Hunky wasn't at a loss for
parting words. "I used to think life was as meaningless as trying
to find a truthful lawyer, or a moving company that wouldn't break
half your stuff. Now I realize the meaning of life is to get your
knob gobbled as much as possible. And I have you to thank for
that."

"You are a true pecker philosopher. Now
go kill this evil vampire so we can dry hump."

***

It turned out the Obvious Hiding Place
Motel wasn't the best place to keep me safe from a demented
dillweed looking to dig his fangs into me. But it did have free
internet, an ironing board, and unlimited danishes in the morning
(hooray for cheating on my diet). I was only in day two of my
seclusion when Mr. Demented called me saying he'd kidnapped my Mom
and would kill her if I didn't meet him at the local ballet studio
(oh plie's, if I had a dime for every time someone tried to kill me
in a ballet studio).