Fifty Shades Of Sparkling Vampires With Dragon Tattoos That Play Starvation Games (4 page)

"I don't even understand why you care
anyway. You don't even love me."

"You bought that lie? You must be a
bigger bone head than I ever realized. But you're my favorite
dumbass in all the world. I love you more than my own existential
ennui. More than pouting uncontrollably. More than making an army
of demented balloon animals bent on world domination."

"That's probably the sweetest thing
I've ever heard. Let's bump nasties," I said.

But before we had time to so much as
kiss, the Vulture leader went totally ape.

"A human and a vampire together? I
would rather eat monkey poo than allow such an abomination. Hunky,
you know the rules. Humans must not know about our existence...or
our addiction to paper mache. She either dies, or must become one
of us...oh, and for God's sake, pull up your pants. You're sporting
more wood than a frat guy at a wet t-shirt contest."

***

The O'Buzzkill's moved back to Spork
with a heady decision on their plate--eat me, or let me join their
paper mache ranks. With the prospect of Hunky whining like a little
bitch if they killed me, the O'Buzzkill's voted to turn me into a
vampire (yay, I got to be a soulless bloodsucker too).

But all was not hunky dory. The
vampires and werewolves had a combustible truce (how did both
vampires and werewolves slip under the radar in a town of only 4000
people by the way?). The pact would be broken if the O'Buzzkill's
ever turned a human. In other words, things were about to get
epically bitey all because of me. But did I care that I caused an
all out war? Nah. After all, I had my brooding buddy back.
Swoon!

The End.

Stop This Love Triangle, I'm Getting
Off

Why couldn't psychotic vampires just
let me make out in peace? Instead they had to go form an army of
undead grump-a-lumps to take out my pouty ass. So not cool. And I
was working on a seriously stylish hickey too.

While Psycho Von Wantsmedead started
biting up a storm in Seattle to build up her fang base, I snuck in
a couple of weeks of serious face sucking. And even though I was
perfectly happy getting lost in Hunky's eyes, the love of my life
wanted to waste perfectly good dry humping time talking about dumb
stuff like the future. The council of stuffy vampires with no sense
of humor declared that I must either be killed or turned super
fangy, but instead of just making with the sucky sucky, Hunky had a
bucket list for me before I went vamp.

God forbid I turned into a vampire
without first experiencing the wonder of getting explosive diarrhea
as a human one last time. There were of course other things Hunky
wanted me to experience. The acknowledgement that a great many
people's lives had gone bye bye over my humdrum existence, the
philosophical ramifications of being immortally whiny, and of
course finally getting around to taking that underwater basket
weaving class.

Hunky also thought it would be pretty
neato if we got hitched. Then we could bump nasties the respectable
way. But did I really want to get married so young? What would the
other vampires think of me just giving my genital giblets away to
honeymoon horniness at the first sign of adulthood? Then again, it
wasn't everyday you ran into an impossibly hot 104 year old (and
bravo on living over a century without even developing even a hint
of a personality).

So the stage was set for the epic
shotgun marriage of the year (yippee for haphazard matrimony). But
unfortunately I had to go and get two dreamy hunks to fall in love
with me (my dateless friends just didn't understand how hard it was
having shirtless hot men fall all over themselves for you). My old
wolfie buddy took time away from sniffing other werewolves butts
long enough to declare his undying love for me. Now back in the
days when I had the worst perm in the history of hair gel, I used
to dream about hot guys fighting over me. But as someone who hated
math, love triangles sucked.

Still, I let Second Fiddle and his
shirtless hunkiness say his piece:

"The wolf in me wants to hump your leg
like a wanton jackhammer," Second Fiddle said. "But the six packed
hunk in me wants to love the shit out of you--even when you get so
old that you're pooping in your adult diapers and can't remember
where you left your dentures."

"Wow. That's a creepy amount of love."
But instead of being put off, I was totally giddy. "A girl can
never have enough over the top grandstanding."

"Does that mean you'll run off with me
into a field of daisies where we can giggle at each others
stupidity and take each others reproductive organs for a
spin?"

"I'm sorry, but you know my ovaries are
already reserved for Hunky McBrooding. Besides, I only run through
fields of pussy willows. Daisies? Sheesh, what kind of a hussy do
you take me for?"

"No no no. I respect every inch of your
exquisite deliciousness. And I worship the magnificent symphony of
your irrepressible being. Even your farts bring me unmitigated
glee. Not to mention that time you had pink eye--absolute rapture,"
Second Fiddle cooed.

"Second Fiddle, you could find a way to
make projectile vomiting sound sweet. Surely you could find a much
more chipper girl to want to stick your naughty bits
into."

"I don't want a nicer, smarter, hotter
girlfriend. I want you. Besides, I've been doing dong pushups just
for you."

"You have such convincing arguments.
It's going to be really hard to crush your soul beyond
recognition."

"Did I mention I'm friends with some
unicorns? I could probably introduce you if give my wang a
chance."

"I'm sorry. But as I mercilessly turn
your heart into mulch, just know that you never had a shot to begin
with. Now, off to my brooding bedfellow."

"Fine. Then you leave me no choice but
to convince you with my soft tender lips." Second Fiddle then gave
me a big time smoocheroo.

The kiss hijacked my body with giddy
bliss, then my brain went and got in the way (see, thinking really
was bad for you). What about my hunk at home? Could I really
picture spending the rest of my life with a wolf that enjoyed
sticking his head out the window on car rides? Besides, imagine how
hairy out kids would be.

I immediately put a stop to the
peckeroo in progress and gave Second Fiddle a look of righteous
anger for good measure before slugging his ruggedly handsome
face.

***

Hunky was none too happy about a sly
dog trying to put the moves on my tonsils. I acted offended too,
but really my taste buds were intrigued. So while Hunky furiously
told Second Fiddle off, my head took a field trip to the magical of
"what if?" Things only got more complicated when Second Fiddle
profusely apologized, leaving me with a lot of thinking to do
(gosh, using my brain was a real bummer).

Unfortunately my good for nothing
noggin hadn't decided which impossibly hunky guy to lust after for
eternity by the time vampire civil war came to Spork (yay, more
people trying to kill me). And amazingly enough, it wasn't all just
some big mistake. The entire paranormal world of vampires and
werewolves were about to duel to the death over my bone headed life
(apparently they didn't realize I was the plainest girl in the
history of ordinary).

So with Psycho and her newfangled army
of sparklies, I was sent off to hide with Hunky and Second Fiddle
while the local wolves and vampires scratched their heads trying to
figure out what was so special about me (surprise--absolutely
nothing). Meanwhile in the super secret hiding place that Psycho
would have no trouble finding later, I was in the middle of a hunk
hoagie. Unfortunately, my sausage sandwich was not nearly as
satisfying as I'd always fantasized. I guess that was what happened
when the two beefcakes you loved hated each others guts. With
disaster looming though, the two formed an unlikely
truce.

"Hey, so I hate your undead guts,"
Second Fiddle said to Hunky, as I pretended to sleep.

"Yeah. Well I think you're a shirtless
schmuck," Hunky fired back.

"Wow. This truce has gone completely
different than I envisioned. Maybe that's because you're a
pretentious twit."

"Oh shut up, you brawny bozo. Remember,
this truce is what's best for Nella. Namely, her still being alive
to twaddle my magic wand later."

"I always do what's best for Nella, you
brooding nincompoop. And I'm going to do everything to keep her
alive so she can feast on my hoo ha."

"Yeah. Well thanks for risking your
life even though you have no shot of ever getting into her pants,
turd-a-saurus rex."

"Don't worry. I won't her get a scratch
on her, douche magoosh."

"Ha. Maybe this truce won't be so bad
after all. Now rest up. It would be a shame if you bit the big one
tomorrow, numb nuts."

***

With the loves of my life able to
strike a half assed alliance, I was free to forget the battle at
hand and talk about important things like my upcoming
nuptials.

"Just so you know, I'm going to be
completely worthless during this fight," I said over breakfast.
"You'll probably have to save my ass a lot."

"What else is new?" Hunky responded.
"Good thing you're amazingly ordinary or I would have never fallen
in love with you."

"Just think of all the terrible new
ways I can risk our lives with once we're married."

"Your mind is a scary scary thing,"
Hunky said. "Now, back to our wedding. I was thinking we should
have an erotic balloon animal display right at the
entrance."

"Well, duh."

"Then maybe a corn maze leading up the
alter."

"Exactly. We should make people really
have to work to see us tie the knot. God, it's like we're speaking
the same twisted language."

"Yeah. The language of melodramatic
love."

"Wow. Immortality is going to be so
awesome."

"Now, let's spoon and make Second
Fiddle furiously jealous," Hunky said.

But Second Fiddle had been listening in
the whole time and wanted to kill himself like it was nobody's
business. As far as he was concerned, the friend zone could kiss
his ass. He thought maybe he'd be lucky enough to die in the heat
of battle and find an afterlife babe to bone.

I sensed Second Fiddle's inner turmoil
though (plus he had this really agonizingly constipated face) and
didn't want the poor schmuck to die. After all, I wasn't done cock
teasing him yet. So I pulled him close and told him to kiss me. He
went balls to the wall, planting a huge wet one on me. Yowza, not
making up my mind was actually pretty fun, and I had the kisses to
prove it. But with war looming, the smooching had to stop. One
thing was certain though, if Fiddle's fangs weren't ready to do
battle, his dong sure was.

***

Eventually even the most half assed of
plots had to get around to staging an unnecessary war. I couldn't
tell you much about that since I was an epic pipsqueak. Plus, the
whole dying thing seemed like a real bummer. So I just curled up in
the fetal position until someone came around and saved me like
always. Besides, a moody emo brat like me couldn't be expected to
fight. Then the repercussions of sending the undead world into all
out war might actually cross my mind. I couldn't waste time with
that. I had a seating chart for my shotgun wedding to lay
out.

Eventually after a whole mess of icky
bloodshed, Psycho found my hiding place (see, I even sucked at hide
and seek). But, after some menacing threats and diabolically bad
one liners, my pasty prince took that wack jobs ass out. As much as
I wanted to discuss with Hunky my choice for Goth wedding dj's
though, I had a panting werewolf waiting in the wings.

"Hey Second Fiddle. I'm sorry you got
seriously injured fighting for my love, but I'm going to have to
break your heart now," I said, to the wounded Wolf.

"Wow. I never saw this coming.
Otherwise I wouldn't have turned down that invitation to go to the
Shirtless Six Packed Singles Cruise," Wolf.

"Look. There will be other plain
looking dimwits out there for you to date. Throw a rock in a mall
and you'll probably hit ten of them."

"But you're the most beautiful plain
looking dimwit ever."

"Wow. That was probably the most
idiotic sentence I've ever heard. Gosh, we really could have made a
great dumbass couple."

"We still can. You should start a war
with the leprechauns next. I'd be happy to save your temperamental
tushy from those drunk buggers."

"Second Fiddle, I have an undead
wedding to plan. Do you have any idea how many blood banks I have
to raid just to just to get a toast going?"

"But Nella, you let me put my tongue
down your throat. Doesn't that mean anything anymore?"

I shook my head in disbelief. "You poor
naive schmuck. At least you have your six pack to fall back
on."

"Fine. I guess I'll have to respect
your moronic decision and let you moon for eternity with Professor
McBrood over there. But damn, this sucks worse than when my
chinchilla went to the big haystack in the sky."