Saturday, July 21, 2012

A VAMPIRE KILLING ON THE WAY BACK TO THE ANTI-ENCHANTMENT-BUREAU

They never saw Johnny-Jump-Up. Papa felt some tingles. Knew he was down by the river, but not all ghouls are easy to home in on. Zombie hunts give vampires fits. They're not good with all the 'noxious' types, even noxious vampires. The ones we deal with are very cultivated and refined. Call themselves 'noble.' Not necessarily like Downton abbey noble. More like them inert gases they got on the periodic table, though some do tend to be a little gentrified. 


They driver took 'em all back to the Bureau. Stopped to pick up Luna too. The other vampires said she stunk from fake maple syrup. Annie said it reminded her of decomposing bodies. You know, when they get all gooey and all? Tomas said - Don't be rude..... So she shut up, but made fart noises with her mouth. They just ignored her. 


Then Conrad all of a sudden goes berserk. Starts yellin' - Stop the car! Stop the car! I gotta get out! I gotta get out! I gotta kill somebody! I gotta KILL SOMEBODY!!!........... Sarah said - How do you know?............... But he was foamin' at the mouth by then and his eyes were rollin' back in his head. Tomas said he must a had a 'vision.' It can get real visceral like that, especially in a new-born. So the driver slammed on the brakes.


Conrad bolts from the limo and goes skipping, or limping, or galloping down the street, 'cause like his leg was asleep. That can happen to vampires too, you know. And you gotta expect it when they're packed into a car real tight like that. Annie wants a go with him, but Tomas holds her back. He says - No, let him face it on his own. 


So he runs down Broad Street and swerves into Lombard or Pine or some place like that. Driver says - Should I wait?.......... None of the vampires answer, til finally Doctor Franklin exhales and says - No, take us home..... He never liked Conrad, anyway. 


Now for two days and two nights, our former, almost-monk been havin' visions of a real bad, old man what lives up on the forth floor of a little, red brick apartment building. So his instincts take over and he FINDS the place. Even 'sees' the number, four-fifteen. Any other vampire would a just levitated up and sublimated through the window. Windows is easier than walls. Them rattly, old wood windows best of all.  But Conrad don't know that. He like what you might call a real dope. So he go in the little lobby, lookin' for somebody to help him. There was a doorman, but he settin' on a old, mohair love seat watchin' reruns a Million Dollar Listing, L.A. on some cheap, nineteen inch flat screen they got on a little table. He waitin' for Josh (Altman) a punch Madison real hard. That what he want. So Conrad's intrusion got him all disgusted. He say - Yes? What can I do for you, you crazy, lookin', son-of-a-bitch?............ Conrad say - Lemme into 415! You gotta lemme into 415! An' all the while he jumpin' from foot to foot like he gotta take a piss......... Doorman say - Yeah? Well, go to hell, you God-damn bastid, 'cause I ain't gonna do it!......... He know everybody what live there. And he know alls they mush up wit'. An' he doan know Conrad. So Conrad (by now all panicky) starts yellin' - Oh, God! Oh, God!......... And he grabs the guys head and twists it all the way 'round, til it POP off, jus' like a clown in a metal crank box, 'cept without no Pop Go the Weasel.......... Old drunk dozin' in a corner go - Shit, now you gonna have to go clean up that mess....... But Conrad don't answer him. He take a whole mess a keys off the headless Doorman's body. (they was in his pocket) Drunk say - You doan need no keys. It push button...... Then he get hisself up and stumble over. Nine seconds later Conrad goin' up in a 'monia smellin', old elevator. 'Fore the door close he go - Thank you..... and tip the guy five bucks.


Now Annie his 'mama.' She feel somethin'. She hear somethin'. So she start laughin' and laughin' and laughin' til Luna haul off and smack her in the face.....


Old bastid in 415 doan know what comin'. He layin' in bed, listening to George Noury talk 'bout aliens and ghostises and folks what got theyselves spontaneous combusted. He like that radio program. Hate all the commercials, but he like it anyway.


An' now he gonna learn 'bout all that paranormal crap first hand.......


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