WEIRD SPECIMENS WHISPERING IN THE NIGHT

I spent the next day walking up and down Germantown Avenue. No more gray, cold rain. A beautiful fall day. Had some coffee, which was actually more like a hot, sweet milk shake. Bought a couple magazines. Sat in this nice litttle, cozy library they have and relaxed. My eye did itch a little, but not much. The trees are finally beginning to blush. Some go red. Some go orange. Some yellow. Some  brown. I like the way the dead ones curl up and crunch under my feet. They love being turned into mulch.

Papa felt sorry for me. Jonathon did too. But it was Sarah who slipped me the twenties. Bought some sneakers. Just a pair of retro Pumas. Don't have to be fancy. Worked on my screenplay while I was in the library. I do that sometimes. Not on the lap-top. I left that at home. Wrote down lots of ideas and a few scenes in a black and white, wide ruled, grade school composition book. Not technologically correct, but it's what I do. You want to know what the screenplay's about? It's about all this. It's about life. I change it all around. Jonathon is a Scot. Sarah's still the same. Baylah don't look like Beyonce in this one. We still got elves and cherubs, only they don't live with us. Papa never showed up. Only we got this cool guy, The Kahn. Ever see Keanu Reeves in that Buddah movie? Well, then you know what I mean.

They're having a meeting  tonight. All the vampires are getting together at the Mutter Museum. Now THAT is one interesting place. Close your eyes and picture an old tick-tock, wood floored, dim and shuttered mid-Victorian curiosity collection. Dust where there should be dust. Long, ebony framed, glass display cases. And some of the weirdest, most sickening specimens you've ever seen. If you want to visit, don't go before lunch. Go after. Look, I'm sure I told you about this place before, but we get a lot of first time readers around here, so we got to do a lot of back-tracking. You want to know which prized exhibit I like best? The 'two-headed, pickled, white baby.' No, really, they got a whole mess of them, each one labeled according to 'race.' But the white ones look like Ray Bradbury made them. One's got a big, sick, twisted ear-to-ear smile. And his connected at the hip brother's got two of his fingers jammed up his ass. Just a pair of bleached out, skinny, little bad boys, bobbing around in a big jar of pickle juice. What a way to spend the first part of eternity.

The night watchman is a friend of theirs. Not actually a familiar. They feel sorry for him. It's not that he's a half-wit. That would not be right. He's more like a quarter wit, but he does try hard. Got a prize winning Pez collection and everything. They give him money and chicken nuggets and all. He lets them duck inside for a pitstop on cold dark nights. It's where they go to talk. They could talk at home, but there's something about the atmosphere. Humans are rarely invited. I'm going because I was almost half blinded. But you know that from last night. The elves and cherubs don't take part in this stuff. Maybe Annie will. I don't know.

I showed that thin, little needle-like shard of glass to Jonathon. He held it up to the light bulb and looked at it real hard. Papa looked at it too. They made a lot of faces, but they didn't say nothing. Then Edith held out her hand. She wanted to see, so they gave it to her. Started sucking in a lot of air, but that's all she did. I asked them what they saw. I wanted to know what they thought. But Papa just told me to go to sleep.

Usually, I try to be all snug in bed by the time they come in. I don't know why. It just feels better that way. Maybe I don't want to see them after they've killed somebody. Yeah, they don't do it every night. But who knows. Only having a crystaline dart fly into your eye makes you see things. Sounds funny, but that's what it does. I've been around them more than a year. You think I know a lot? Bullshit. I don't know crap. Maybe tonight I'll get a few lessons.......

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THANK GOD FOR VAMPIRE CHILDREN

I'm still a little nervous about it. Well, maybe more than a little. Not in a million years did I ever think they'd come after me. I don't have any powers. I can't to anything major. I just organize this blog for them...... But something did come for me....And I don't know why. Maybe I was just a sign or a signal of what could happen. You know, like when the Nazis (when they were first getting noticed) would rip open the belly of a little dog as a preview to what the owner and his kids could expect next.

There's a small balcony opening off one of the upstairs bedrooms. Nobody uses it. Edith still sees that it's clean and dusted and all. A cozy space, actually. I'll go out there sometimes. Could be day. Could be night. I'll sit on one of the old painted, metal chairs (there's two of them) and look at the clouds, or maybe the stars. It's miserable here today, rainy, slushy snow, a bone chilling damp. A sad, little leak weeps its way through the roof and bounces into a rubber pail  out in the hallway. Luck one of the Red Paint guys saw it. We like this place. Hate to have anything happen to the hardwood floors, or to that nice, wool runner even.

Guess we'll need a roofer. The Red Paints aren't too sure of themselves when it commes to that. Any other 'family' would just call somebody. But we have to be careful. All the vampires (and that means Annie and the elves and cherubs too) have to sleep down in the sub-basement. No passing the day upstairs. I don't know. Edith thinks they have a 'familiar' for things like that. But she can't remember.

Sarah and Jonathon were already out when it happened. He's off his praying jag, at least for now. Still, I don't think he's going to kill anyone tonight. Probably just walk around the dark, wet streets. They enjoy that. The vampires, I mean. We got these really good, British made umbrellas. They take one of the big ones, huddle under it and go. No trim, little leather bootkins tonight. This is hiking boot weather. He's got these well made, oiled ones. Sarah's got these black, shiny rubber boots. Look like riding boots, only their rubber. They look so poetic with their scarves and all....like some big city couple in a movie you's see at Sundance.

I was out on the balcony and looked up to watch a plane. It's like a reflex with me. I always watch planes. It was dark. It was drizzling. Couldn't even see the plane, just hear it. Rain started getting in my eyes. But I had this water-proof hoodie thing on. AndI like weather like that. Sit out in the rain all the time. Why? If you wipe the water off the chair and put down a plastic trash bag it's all right. That's what I do. That's what I did.

But one of those silvery, little spears of liquid falling through the void wasn't water. It was glass. Pierced a hole right through my cornea (right through a lot of stuff actually) and into that aloe-vera like gel we got in the middle. The taller Red Paint guy heard me screaming and yelling. He ran out and carried me in. Those Paint People are strong, old dudes. I was kickin my legs and thrashing around trying to pull it out. He sat on me so I'd be still. Then he hollered for his brother to get one of the cherubs ( a couple of them were watching a DVD of  Dumbo in the family room). The old guy comes racing in, carrying one of the chubby, little dumplings. It sees what happened, squirms up out of his arms and flies over. Then it hovers over my face (I could not see. They told me after.) scrapes the inside of its cheek with its tiny, rough-tipped tongue and lets a drop or two of  magic-baby-vampire blood plop right in my eye. How could anybody want to kill the cherubs? I could hear it gurgling in sympathy. And one heartbeat later the pain was all gone. Red Paint guy comes over, leans in and carefully pulls the crystaline needle right out. Cherub gives me another bloody eye-kiss for good measure, backs away and smiles. You know how cute chubby babies look when they smile, especially all wrapped up snug in one of those soft, knit outfits Edith keeps them in. I could see that. He was wearing a green one, with matching booties. I smiles back. We both started laughing.

Got to start paying more attention to the cherubs. Edith and the elves look after them all right. But I want to start paying attention to them too. I did go back down to the family room with him. I did watch the rest of Dumbo with them. We laughed when they made him up like a clown. We clapped when he flew. (the cherubs wish everybody could fly) We cried when his mama got locked up in circus jail. It was nice. Then we played with this little, plastic whack-a-mole game they have. Gave them each a few whiffs of their favorite aroma candle (chocolate) and tucked them in. Not for the day. This is just like a nap time. I like to watch them doze off. Winkin, Blinkin and Nod...plus a fourth one too. Sleep well, little pudgies.

Now I'm sitting in the kitchen tapping this out. Didn't think I'd be able to, but I guess spending time with the little ones calmed me down. Still, I do jump everytime the heater makes a noise, or when Edith shuffles her cards. Saved the glass shard. I want to show it to Jonathon. I want to see what he thinks............

Please escuse any typing or spelling errors. Even though I am OK, deep inside I'm still a little shaken up.

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COME ON --- , DID YOU THINK HE WAS GONNA GIVE UP THE QUEST?-----JONATHON RECONSIDERS HIS PURPOSE

Jonathon retreated into silence, as he often did at these times. He sat in the chapel and prayed. Papa watched from the door. He wanted to comfort him, but he felt guuilty too. Why had he converted the injured, young man? Could he have saved him? Would a small draught of blood have been enough? How many times has he walked this way? When he languished in the rock-lined pit far beneath the Trinitarian Capital and fed on their pathetic captives he cried. How many times had he considered ending it all? A quick 'sublimation' into the sixteen foot thick granite walls. Solidification while still within the living rock. How liberating it would have been to feel each fluid-filled cell in his body crushed and distroyed. But he did not do this thing. Even an old one knows fear. And he laid there, in darkness and suffered. His captives, not a true faction of their creed, but an unofficial band of covert alchemists, sought knowledge. They craved power. And what better place to steal it then from the enchanted blood of the vampire? How misunderstood they were. How exploited and tortured.

Ranking warlords knew the truth. Each vied for his own captive 'life-eater.' Potentates bought and sold them like glittering baubles. Granted, some of the strong ones did manage to break free and exact a terrible revenge. But most were young. Many were weak. And escape but a dream. Yes, Jonathon sometimes did murderous things. So did Sarah. So did Luna, Annie and all the rest. But their sins were as snow compared to the transgressions of their tormentors. Jonathon would have said - A transgression is a transgression. Each one a crack in the in the oak of Jacob's Ladder....... That's why he worked so hard to mend them.

Papa thinks he'll go back to Jerusalem eventually. He'll make some kind of a gesture....a grand pronouncement. Maybe other local life-eaters will join him? They'll have to be brave. Satan creeps through many  windows. Countless ears attend him. What can some vampires do? Yet in his quiet times, when he lays upon his cot, he can see them. His soul flies free and he is there, watching from the shadows of Jerusalem, as Lailah and her mentor Jean-Michel try to do their best. Renate is there. Granted, she does not do much, but her deep abiding strength helps all.

The three musicians sing their songs, heard only by 'the choir.' Those occupying distant seats hear other hymns..... Well, maybe 'hymn' is not the proper word. Yet progress is made. A tentative reconcilliation grows. Perhaps these things need time? Some bulbs can't be forced.

Let him pray. Papa will not disturb him. He'll get dressed, go out into the city and confront the boney ghoul. Sarah means to accompany him. She prepares herself. He hears her. Johnny-Jump-Up....The Bone Cracker....The Flesh Ripper. What brought him back? Who quickened that vile corpse? How can they destroy him? Baylah's tried many times in the past. So did Bob. (remember him?- a simple minded, good hearted vampire, who actually allowed himself to be put on You Tube, the dumb son of a bitch). Johnny-Jump-Up, how will they fight him? He 'POPS" out of existence, traveling to God knows where, whenever they come near.  And will his 'death,' if they should accomplish such a thing, mean that much? ........ The wind is but a symphony of sighs - That's what Jonathon would say. Little things mean a lot. Tiny scales a dragon makes. So they would go and seek him out. Could he kill them? Baylah always survived.

Vampire life is a funny thing. These volitile beings do so much. Some good. Some bad. And they feel it all. Maybe child vampires, like Annie are luckiest. All she wants are toes...................

Shhhhhhh, the young Andalician is still at his devotions.........Hear him?........Listen, he recites the Amidah, the personal conversation between each believing soul and God. .......He whispers - THOU, O LORD ART MIGHTY FOREVER.  THOU CALLEST THE DEAD TO IMMORTAL LIFE, FOR THOU ART MIGHTY IN DELIVERANCE....

What a curiousity he must seem. Jonathon, the believing vampire...... Yet what can I tell you?

Faith never dies.........

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'BLACKIE' DOES A GOOD DEED... AN OLD ZOMBIE-GHOUL WAKES UP

Yeah, I know. It's been a while. Since the middle of the summer to be exact. But to me, that's like maybe fortyfive minutes ago. COME ON! Don't be an ee-jit! It's me, Blackie, the trim, little vampirino of The Main Line. Vampirino...I guess you're used to that word. You spend enough time with that sorta Spanish fellah, don't ya? What? You want me to tell you where I come from? Keep dreamin, sunshine. Sure, I retain a bit o' the East End in me voice, but what's 'at prove? Coulda picked that up any time. That's all. 'Sides, the 'tender cuts' likes it. Gives me a l'il distinction.

Right now we are sittin' on a nice bench on a picture book winding lane snakin' it's merry way through some girls' school. Posh, little college, I think it is. They likes me in these parts. Lets me up in the dormitories  for a friendly 'how-de-do' anytime. Yep, Blackie's a legend 'round here. Oh, they know I'm not a ghost. Nothing like Moaning Mertyl. Though I does show up in the shower room on occassion. Good back scrubber, I am. Gives a spankin' fresh wash-out, I does. Then kisses 'em in all the right nooks and crannies when it's over. Well... just before it's over.

How does an honest, nice to touch and look at, vampire boy like me make his living? Don't  worry. I gets a wee hot dram every once in a while. Little nip on the cheek... all four of 'em. They giggle. They swoon. They pass me on to their friends. It's like a ceremony 'round here. Been goin' on since the fifties. The 'Black Harem, they calls themselves. We light candles, make promises, spank a mess a quivverin', little, naked bums. The spankin' part is my job. I give a good lickin', I does.

Sure I require a proper meal every once in a while. That's what undocumented kitchen help are for. And not just kitchen help, not sinnce the Celtic Tiger lost a few stripes anyway. Oh, don't give me the 'hard eyed' up and down like that. I only takes the nasty sort. Just 'cause folks are grubbin' 'round for a little silver don't make 'em all saints or something. Keeps me firm and fit, it does. Come on, you likes the way I looks. Elvis-haired, blue-eyed, wicked angel-boy. This much I will share. Them that 'made' me did it in the summer. Got me with a tan... all over, burnt caramel smooth. Sure, I likes talkin' 'bout me self. We vampires are a very vain race. Ain't yer 'Jonathon' the same way? And stake her a few score years. Sarah's gonna cook up that way too.

But this ain't why I called you here. Wanna do a good deed, that's why. I know I don't prowl the city. Not my part of the forest. Not my huntin' ground . But I do sneak down to pick up a few things every now and then. Jonathon fancies his sleek, fine trousers and those leather bootkins. I likes me snug, little, white, cotton boxers and Turkish soap, I does. Can't always find it in these parts. So I takes me chances and trespass into foreign territory. Sublimates through the walls of certain worthy establishments and indulges in a bit a midnight shopping. That's when I seen 'im. Johnny-Jump-Up, I mean. The cadaverously thin, bleached white, lank-haired ghoul. No, no, no! He ain't no vampire. Should only be so lucky. That bloke was buried alive. That's what made him that way. 'Spose a spot a magic helped too. But don't mess with that much, so can't say.  But he had his cold, boney hand on the back of some poor girls neck. Saw it through the shop window. Did he know I was there? Who cares? What difference does it make? That don't mean nothing to him......

But the girl looked scared. Don't know why she didn't scream. Runnin' wouldn't do much good. Hell, that shitty demon can jump up to a third or fourth floor window. Bounces 'round like a dead maniac, he does. 'Johnny-Jump-Up,' that's how he got his name. Been wearin' the same, tight, dusty black suit for a hundred and sixty years. Guess the dampness makes it  shrink up like that. God only knows where he hides.

The next day cops found her body...what was left of it. Most was all chewed up. The flesh, I mean. No face left. Little bit a mmeat on her hands and feet, but that was it. Some hair on her skull maybe. Family identified the clothes. That and the dental work. Told 'em to keep quiet. Don't want no panic. City Hall knows about him, they does. Press knows too. But what are they gonna say? So the families get like maybe a quarter million dollars hush money and Center City night spots go on as usual. Looks like he's on a tear, too. So keep an eye peeled.

And remember who told you................ Happy Halloween...........

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LIKE A VAMPIRE VERSION OF THE CASH CAB...BUT WITH MUCH BETTER PRIZES

Jonathon and Sarah are real quiet now. He feels like he did wrong. She does too. He sits in this little chapel they got, praying and praying. It's crazy the things they do. How they can brutally tear apart people and then on the way back home, have the driver stop so they can pick up the cinnamon raisin bagels Edith likes at this little bakery. It was so early, they got 'em fresh, while they were still hot.  She saw 'em on the counter in the kitchen when she got up. Ate two of 'em toasted with cream cheese. She knows she's supposed to cut down (yes, she does check in with some kind of a G.P. from time to time), but as long as the vampires slip her a few drops of their special 'Whammo' blood when she needs it, what does she care? If the Red Paints hadn't snuck in when they did she might have finished off three of them.

I saw our two psycho killers before they went out. No killing tonight. This is gonna be just one a them 'walkin' around' evenings. He stuffed his pockets with some loot from the sub-basement vault...pieces of gold jewelry....some premium watches......the deed to a condo in Haddonfield, New Jersey. Don't ask. They got lots a stuff. And this is nothing new. He does it whenever he gets like this. Tries  to buy absolution for doin' nasty.  The girl, Sarah, follows his lead. She got a few diamond solitaires to distribute too.

But here's the good part a bein' a disembodied spirit. I can float out after 'em. Makes it easy for me to keep you all filled in. Right now, we are sashayin' down Locust Street in Center City. Not too many people around. This is just a week night. after all. He see's some young guy. You know the type - not quite homeless, but teeterin'.  Walkin' round with his hands shoved into his jeans pockets, tryin' to keep warm. Jonathon calls to him. He says - Yo, dude (our boy speaks the vernacular), think you can use this? -----Then he flashes some thick, heavy diamond watch. Rolex, I think it is....... The skinny young guy comes over. He looks at it. Doesn't touch it... just looks. Jonathon smiles. Sarah takes his arm. She smiles too.....The skinny guy says - Why? What do you mean?.............We don't mean anything. - says Sarah. You ever see that 'Cash Cab' TV show?.....Y-yeah? - answers the guy..........Well, this is just like that, only you don't have to get in no cab and you don't have to answer no questions..............Jonathon gives the watch a little wave and ads - Worth at least twenty thousand dollars. Even if you just let it go for the gold they should give you five...thousand, I mean.............Why you doing this to me? - whispers the guy............ He wants it real bad, but he's still a little scared.........Look, he's startin' to chew on his lip and everything............... Sarah says - Let's just say you're our good deed for the day........... Jonathon gives the watch a little shake, turns his head to the side and starts whistling........ The skinny guy reaches out his hand and takes it. But before he can manage to croak out a nervous 'thank you,' our night-crawlers turn and flash down that damp, narrow street like two 'Roadrunners' or something...... Guy stands there all slack-jawed a second or two, then turns and does the same thing. Only not so fast and nowhere near as smooth.

The two vampires do the same thing all over town. A char-woman coming off shift goes home with seventy five thousand dollars worth of 'Robin's Blood' rubies. Some pathetic wino wakes up to find his pockets stuffed with ten, little one ounce ingots  of solid gold. Old lady leaving an emergency room all by herself gets the deed to the condo in Jersey (with instructions to visit a 'familiar' lawyer in his office, just to finalize the deal). Some asked if they were crazy. Jonathon said- Yes.......And that seemed to explain it all. No more questions. Case closed. In all fairness, the char-woman did offer to reciprocate via some fast 'standin' up' sex. And she was a bit dissappointed when they turned her down. But two additional vouchers good for eight tickets to some ice show seemed to restore a little bit of her selfesteem.

They ended the night in Little Pete's on Seventeenth Street. Is it still called LittlePete's? I can't remember. But you know, that cozy, little coffee shop/diner they got near the Warwick? Ordered two 'decaf' coffees. Like it's gonna make a difference. Jonathon slips the Mexican kid two twenties, asks for a couple traveling cups and they leave. He feels better...just a little...She does too...... And a few minutes later (after a discreet cell phone call), their favorite cab driver picks 'em up in front of Boyd's for the comfy ride home.....

Johnny-Jump-Up saw it all from his hidey-hole amongst the garbage in a nearby dumpster. And when they left, he scrabbled out to warm himself in a moist, hot cloud a steam hissing up through an old corroded grate, from boilers far below.........

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FOREVER YOUNG......SAD THING IS VAMPIRES NEVER FORGET

The two well fed vampires walked down through the mostly empty parking garage. Neither said a word. Jonathon palmed the bald guy's watch. It's a Breitling. Costs maybe twenty thousand dollars. The wife's ear studs were real too. Weigh like a carat each. Sell for like ten, twelve thousand dollars. The guy had cash too, fifteen hundred , but it was something. So now  you know how vampires accummulate so much wealth over the centuries. It's unbelievable what they got.

The Puerto Rican kid in the little booth didn't even pick his head up when they went by. He knows the drill. He gets paid. They pay off kids in garages all over town. These two like to hunt in garages. No reason. Just their pattern. Jonathon took Sarah's hand. They squared back their shoulders and set off for a tiny, jewel-box apartment. Clothes looked all funny. But who gonna stop 'em? They use that place as a pit stop. The girl living there is another familiar. She gets a call (from Jonathon's cell phone), goes down to the little well set up lobby and buzzes them in. They got a few  buildings like this around town. Not everybody wants a doorman. Some people need their privacy. Who has to know their business?

Let's see. I'd guess this piece a baggage for about forty seven or fifty years old. What, you're upset 'cause I called her a girl? Just being polite. She gets her hair styled. She stays thin. Does throat and jaw exercises. Wears the right make-up. Keeps her teeth all nice and clean. You'd be surprised how many people do not do that. So what am I supposed to call her? When she gets  fixed up with toupee-wearin', pinkie ringed, old daddies, they say - I got a nice girl for you. Don't nobody say no 'woman.' Callin' some single ladies a woman like callin' her a 'man' or something. You know what I mean?

So they go upstairs. She lives on the third floor. One room is all set up with extra clothes and all. Nice place too. The ruined stuff gets wadded up and burnt in the fireplace. Yeah, it's a pre-War building. Why? Then they shower off in a glass enclosed, designer tiled, big-enough-for-two stall. Ever stay in a fine hotel? You know what it's like. Little bit later they sit in the living room. Maybe sip a few drops a absinthe, if they feel like. He gives the forty seven year or fifty year old a few different kind a drops if he wants to. Sarah thumbs through a couple lady stuff magazines. The girl calls their regular cab driver (also a familiar). Jonathon leaves her all the bald guy's cash. And they go home. ........ But nobody says anything on the ride back. They just sit real quiet and think.

He imagines what the kids'll feel. Maybe they had some old parents. Maybe some nice lady sitting in a bed, locked away in some pissed up nursing home. She cherishes each and every visit. Who's gonna run to see her now? Who's gonna bring her small orders of rigatoni and meat balls ?(can't eat no big order) It's sad. When vampires get all hepped up, they do not think about those things. Yes, they DO kill evil people sometimes. They DO (on occasion) 'cull' people sent to them in visions. You remember hearing all that stuff. That's what they want you to think. Especially Jonathon. It's like a weakness with him. Whoops. Have I been calling him 'Jonathon'? Sigh...... Oh......Why am I doing this?........Look, when he feels real guilty. When things don't go right.  When they got little kids. Or they had really good hearts. Or maybe just did not deserve it, he gets that way. Pretends he is really somebody else. It's the guilt. That boy is still a major believer. Shit, faith never dies. Not real faith anyway. Edith and the others back at the house know how he is. They call him 'Jonathon' when he's all right and 'nuthin' when he's not. Maybe that wilkravitz don't know yet. He's only been there about a year. But the elves know. Even the cherubs feel something. Sarah's new too. but she's starting to understand. Hell, if I had to bet, I'd say she don't want a be called 'Sarah' right now either.

Nobody talks to them. Everybody keeps away. They can read it on their faces. They know. He takes her down to the special, little built-in sleeping cabinets they got tucked into the basement. Don't even stop to mess with the slave girls or nothing. I can't tell you how they reconcile that 'slave girl' business.. Who knows what a vampire sees? But sometimes I catch him lookin' at his hands, or payin' close attention to his jaw line in a mirror. So young. He looks so young. They all do. You hardly ever see an old one. And he starts thinkin' things. That I can sorta feel. Pictures his flesh and you should pardon the expression 'blood' family. Hell, they ain't even little chips a bone by now. That's what he thinks. That's what they all think. A few get numb to it. One's like Papa and Renate, I mean. But even numbness gives way to a little 'pins and needle' tingle every now and then.........I am telling you, vampires are some major complicated shit.

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WANNA SEE WHAT VAMPIRES REALLY ARE? HOW YOU LIKE BEIN' SLIPPERY WET WIFF BLOOD?

Remember Jonathon and Sarah up above the grand, ornate ceiling of the Academy of Music, peering down at their tentative 'dinners' through the intricate, gilt, filagreed scroll-work surrounding the magnificent, over-sized, crystal chandelier? Well, we're back there. That's where we are now. Who am I? Who's narrating this? You know me. I'm Mister Never You Mind. Some a them other  disembodied spirits don't like to get involved with the bloody stuff. Reminds them of their own 'final curtains,' if you get my drift. But I don't care. Shit, they burnt me up. And that didn't make me crazy... just dead. Still, let me tell you, it rips you up something fierce, 'specially when that fire decides it wants to go see what's doin' down your throat and in your malf. Do you understand how sensative the insides of your lips and tongue are? Can you imagine what a corn-dog goes through when they lower it into the one thousand degree oil? Damn, them pig assholes is probably happy they already dead at that point. To bad my scrotum warn't dead when they lit me up. Pain? Torture? Regular pain and torture would a been a treat. Ever touch a hot clothes iron by mistake, or like because you craved a little hot tickle or something? Multiply that by zippity-million. My finger nails and toe nails melted right off my body. And even though my seared lungs couldn't work no more, that didn't mean my heart stopped. That don't mean I blacked out. No siree. Takes two or three minutes for that to happen. I can make people I hate dream what I went through when I really want to. What happens  to 'em? They die, mostly, from a stroke or a heart attack. Ax me some other night. I'll tell you who they were. But we gotta get back up there in that fancy ceiling..........

The fat lady sang, only the show warn't over yet. Not till a bunch a big bellied white guys all dressed up like the Burger King, jabbed each other in the gut wit deez retractable, fake Halloween swords and shit. Then it was over. I guess over in Europe, fat white guys wiff devil-looking, painted-on goatees yodel a lot before they die. Who knows? What do I know?

Jonathon motions down toward the bald guy sitting toward the front. Sarah nods her head. He got a juicy wife too, so there gonna be enuff for both a them. Then they wait a few minutes for all the people to squeeze they wide loads outta there. You know how the people sittin' up the front wind up havin' to wait for all the other God damn shits to wake up and shuffle out 'fore they can leave? Well, that's just  how it is. The two vampires shimmy back outta that crawl space and run down the stairs. They can weave in and out a slow, crippled up white people real fast. You know, vampires got that ability. Like some crazy-leg football player. Like dancers, skippin' here and skippin' there. Didn't even knock anybody over too, or smash into any trussed-up tittie. Boom! Twenty seconds later they was at the bottom (eight full levels down), standin' there behind the orchestra seats, just as they supper goes by. The vampires fall in behind  and follow 'em out onto the street. And it's a madhouse out there. People fighting for taxi-cabs, yellin' at them valet kids they got. Some race across the street so they can likker themselves up in a hotel bar, or maybe shove a big piece a cheese cake and a cup a coffee down they throat.Everybody know eatin' and drinkin' after a show the best part.

Only the bald  guy and his missus don't head for any a those places. They clip-clop (you know how rich people shoes sound on cement?) 'round the corner onto Sansom Street. Are  you by any chance familiar with Diagon Alley in them Harry Potter books? Well, this is it. Little below street level taverns, book shops, fortune tellers, mystery places. Oh, they got some nice establishments too. Only we're talkin' 'bout late on a Saturday night. And how many people you think wanna eat fresh oysters (good ones too) at six minutes after midnight? So they come to some grimy, damp, multi-level parking garage. He cheap. that bald guy cheap. Wife hardly talks to him. She knows. Got her rings all turned around so the diamonds don't face the outside. Heh, heh, heh, they just what they call...cubic zirconiums? But she don't know that. Only one sleepy, Porta-Reeka kid on duty, but they don't gotta pay him till they come back down. So he push a real loose metal button, hangin' off a oilly aluminum plate. They wait a couple minute till the rickety elevator with the paid-off-under-the-table inspection sticker comes down. She sighs and gets in. He gets in and jabs his pudgy finger at level six. Doors squeak close and the depart.

Now there is a reason why so many movies and TV shows have these big scenes in deserted parking garages. They like waitin' rooms for hell. All grease stained. Little bitty weak, yellow lights. Damp, wet cinder-block walls, wide rectangular pillars. If you look real fast, you  can even see a few champion size, crunchy water bugs runnin' 'round.  Only three or four cars left up there, two big , old SUV's (I think some Chinese joint uses them for catering or somethin' , a seven year old silver Jaguar (the cheap version) and theirs. Don't need no key to open the door, 'cause he got this little oblong pea-pod wit buttons on it. I tink his chariot called a Nissan Maxima. Me, I like Packards myself. Wife give him a dirty look (she standin' on the other side, waitin' for him to click her in). He chokes on a little bit a neck-snot (you know how it can get ya?) and drops his little pea-pod . But before he can crack his joints and squat down to get it, Jonathon steps out from behind a pillar (never park next to them pillars) and crunches it into the dirty asphalt wiff one a his trim, neat, well shod feet. Bald guy looks all surprized. Not shocked yet. It's too fast for that. The wife sees whats happening an starts runnin'.  Sarah leaps down from somewhere up above and flattens her. Woman starts shakin', tries to screw off all the fake rings and give 'em to her. Sarah just grins, as she shoves 'em into the bitches malf and jams it shut. The woman cries and trembles, as a runny, little stream a blood comes outta her lips. Sarah just leans in close and kisses her. Licks up most a the blood too. The husband starts yellin'. Jonathon cold cocks him square in the face. Smashes his nose. Blood all over the place. Man in shock. Vampire moves in real fast and bites it off. The nose, I mean. Then he balls up boaf his fists and pounds the guy  right on boaf his ears. You would have to see it to believe it, but one eyeball actually flew out the socket, hangin' down there on his quivverin' cheek like somethin' outta Mad Magazine. Guy falls down on his knees. Ever hear knee-caps crunch? Won't forget that sound. But that bastid never heard it, cause his wind pipe ripped out 'fore his pants touch the ground. Jonathon all manic by then, like a pit bull tearin' 'part a Chihuahua. Sarah havin' fun wif the wife too, rippin' off ears. Hell, that vampire gal sank her teeth into one a the cheeks and tore the whole think off. You know the noise when they rip open a big, thick, corregated cardboard box? Thats what is sounded like. Made her look just like a Zombie. Not Sarah, the other one.  Took 'em boaf about seventy two heartbeats to suck up all the blood. I never seed vampires gnaw marrow out dah backbone, but I seed it then. That was some show, better than the opera, lemme tell yuh.

Tink they killed some other couple too. But that was just like a quick dessert. They were mostly bored and stuffed by then.

I know they gonna be sorry you all know 'bout this, but what the hell do I care? Can't disembody my spirit outta me no second time.

They gonna feel guilty though.........But them hoomins back at the house gonna have to deal wiff that......
O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O

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