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Contest contest: write a story! the third! (7 BP)

zigzagoon

Avatar: 28782 2011-07-31 12:19:07 -0400
5

Level 20 Permanoob

“Asshat”

this is like my other contests, you know the deal

your task this time is to write a story about effeminate, ambiguously gay vampires!

thanks to king krimson for the idea, i sent you a brownie! Log in to see images!

rules:

1. you may interpret the theme however you wish!

2. the story can be any length but try to keep it reasonable and not too short/long

3. copypasta is not allowed; you must be the author of the story and you must not have posted it somewhere else on the internet already

4. the best writer will be awarded 7 BP. i am a bit low on brownies so i probably wont be able to add more prizes for 2nd 3rd etc sorry about that!

5. contest lasts for three days, starting now, after that the winner will be decided with a poll

understood? go! Log in to see images!

King Krimson

Avatar: King Krimson's Avatar
11

[Snobby McSnobbers-
ons
]

Level 69 Troll

A lot fo kewl boiz wer it ok!

Posting for place holder.

numbers13773-
45

Avatar: Schoolgirl Uniform
2

[70 Character Story-
tellers
]

Level 10 Camwhore

“Leave it to Cleavage”

Since you said we could interpret this in anyway we wanted I decided to take mine in a little different direction. Though not about traditional vampires, it definately is about creatures that would be clbumified in the realm of “vampiric.” So, here it is:

Desert Moonlight

Night had fallen on goatherd’s tiny ranch in the Altar desert of Sonora, Mexico. By the light of the full moon, one would have seen that a single goat had breached the dilapidated fence behind the house and wandered too far. One would have also been able to see that the goat was dead, and two otherworldly creatures were hunched over its body.

“I alwayth hate that part, Raoul,” said one of the creatures. His lisp would have been apparent, but Raoul had lived with him so long that he had stopped noticing the speech impediment.

“Yeah, It’s always tough coming back after hibernation, Pablo. It’s like, you hear that poor little goat go, ‘MAAAAAH,’ and you just can’t bring yourself to snap it’s cute little neck.”

“Can I have the firtht bite?” asked Pablo. Raoul hadn’t finished yet.

“I’m all like, ‘Sorry little goat! It’s just that this is nature and a Chupacabra has to eat, too,’ but I know that the goat can’t understand me so the poor little guy still thinks I’m some kind of cold-blooded murderer. And sure, I’m cold-blooded, but I’d never actually murder anyone, like, for no reason,” he paused, “Sure, you can have the first bite.”

Pablo sank his teeth into the goat’s neck and began draining its vital fluids. After a few minutes, Raoul gave Pablo a glare and started tapping his foot impatiently. Pablo looked up.

“Well jeethe, thorry mithter prithy-pantth, excuthe me for being hungry after a four-month hibernation!”

“Well! It’s not like I snuck out for snacks this winter! I’m just as famished as you are!” Raoul replied indignantly.

“You sure could’ve fooled me, mithter! You look like you’re training to be a thumo wrethler or thomething.” Raoul was taken aback.

“You KNOW I’m sensitive about my physique, Pablo. That’s not very fair.”

“Fine. Whatever. Jutht take your thtupid turn with the goat and let’th leave,” said Pablo. He turned his spiny back to Raoul and the goat. Nearly a minute into his meal, the two heard the door of the goatherd’s house creak open.

¿Quién está allí? ¡Estancia lejos de mis cabras!” the goatherd shouted. Pablo and Raoul then heard two deafening gunshots.

“Jethuth Chritht!” shouted Pablo. The two of them spread their bat-like wings and flew into the night, leaving the goatherd shouting curses at the night sky.

***

Raoul and Pablo had retreated to their cave in the foothills. Neither had said a word throughout the whole flight. After a few minutes of darkness and silence, Raoul spoke.

“Thanks for taking so long, Pablo,” he said, venom in his voice (Author’s note: Chupacabras do not produce actual venom), “If you weren’t as slow as an bum, I could’ve had a full meal.”

“Well maybe if you hadn’t made tho much freaking noithe, you wouldn’t have woke up that thtupid farmer!”

“Oh! So somehow this is all MY fault?” Raoul was nearly shouting. “I’m the one who killed the goat in the first place! I should have been the one to get first bite!” He made a disapproving [i]tch[/] sound with his mouth. “But no! I decided to be polite and let you go first. And what’s my reward? Half of a meal, and getting shot at, that’s what!” Raoul stopped. His eyes began to grow misty. “And you know what? That’s not even worst part. The worst is that you don’t appreciate anything I do for you!” His voice had grown back into a shout.

“Wow, I’m thorry Raoul,” Pablo said, genuinely apologetic, “I never realithed…”

“Just shut up, Pablo! ‘Thorry’ isn’t going to cut it this time. I’m going to bed now. It’s almost daytime.” Instead of retiring in his usual spot in the cave, near Pablo, Raoul moved as far away from him as he could before curling up in his sleeping position. “And don’t try to wake me up!”

That day, Pablo could not sleep. He and Raoul had had their spats before, but never like this. Neither one of them had ever went to bed angry. Pablo sensed that if he didn’t act now, the two of them would never make up. For hours, Pablo lay awake, brainstorming ways to make it up to Raoul.

I could volunteer to make the kill tomorrow night, he thought, but that idea was out. That would be his job anyway, according to their rotation. Maybe I could offer to make the kills for the next week, or let him take the first bite for the next month. Or maybe both? However, that option was out of the question as well. He knew that Raoul would be too stubborn to let him do that.

So, it was roughly around noon that day when Pablo determined that the only thing he could do would be to go out and get Raoul a new goat while he was asleep. That way Raoul would have to accept his apology. Unfortunately that meant going outside in broad daylight.

Pablo crawled out of the cave slowly, both to avoid waking Raoul, and to let his eyes adjust to the growing amounts of sunlight. Once was out in the midday sun, he spread his wings in preparation for flight, but just before takeoff he realized that he couldn’t fly during the daytime. He would be too visible that way, and he had a low profile to maintain. So, he trudged through the hot desert sands of Sonora for nearly an hour before he could see the old goatherd’s ranch.

Maybe this isn’t such a good idea… he thought. But there was no turning back now, and this was something he had to do for Raoul.

***

Raoul woke that night to find himself alone in the cave. Immediately he felt the bitter sting of regret.

Poor Pablo ran away from me! he thought, And who could blame him? I acted like a monster!

Raoul searched the entire foothill region, but Pablo was nowhere too be found. Every cave was empty, except for the local hombre lobo’s lair, but Lupé had no idea where Pablo was either.

Soon it became midnight, and Raoul was starving. He knew there was no way he could keep up the search if he had no energy, so he flew over to the ranch to grab a bite. He surveyed the herd in order to pick out a weak one, but something caught his eye.

At the side of the house, there was a dead goat half buried in the sand. At first he thought it was the goat he had killed last night, but when he looked closer he realized that it was much bigger and plumper than that one. He could smell that the corpse was still relatively fresh.

Can’t let it go to waste, he told himself. But when he got up close to the goat, he realized that it had not died a natural death. Its neck had been violently snapped. His heart began to race. Raoul fearfully tiptoed to the front of the house. Suddenly, everything became clear, and what he saw caused him to let out an otherworldly wail of despair.

Pablo was there on the porch, hanging upside-down by his legs. His previously vibrant, green skin had taken on a sickly pallor, and two of his beautiful multicolored spines had been broken off. Blood was dripping from three bullet wounds in his body: one in the leg, one in the stomach, and one in the neck, presumably the killing shot.

Raoul’s noise had awoken the rancher who burst out of the shanty with his rifle, prepared to kill the second beast. However, the creature was already dead without injury. The rancher would never realize it, but he had died of a broken heart.

numbers1377345 edited this message on 09/02/2008 10:59PM

I AM The SKA-
BOSS

Avatar: 42627 Wed Oct 15 19:08:31 -0400 2008
2

[70 Character Story-
tellers
]

Level 25 Troll

“Dick in a Box”

This one I thoroughly liked—and almost used my power word in it. Though I should’ve made the room mate a straight dude instead of a chick. XD

———————————————

The Story of a Stereotypical, Ambiguously Gay Vampire (As Told by Its Straight, Mortal Roommate)

My name is Kari, and Dana Welsh and I have been sharing an apartment for about two years now. We met through college and after we had graduated, we decided to share a place. Funny, I know, since we’re polar opposites. He was the brooding Goth, I was the nerdy artist.

I had always thought Dana was your typical Goth kid, wearing the old-fashioned clothes, listening to Voltaire, dabbling in the occult or magic, and wearing more makeup than a KISS Army member. Later I found out he was a vampire. Let me tell you, he’s not like a bajillion-**** years old as he claims to be. He didn’t turn until the spring break of our sophomore year, where we met up in South Jersey with some people he had met though some weird social network thing.

Anyway, I ended up playing House of the Dead 2 at an arcade for about an hour or and ended up heading back to our hotel while Dana, or Craven Magnus, or something like that, became part of their weird club. I spent the next day looking for him (and having a re-match at that blasted machine). It wasn’t until 3AM that next more, he returned to the hotel room, smelling of cloves, some strange cologne and possibly blood.

It was the probably the strangest spring break I’ve ever had.

Since he was creature of the night, he switched all of his morning clbumes, so I didn’t see him much other than here and there, but we were still good friends. We graduated and went out on our own, and thus taking us into the now.

Dana is, well, a vegan vampire, if that’s possible. He only drinks the blood of organically raised animals. As odd as that sounds, I was just grateful he wasn’t dragging in drifters and bums. He had also grown finicky over the certain preparations of his clothes (I usually do the laundry, despite his ****ings and his offers to help.) Other than that, I had no problem.

By now I had I started my own freelance designer job, so I worked whatever hours I wanted to, as well I had started dating a nice guy by the name of Gabe. Dana was jealous, I think, because one moment he was calling us ‘breeders’, then next he was trying to hang out with us, and flirting with Gabe and such. When I had called him out, he’d claim he wasn’t doing anything. After the shenanigans with Gabe, he was claiming to be going out with a woman named Lillith, whom I had never seen or heard from. That went on for a few weeks until Dana asks me if ‘Victor’ could move in.

I agreed, since they were upping the rent, and I was going through a dry spell. At first I had though Victor to be on of his club friends who need a place to stay. It was then it all hit me. The clothes, the jewelry, the constant feng shuiing of the living room, the bath salts, and the constant stealing of my make up—something was fishy here.

Then, of course he tells me his mother was coming to visit and that it wouldn’t be long. She was some kind of novelist and had a signing here, so she though she’d check up on him after it was done. I had gone for groceries that evening and I returned to find her on my couch with her son, sipping chai tea. She greeted me, thinking I was “Lillith”, to which I had apologized and flashed a look at him. He gave a nervous look, apologizing to mama that she would be here soon.

Not even ten minutes later, Victor comes in full-out drag. It was like something take from ‘The Birdcage’, I tell you! I nearly busted out laughing, but held it in, as I was sure there was some reason behind it. We had dinner and his mother was gone by ten.

After she left I had confronted him about the meeting, and stating he shouldn’t be afraid of what his mother thought. He laughed in my face and told he had come out of the closet to her while still in High school—the problem was telling her he was a vampire!

I AM The SKA BOSS edited this message on 09/04/2008 9:15PM

PhineasPoe

Avatar: 12179 2010-01-24 16:27:57 -0500
8

[70 Character Story-
tellers
]

Level 35 Troll

You got a smudge there Phin... oh wait thats Trouts feces

This is kind of long, but I don’t really care.

———————————————————————

Brother Love’s Traveling Salvation Show

“Oh!” He put his hand over his mouth. “Aren’t I rude Rita? Can I get you anything to drink? We’ve got water, Tab, and I think there might be some red Crystal Light left.” Sacha Veber turned his head and called through oak double doors, “GiGi?” A pause, then louder, “GiGi!”

“I’m fine, really. Is GiGi, uh,” I started.

“The baron’s first name?” Sacha took a drag of his clove cigarette, “Yeah, I think he’s a little embarrbumed by it. Probably why you couldn’t find it on the Reveries of Time site. Which is why you’re here, right? You’re a supplier or something.” His voice was more breath than sound.

“Right.” Wrong. I couldn’t tell this nancy Nosferatu that though. The coven would find out too late that I was Killian MacMarder, renowned killer of alternative lifestyle monsters. In my fifteen years, I’ve taken down everything from New Age werewolves to leather freak swamp creatures. Without me the east coast would still be plagued with nudist pirate ghosts. Used to be you couldn’t buy a Steely Dan record in Oregon without getting bumaulted by a hipster Bigfoot. I made that state safe for squares. So, when the mayor of New Orleans heard there was some freaky fabulous goings on down at the docks, he called the right man.

A few questions down on the water front brought up the name Sacha Veber. Apparently he and his clique had been trolling the docks for awhile, picking up lonely sailors. I did a little research and found that Veber along with Baron GiGi Von Felch ran a scrap booking service. Clbumic fabulous personpire cover. A midnight call earned me an appointment and directions that lead to the deepest depths of the Louisiana swampland.

The Chambre de l’Arc-en-ciel Sanglant reeked of blood and bum sex. The servants and scrap booking staff were a mbum of dyed hair, pierced nipples, leather, mesh, limp wrists, and sharp bicuspids. The decor fluctuated between kitsch and Gothic, accented by large portraits of Lou Reed and Bowie. The iPod had just finished playing an electro-dance version of “Bela Lugosi’s Dead” when I first sat down with Sacha.

“I represent a stationary company and if you deal exclusively with us we’re willing to offer some deals that, honestly, I think are pretty good.”

Veber flipped his hair and said, “You could’ve just, like, called.”

I hate his kind more than any others. The fabulous personkin. They’re why I got into this business. My brother was abducted by the all gay vampire cast for the traveling show of The Fantasticks. I told him never to trust a show that doesn’t have a matinee, dammit! Now, he probably sleeps in coffin with a glory hole and haunts the actor’s entrances of musicals. At least, until I put him to rest. I gave my host a smile, “I wouldn’t be able to show you my samples.”

The next song on the iPod began playing. “Rainbow Connection,” the Kermit the Frog version. I laid the large cardboard sample case at my feet onto the table between me and Sacha. The plan was simple, take out Veber and Von Felch, the seeming masters, out first and throw the coven into a panic. Set a cleansing fire to complicate things and take down as much of the coven as I can.

Rainbows are visions/ They’re only illusions/ And rainbows have nothing to hide

I opened the case just enough to slip my hands in. My smile widened and I stared hard into Veber’s eyes. “You foul, prancing, deviant monster of the night. Prepare to feel a MacMarder’s wrath.” My hands knocked back the lid of the case as one hoisted the weight of the sword and the other my stake shooter, a divine projectile all ready chambered and ready.

“WAIT! Kuh-Killian?” I froze, the creature’s voice was different now. “It’s me…Devon.”

My brother. I had no words.

“I thought it might’ve been you. I mean, I kind of hoped it wasn’t, because of the kind of thing you’re doing nowadays.” He looked away, chewing on his lip. “I made a scrap book of all the articles about you in papers and magazines. It’s..I think it’s pretty cute, but GiGi doesn’t really…” Devon trailed off. My stake shooter was still aimed at his heart. “Don’t do this.”

“I have to…you’re a scourge. I can’t let you live this way.” He reached past my weapons and stroked my cheek.

“Oh, Killian, you don’t understand…All of us under it’s spell, we know that it’s probably magic. I have been half asleep and I have heard voices. I heard them calling my name.”

Is this the sweet sound that calls the young sailors?” I asked.

The voice may be one in the same. I’ve heard it too many times to ignore it.” He drifted towards the window and opened it up to the night. “It’s something that I’m supposed to be. Someday you’ll find it, the Rainbow Connection. The lovers, the dreamers, and me.”

“I’ll have to kill the rest,” I had put my weapons at my side, but I couldn’t bring myself to go to him.

“I understand. Just let me go, brother.” With that he was gone.

Lah dah dah dee dah dah doo…” I tried to finish the song as I sunk to the floor and cried.

When I was done crying. I killed.

PhineasPoe edited this message on 09/02/2008 10:21AM

Murderousness

Avatar: Ron Paul
5

[70 Character Story-
tellers
]

Level 35 Troll

“Problem Child IV”

This is LONG AS HELL and really very special, I wrote it in one swoop without thinking ahead at all. Its basic plot structure is stolen from “Goodbye, My Brother” by John Cheever. I think it has a few good parts but on the whole is poorly written and pretentious. But I think it’s funny.

__________________________________

GOODBYE, MY BROTHER WHO IS A VAMPIRE by MURDEROUSNESS

Being born into some modigreat times of wealth, I always believed to be a Mackenzie was something worthy of pride. We didn’t have quite the longest or most distinguished history in all of New England, but so remained our pride. I lovingly recall those long summer days in our beach house, play-acting as the noble knights of King Arthur, fighting to defend the noble family of Mackenzie. Since receiving my doctorate in Ancient English History, I laugh at the myriad bumumptions we made about the nature of knightly duty, but it doesn’t sully the companionship and solidarity I felt with my brothers on the cool nights following our feats of daring. We had risked our life to continue the Mackenzie line. We were brothers in arms, our resolve standing strong, a bastion of hope: The castle of Mackenzie would stand forever, forever fighting against injustice. It was more than a little grandiose, I could admit that even then, but our intentions were as sincere as any to be found in the annals of history. To be a Mackenzie was to be part of an unshakable whole.

I now drive towards the old beach house, my heart swelling with memories, a heart that has been beating continuously for 42 years, a heart that had been broken by a cheating wife, and a heart that here hoped to be soothed once more in the balm of familial love. My marriage was short and tumultuous, and left me childless. I suppose I was lucky for that, I have lost all pbumion for romance or commitment, and a living reminder of my pain would bumuredly become a target for undeserved resentment. My brother, Roger, was of a different cloth. He was a large, sanguine man, and he had been married to Diane for 18 years. As I slowed my car to a stop on the familiar driveway I saw Roger and his wife on their way to the front door. I almost didn’t recognize another man standing with them, unable to believe it to be their son Andrew.

“Roger!” I called. “How long has it been?”

“At least ten years, Harold. Andrew was barely more than an infant when you saw him last!” Roger bellowed as he ran towards me, his slight belly showing the age on this former Adonis. “It’s good to be back again! You can’t imagine how long I’ve been waiting to see the Mackenzies all together again!”

“The way we were meant to be.” I replied.

“Oh ho! Trying to be profound, eh, Harry? Stick to your history books!” He said jovially. “Leave the poetic stuff to Will! Ha, I wonder what he’ll be driving today! God, knowing him it’ll be brand new. Especially since his latest book is what, only 2 months old?”

“Yeah, and he just got a new contract for 3 more novels. He wouldn’t tell me the exact amount on the phone but it’s in the millions!”

“He probably blew the advance on cars before the ink dried!” Roger exclaimed, laughing.

“And here he is,” I remarked as a red Ferrari convertible pulled, purring, into the large driveway. “My God, Will,” I shouted over the revving of the engine, “You get all this praise for, what, analyzing the human condition and all you ever do is try to impress your buddies by showing off your damn cars!”

“Maybe you don’t think my materialism becoming, or my pride in my possessions sufficiently humble,” He said, killing the engine and stepping out of the car. “But what you fail to realize is that you are completely impressed!” Laughing, we embraced and entered the house.

It was hours later before Errol arrived. Errol was always the strangest of the four Mackenzie brothers. Roger was the athlete, Will the charmer, I the pragmatist. Errol was different. In our fantasies of knighthood and fighting for honor, Errol would frequently pretend he was the page to an imaginary king, whom he always described as “golden, with hard, rippling flesh” who would need to be accompanied on long quests to find some obscure magical artifact. He would try to tie his exploits in somehow with our play by claiming the artifact he sought was necessary to prevent the dissolution of the Mackenzie line, but his contributions to the game were frequently nothing more than going off by himself and making breathless comments about the bravery and strength of his “king.”

Also, Errol is a vampire. That’s weird, I guess.

Errol didn’t arrive until 9 PM that night, after dinner was over, and we were all engaged in a game of poker. Without warning, the living room windows burst open, and a bolt of lightning cracked the night sky in the distance as a gust of wind howled through the house. A fey little bat flew through the open window, and in a puff of smoke, the bat transformed into my brother, Errol.

“HELLOOOOO BUDDIES!” Errol exclaimed, deathly pale in his ankle-length black cloak, “Is it too late to deal me in, ****es? Oh wow, I’m just kidding, guys! You aren’t ****es—not yet at least! LOL!”

“Did you just say ‘lol’ out lou—” I began, before Will interrupted me.

“What is that supposed to mean, Errol? Not ****es yet? We’re your goddamn family. Please. You’re just trying to sound provocative. You have no ****ing clue what you’re really saying. Please. Try to be tolerable. If you want to play we can deal you in.” Will said, exasperated already at Errol’s antics.

Although my absence from the family was lengthy, Errol had me beat easily. None of us had seen or even heard from Errol since he was 18. At that time, Errol was a withdrawn, insecure person, not only with his vampirism and eternal thirst for human blood, but with his own identity. One day, he appeared before the entire family at breakfast, with packed bags, and told us that he was going to California to study theater. We were stunned, thinking Errol would soon return, or if he were serious, at least contact us. Instead, Errol would go unheard-from for over 2 decades.

A few hours and several whiskey sours later, the game continued. Errol was rationalizing his frequent losses by claiming his “squeeze” Rachel was the real poker champion. Upon being asked why Rachel didn’t accompany him, Errol danced around the question like he was on ****ing America’s Best Dance Crew presented by Randy Jackson. Which he referenced no fewer than six times in 2 hours. Although a general awkwardness pervaded the proceedings, the night truly turned sour when, in a slightly drunken error of dexterity, Diane gave herself a small paper cut with one of her cards. It went unnoticed by Diane or anyone else, until we saw Errol’s eyes suddenly widen whilst his pupils rapidly contracted.

“Oh gosh! Diane, wow, you’re bleeding, alright.” Errol said, entranced.

“All right, Errol, it’s just a little cut, leave my wife alone.” Roger said, defensively.

“Leave her alone? What did you think I was going to do? Gosh! Oh Roger, you’re so silly. Silly. So…silly…silly. Roger. Silly.” Errol replied, every second becoming more transfixed by the blood dripping out of Diane’s finger.

Will produced a tissue from his pocket and handed it to Diane. As she moved to press the tissue against her bleeding finger, Errol let loose a shriek and leaped across the table onto Diane, knocking her backwards onto the floor.

“NO! DON’T YOU DARE, BREEDER! DON’T WASTE THE YUMMY!” Errol screamed in a rage. Slapping the tissue out of her hand, he lunged forward and placed his mouth over her wound. After taking two long drags on the sweet, sweet blood, Errol’s skull met the swing of Roger’s crucifix, knocking the poor bastard out.

“Sorry, Errol, but I had to. You’ll feel better in the morning.” Roger said, the pity thick in his voice. Diane was shaken but unhurt, and we all headed for bed, hoping tomorrow would be a better day.

The next day saw a visit to the beach. Roger’s son, Andrew, had joined some other neigborhood kids for a game of volleyball. Errol, fully dressed and under a parasol, licked his lips whilst noticeably leering at the young man. Roger knew what Errol was doing, but was trying to remain silent. I could hear short phrases whispered under Errol’s breath, “full of life,” “yummy,” “fabulous personballs,” and the like. Will, desperate to break the tension, spoke up.

“So, uh, Errol. I don’t know what you’ve been up to these past few…hell, decades. You probably know, but I’m a bestselling author now. There was some buzz a few years back I might win a Nobel Prize,” he said, his digression filling him with pride. “Ever read any of my work?

“Well, gosh, brobro. I totally have, you know! I was in Frisco—that’s San Francisco, you know. Did you know? It is—and I was like ‘Errol, buddy, you’re, like, illiterate! You need some book larnin’!’ I said ‘book larnin’ in a southern accent, too. SO FUNNY. So I go to Borders and what name do I see on the shelf but my old brobro William S. Mackenzie! I totes had to buy it, brobro.” Errol said, wrists-a-flyin’.

“Oh, so you’ve read my work! What did you think?” Will asked, eager for praise.

“Ohh, total crap! Sorry man, but it was totally chauvinistic. I didn’t know I had Hemingway for a brother! I thought you understood people more, to be honest!” Errol replied.

“Chauvinistic? Hemingway? Are you ****ing very special? My books are about the fragility and injustices of human existence!” Will said in disbelief.

“Humans? Ugh! Breederfabulous persons, all of them! Human existence is just so boring, brobro! I can’t relate to mortalfabulous persons thinking they’re all cool. Write a book about me, then those Swedes will be over you like me on Ramon’s male reproductive organ! I mean, Rachel’s woman's genitals!” Errol said.

I could tell Will’s ire was rising and Roger was still seething. I knew this situation was a powderkeg and I felt in my heart an almost ancient duty to protect the unity of the Mackenzies. I didn’t want to have fought all those fantastical childhood battles for nothing.

“Errol, I’ve been meaning to walk the old ridge again. You know it has the most beautiful view around. Let’s walk it together, we can catch up.” I said, desperate he’d agree. Luckily he did.

As we got out of earshot, I let my emotions get the best of me and I said to him with no small amount of venom, “Why the hell are you doing this, Errol? ****. You abandoned us for ****ing decades and since coming back here you’ve been astronomically fabulous persongy. I can’t believe what a male reproductive organ you’ve become.” I instantly knew I shouldn’t have said it, I had just done what I had called Errol aside to prevent. I knew I had stuck a wedge between Errol and the family. I was not being a good knight.

Errol’s face became more serious than I had ever seen it.“Well, Harold, do you want me to tell you the truth? The truth is you all are bloodies. Bloodies are total bumes. It’s an ugly word, I know, but it’s apt,” he said, in an uncharacteristically serious tone. I had no idea what ‘bloody’ meant but I bumumed it was a hateful term for mortals. “All of you. Roger and that dumb wife think only about physicality. Only about their dumb bloody human bodies. Always running around and havin’ sex. fabulous persongos! That tart son of theirs, always flauntin’ his warm, bloody flesh, always teasin’ me. I can’t take that kind of cruelty!” I could feel my fists clenching. Errol’s old “king” wasn’t looking for anything to help the Mackenzies. They were looking for an escape. I could tell he had found it. He had become an enemy. He was trying to break the family. “And Will! God, thinking he’s so FABULOUS just ‘cause he can write about some bloodies with problems. As if there were anything less important! If there’s one thing I’ve learned it’s that bloodies just don’t understand how little they matter.” Errol turned away from me, and I bent over and picked up a nearby branch that had fallen from a tree.

“And you, Harold. I always respected you. You always had a clear head. You always knew what was going on. Like, what was really going on. You understood things.” I began to loosen my grip on the branch. “Not anymore. You became totally silly.” Hearing the demon’s final insult, I made my decision, and buried the branch in Errol’s heart. As his misty satanic essence flowed from his eye sockets, I felt like the most triumphant knight who ever bore the Mackenzie coat of arms. For the first time, my victories weren’t just imaginary. I had, in reality, slain an enemy of our family. Errol crumbled to the ground, and looking at him, pathetic, fabulous persongy, dying, and alone, I felt the first pang of regret. He looked at me with his last ounce of strength, and I saw the pain in his eyes. Not just the pain of being impaled with a piece of wood. Of course I would see that pain. That pain wouldn’t be noteworthy. I saw the pain of betrayal. More than anything, he was hurt by the fact that the man who drove the stake through his heart was his own brother. He opened his mouth, but all that came out was a sob and a choke, and Errol’s life ended. That’s when I realized what I had done. I realized what I had just become. Shaking with confusion and terror, I collected my brother’s dead body and took him back to the rest of the family. When they recognized what it was I was carrying, all conversation stopped, the color drained from their faces. I laid Errol on the ground, tears streaming from my eyes.

“I did this. I killed him. I destroyed the Mackenzies. I killed him. There’s nothing left.” I fell down to my knees, and kissed Errol’s forehead. “Goodbye, my brother.” Although my heart would continue to beat for 45 more years, that was the day I died.

Murderousness edited this message on 09/05/2008 1:03AM

Impenetrable-
Formation

Avatar: Baby Typing
4

Level 27 Permanoob

“Brain Dead”

There was once a bored little man. He had pale skin, red eyes, and black hair. He had sharp teeth like those of vampires. He had a very boring routine. He worked in a minimum wage job which he did not like. When he is finished with his job, he goes home to his computer. He would turn it on and look at it for hours until his head drops. Then, he slept.

When he woke up one day, he saw blood on his shorts. He was disturbed by this sight. But he simply shrugged it off and went to work. The same old routine followed, until a man approached him.

“Hiiiii.”

“Uhh… hello.”

“Hello there darling! I’m the new employee here. Pleased to meet you!”

“Uhh… yeah. Pleased to meet you too.”

The new employee moved and talked in an effeminate manner, but everytime the job was finished he went home with a girl, presumably his girlfriend. This rules out the possibility of him being gay. The man looked at the employee intently, then went home.

The next day, he saw it again. Blood on his shorts. As to what happened before, he simply shrugged it off and read the newspaper. He was surprised to read about the new employee being brutally murdered. The article makes mention of how the man’s bum bled copious amounts of blood and how there was a barb wire dildo nearby. He was intrigued about this, but later on he would forget it and continue on to work.

After he finished his routine, he walked home. But while walking, he suddenly got a powerful headache that would dull his senses. He still tried to walk to his home, but he wasn’t sure if he actually walked there. For the next few hours, he heard the sounds of cars, dance music, and people. He wasn’t sure why. Then, he heard sounds of kissing, pleasure, and pain. The sound of pain he remembered. He remembered it dearly. He heard the pain for 20 minutes, then he felt himself getting closer. He heard a bite, then the sound of a man sipping something. After the ordeal is over, he got to his senses. In front of him was a naked lifeless man. Blood continually gushes out of the man’s bum. It was plugged with a barb wire dildo. After seeing this sight, he tried to flee. However, police came and arrested him for murder.

“But Officer! I didn’t do this!”

“Then how come you are the only person in this room who is beside this dead body? Care to explain?”

“But… but… but… I didn’t do this! Honest!”

“Go explain yourself in court. Until then rot in jail.”

And he did. He had no way to explain himself. As such he wasted his days in jail. He developed a new routine there that he would follow for a long time. Eat, work, eat, work, eat, sleep. He had no one to talk to but the lunch lady.

One day, after he woke up, he saw it again. Blood covering his pants. This time he panicked. He asked the officer:

“Officer, did someone die today!?”

“Yes, apparently. The person locked beside your cell got rammed with a barb wire dildo… just like your victim.”

“But I didn’t do it! How could I get out of my own cage?”

“I don’t know. As for now we’re transferring you to a much more secure locale…”

He was trapped in an asylum. He had nothing to do there other than to sit and sleep. He becomes a little crazier every single day, with him developing an imaginary friend. He plotted with this friend as to how he will get out.

“Hey, friend, do you know how will we get out?”

”...”

“Oh, that’s okay, no need to talk… I’ll get us out of here someday. But I’ll need your help, right friend? After all you are my friend….”

”...”

“Hahahahahahhahahhahahahahah…”

No one would talk to him for a month. He was trapped in a cell with no openings whatsoever. It was tightly closed aside from an air vent on the ceiling. One day, a doctor came. He went inside the cell with guards guarding the way out. Suddenly the crazy man lost his senses. He blacked out for a long time. A very very long time.

Now he was trapped in a far worse prison. He was trapped in his own mind. He has no one to talk to. No imaginary friend to comfort him. No sights to see. Just darkness. He spent his time here to talk to himself about different things: his mental health, his situation, the stars in the sky; everything he talked about. Until one day, an outside voice finally spoke to him in a vampire-like voice.

“How’s it going there, my alter-ego?”

”...”

“Aww, don’t give me the silent treatment there, man! We’re very close right?”

”...”

“In fact, I should thank you for giving me full control over your body! Now no one can hinder me from exacting my revenge against all of man!”

”...”

“Bah. It’s no use talking to a lifeless being, I guess.”

”...no, wait!”

No one responded. He would call out wait for a million times over and over, yet no one will respond. Again, he was trapped within his own mind, doing nothing but talk to himself. He cried at times when he remembered who he once was; an ordinary person. He wanted that life back. He wanted that so badly. He wanted to take his body back.

Day after day he concentrated his thoughts into taking back his body. He would focus his thoughts into trying to see the outside world, but he couldn’t even see a glimpse of it. He would think about hearing the birds chirping, but he couldn’t even hear the wind blowing nor his own footsteps. He would concentrate his mind into trying to feel his own male reproductive organ, but he couldn’t even feel his hands. He would remember how pie would taste like and would try to relive the taste, but he couldn’t even taste his own spit. It was no use.

One day, while he was droning on about his failure, he suddenly got his sight back. He tried to look at his hands, but he can’t move his head, nor his legs and hands. He just saw himself kissing a man.

“What the **** is this?” he thought.

“This is my revenge.”

The man he was kissing got down on all fours. He was ready to be bum****ed.

“I would just like to show this to you before I finally dominate your body.”

He got the barb wire dildo. Without the man seeing it, he got bum****ed with it. He saw the whole ordeal. He… no, his body ****ed the man’s bum hard. Blood gushed out of the bum with each thrust. His screams were not screams of joy, but screams of pain and suffering. At this point the man was begging for his life.

“Please… stop this. I don’t… want this… anymore.”

“You’re getting what you deserve, heathen. Your ancestors wiped out my race.”

“What do you… urgh…”

“That’s right. Your ancestors destroyed my kind. My friends, my family, my love. Every one of them lost. Now I am back in this man’s body to exact my revenge.”

“No… but why… why… this?”

“It wouldn’t matter. You’re gonna die anyway. Now squeal for me.

****.”

With one final thrust, the man screamed. The man was lifeless now, blood gushing out of his bum still.

“Now you know why I am here.”

”...”

“Your ancestors were part of the ordeal as well, you know.”

”...since when were you a part of me?”

“Since you were born.”

At this point he bit the man’s bum. He sucked the remaining blood out of the man. At this point it was clear to him now. This guy is a vampire.

“Any last words before I cast you out?”

”...”

“None?”

”...”

“Okay then. See you in hell, bastard.”

“NO. I won’t let you do this.”

There was a struggle between the two souls. They fight for one thing: control. The body slammed into everything in sight as this went on. A police saw the man struggling and immediately called backup. He wasn’t able to act though as the struggling man slammed into him as well, knocking the officer out.

“It’s useless. You can’t win. I have better control over your body. When you were still young, I have honed my skill to control it. This is my body now.”

“Well, this has been my body all my life. I didn’t need to control it when I did what I needed to do. And now I’m taking it back.”

The struggle went on. It went on for a long while. That is, until backup arrived.

“We’ve got you surrounded! Put your hands in the air!”

The man stopped for a while. He thought for a moment, then ran towards an officer. He stole the officer’s gun.

“You’re going to end it!? What a foolish move. I am a powerful being. I can control even dead bodies! And yet you end your wasted time on this soil? What foolishness.”

“This is the only way I know to stop you. And this is my body…

...not yours.”

“Whatever. It’s your folly, not mine.”

He pointed it to his head. For a moment, everything stopped. No one was moving at all. It’s as if time suddenly stopped for everything except the man. He looked around him, savoring his last moments on earth.

“Well, I guess this is goodbye then.”

“Go on then. End your sufferings. Shuffle off this mortal coil. You will just unleash the beast onto the world.”

“I don’t care. In fact, you should be happy. Why aren’t you happy?”

”...”

”...”

”...”

“He wouldn’t talk to me anymore.”

”...”

“It’s just like before…”

After he uttered those words, time continued. The police were ordering him to drop the gun. Many of them were coming from all directions. He was going to be arrested.

“Screw you bastards.”

With those words, he pulled the trigger. He fell on his knees. His body dropped on the pavement while his head slammed into it, breaking the neck. As the near-lifeless body’s eyes looked at the sky, someone talked to him once more.

“The Lord bless you and keep you; The Lord make His face shine upon you, and be gracious to you; The Lord lift up His countenance upon you, and give you peace.”

Upon hearing those words, he simply smiled. He was now dead. The police looked around, as if looking if there are any witnesses. Upon finishing, they got out crucifixes, garlic, and other stuff that are known to kill vampires.

“Maintain your positions. We may have a fight on our hands.”

The body lay lifeless upon the road. The police stood watching it. What happens next is lost in the annals of time. The body might have become a full-fledged vampire, or it might have stayed dead. Whatever happens, this tale will be remembered.

Impenetrable Formation edited this message on 09/08/2008 6:11AM

quangntenemy

Avatar: 14557 2011-10-31 11:07:55 -0400
59

[WeChall]

Level 69 Troll

:ronpaul: :****ing sucks:

I raped a fat Brazilian chick – also known as Diary of a troll hero, part 2 (where’s part 1? here)

Tired of the long flight and the terrifying nightmare at Fran’s place, I threw myself on the bed and instantly fell into a weird dream.

In my dream, Fran appeared prettier than ever. She jumped into my arms. I embraced her, and just when I was about to kiss her, I felt unbearable weight collapsed onto me. The weight of hundreds of fat Brazilian chicks. They all jumped onto me.

I struggled, in vain. I cried, in darkness. Someone please save me! I felt unbearable pains. And from the darkness, a similar face slowly faded in. It was enire. And then tubs was here too. They had came to my rescue!

Log in to see images!

And then, all of a sudden, the two jumped over me too. I fought back in vain. And gradually, things faded away.

And then suddenly I felt myself grabbed violently, then turned upside down. A giant arm torn off my clothes. Thanks to my reflex of a judo player, I rolled out of the bed, avoiding the violent thrush of a hairy giant male reproductive organ.

Appearing before my eyes was this fearsome giant creature that I never imagined to see in real life:

Log in to see images!

The creature jumped at me again, and I needed the jumping tiger move to dodge his attack. But then with his second move, I was completely pwned by him. He forcibly disabled my arms, and his male reproductive organ was thrushing towards me. I was about to suffer the most painful shot I never ever imagined in my life! Log in to see images!

“**** you!”, I shouted. “Stop it, Banhammer! I know it’s you, Banhammer from Forumwarz! Stop this ****ing ****!”

“Wha?”, surprised Banhammer, “Little mortal, how the hell do you know my name?”

“**** you! I’m quangntenemy, from Forumwarz too. I added you as a friend, remember? How could you ever do this to such a good buddy like me?”

“OK, sorry, quang. It’s unfortunate that we have to meet in such a cirgreat timesstance… I’ll let you know the truth before going into the underworld.”

“You see, I’m not a human. Well, I used to be, but now I’m no longer one. My father was a vampire. And he did something stupid as to raping a human girl and let her leave alive. And thus I was born.”

“Everyone was nice to me, when I was a kid. But then people started to abandon me. I gradually found myself in a world of hatred. And suddenly my mother died of illness when I was at the young age of 6. For some weird reason I found her blood very tasty. And I have been sucking human blood since then.”

“**** off! I don’t care if you’re vampire or werewolf or ****! Just go to hell! Go!”

“Gah, it’s fine if you don’t wanna know. Just one more thing I got to add. I have a special taste for guys, too. You know, I feel great everytime I **** them. That’s what you human called gay, right? Whatever, I’ll enjoy ya, and after that suck all the blood out of ya. It’s unfortunate, quangntenemy. But please rest in peace. I’ll pray for ya.”

“Not me, you ****er! You know Fran, right? She’s tasty. Spare my life, then I’ll bring you to her. You can enjoy her, suck her, do whatever you want with her!”

“Fran? That fat Brazilian chick? Hmm. She might be hot. But dude, you know, I only like guys. Log in to see images!

“Worry not, my friend Log in to see images! It’s Fran, you know. She has an army of fat guys. They’ll be yours!”

“An army of fat guys? That’s awesome! C’mon, take me, take me! Right now please~! よろしくぅ(^o^)/”

**********

Log in to see images!

It must have been the weirdest flight in my life. On the back of a vampire. Not as comfortable as on the Boeing I had yesterday, but fun nonetheless. I decided to phone Fran to get thing well-prepared.

“Yo, quang! You little pathetic guy! Where have you run off to? My friends still want more Log in to see images!

“Honey, don’t worry, I’m coming! And you should invite your boy friends too. You know, it’ll be more fun!”

“Oooh! You sure have strange taste there! Alright, just don’t run away this time, ‘kay? Log in to see images!

It took me three calls to get through to enire. It sounded like he hadn’t recovered from the accident yet.

“What’s up, quang? I’m still a bit tired. Let me sleep a little more, okay?”

“Yo, enire. Wanna come back to Fran’s place? I got Banhammer here with us.”

“Noway, man. Those girls are crazy. I don’t think Hammer or even ET can handle them”.

“Dude, worry not. He’s a vampire. He’ll defeat everything that stands in our way.”

“Uhm.. you’re alright? Vampire? No, thanks! Go with him and write another diary, okay? I’ll be praying for ya!”

tubs was probably the most shocked after the incident. The only response was the answer machine. “Sorry, guys, I think I’m getting a little paranoid at the moment. Please leave your message after the tone, I’ll call back later…”

**********

Probably Banhammer’s favourite idol was Santa Claus. He insisted that we should enter Fran’s house via the chimney to give her a little surprise. And she was, indeed, not because of the way we entered her house, but of Banhammer’s shocking appearance. Something she could never imagined.

We started drinking again, while waiting for Fran’s friends to come. I and Fran both drank her special French wine, which was surprisingly quite good, while Hammer drank this weird tomato wine he found in the basement. He explained it was the only thing that tasted like human blood that he could find (Log in to see images!)

Log in to see images!

We didn’t have to wait too long for the first guest to come. Believe it or not, it was our friend Simon Groothuizen! Dressed formally in a tux, what the hell was he thinking?

Log in to see images!

Instinctively, Banhammer grabbed SG into the kitchen. At first, there were moans of excitement. But later into the game, the moans gradually turned into screams of pain. And after just a short while, Banhammer came back, more excited than ever.

“Hey, mate! That guy was great! More please! ( ̄▽ ̄)ノ_彡☆バンバン!!”

Banhammer’s next victim was a guy named Pickled male reproductive organbum. This monster really gave Banhammer a hard time, but in the end the vampire still wanted more.

Log in to see images!

Just like that, more and more guys were taken into the kitchen, to satisfy our bloodthisty vampire. Seeing everything going fine, I grabbed Fran to her room upstair for some fun too. And of course, revenge!

Just when I was pushing my male reproductive organ into her bum pbumionately, there was the sound of breaking glbum. Two dark figures jumped in through the window. enire and tubs, of course!

“Hey, quang, you rock! Let us join the party!”

The three of us violently raped Fran in every way we could think of (and as described in Kamasutra). In the end, Fran fell into bed, completely exhausted.

Banhammer must have been the happiest in his life. He couldn’t stop thanking me for the best raping fiesta he ever had, ever since being born in this cruel world. And finally, he disappeared, into his mysterious world.

I, enire, and tubs parted way at Rio de Janeiro airport. We all hoped to have another great journey together soon.

quangntenemy edited this message on 09/02/2008 11:43AM

iRAWR

Avatar: 49692 Wed Nov 05 00:16:18 -0500 2008

Level 10 Emo Kid

NEW CEO OF FORUMWARZ INC.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~PART 1~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

WARNING: THIS STORY MAY CONTAIN EXPLICIT SCENES OF SUPER HOT GAY SEX (AND BY GAY I MEAN MAN-ON-MAN.)

Alex looked at Paul and he noticed how sexy he was. He walked over to Paul and started to nibble on his neck.

“No”,said Paul, “no”.

“You know you want it”, Alex replied.

They took off their clothing and began to caress each other’s sculpted bodies. Alex took Paul’s male reproductive organ and began to lick it, sending Paul into moans of pleasure.

Paul bent over, and Alex inserted his male reproductive organ into his bum. He took it in and out, slowly. Just as he was about to climax, the head vampire came in.

“What the **** are you doing?!”, yelled Cro’vax the Head Vampire.

“Uh, I..” both Paul and Alex said.

Cro’vax glared at Alex. “I want you to stay away from my son!”, he said.

“But dad! I thought you knew!”, Paul replied.

“I’m going to convert you. I will make you straight again, for the love of all that is unholy.” Cro’vax shouted.

“It’s not as if he has a choice!” yelled Alex.

“Quiet, you idiot.” Cro’vax said. He darted toward Alex and decapitated him with one swipe of his claws.

“NO!”, Paul cried out, “I hate you!”

“He was making you think that you are gay. He had to die” Cro’vax replied.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Part 2~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Paul had gotten very far. Ever since his father had killed Alex, he wanted nothing to do with the vampire cult. He estimated he was somewhere in North Dakota by now, and wondered if any of the vampires were tracking him. He made sure to coat his shoes with garlic to cover his footsteps, but he was afraid that it might not be enough.

Suddenly, he felt a stake go through his heart.

This is the end, he thought. His body slumped to the floor; Dead.

King Krimson

Avatar: King Krimson's Avatar
11

[Snobby McSnobbers-
ons
]

Level 69 Troll

A lot fo kewl boiz wer it ok!

iRAWR Posted:

WARNING: THIS STORY MAY CONTAIN EXPLICIT SCENES OF SUPER HOT GAY SEX (AND BY GAY I MEAN MAN-ON-MAN.)

What part of ‘ambiguously gay’ don’t you understand?

And if this was in the RP forums, I would probably launch into a long tirade about you, your post, and aspects of you that you cannot control.

What I will do, however, is call you a flaming queen.

Homo.

King Krimson edited this message on 09/02/2008 6:06AM

iRAWR

Avatar: 49692 Wed Nov 05 00:16:18 -0500 2008

Level 10 Emo Kid

NEW CEO OF FORUMWARZ INC.

King Krimson Posted:

What part of ‘ambiguously gay’ don’t you understand?

And if this was in the RP forums, I would probably launch into a long tirade about you, your post, and aspects of you that you cannot control.

What I will do, however, is call you a flaming queen.

Homo.

I am gay.

And YOU are just jealous because my story is the best evar.

zigzagoon

Avatar: 28782 2011-07-31 12:19:07 -0400
5

Level 20 Permanoob

“Asshat”

ha, pretty good stuff so far Log in to see images!

something like two days left i think!

zigzagoon

Avatar: 28782 2011-07-31 12:19:07 -0400
5

Level 20 Permanoob

“Asshat”

sup guys?

with the first prize of 7 bp you could get all of forumwarz episode 2! put a little effort in it and you might win! Log in to see images!

King Krimson

Avatar: King Krimson's Avatar
11

[Snobby McSnobbers-
ons
]

Level 69 Troll

A lot fo kewl boiz wer it ok!

Slight change of plan; I may not be able to enter the contest. Tomorrow I have to sort out all of my lessons and stuff, so that they’ll actually accept me. Fingers crossed that I’ll still be able to enter.

If I don’t get into my clbumes I’m blaming you guys.

I AM The SKA-
BOSS

Avatar: 42627 Wed Oct 15 19:08:31 -0400 2008
2

[70 Character Story-
tellers
]

Level 25 Troll

“Dick in a Box”

Murderousness Posted:

This is LONG AS HELL and really very special, I wrote it in one swoop without thinking ahead at all. Its basic plot structure is stolen from “Goodbye, My Brother” by John Cheever. I think it has a few good parts but on the whole is poorly written and pretentious. But I think it’s funny.

I really liked yours. It totally kicked my story’s bum and left it to bleed in an alley dumpster.

zigzagoon

Avatar: 28782 2011-07-31 12:19:07 -0400
5

Level 20 Permanoob

“Asshat”

King Krimson Posted:

Slight change of plan; I may not be able to enter the contest. Tomorrow I have to sort out all of my lessons and stuff, so that they’ll actually accept me. Fingers crossed that I’ll still be able to enter.

If I don’t get into my clbumes I’m blaming you guys.

well i may be able to extend the contest time a little if the others are fine with that, how long do you need?

i like to have them three days long but maybe people want more time to write their stuff idk Log in to see images!

King Krimson

Avatar: King Krimson's Avatar
11

[Snobby McSnobbers-
ons
]

Level 69 Troll

A lot fo kewl boiz wer it ok!

zigzagoon Posted:

i may be able to extend the contest time a little if the others are fine with that, how long do you need?

i like to have them three days long but maybe people want more time to write their stuff idk Log in to see images!

Yeah, three days is a little tight to write a competent story, at least for me. I don’t know though, sometimes I get a really good feel of a story, and sometimes I don’t, so it’s a possiblilty that the story will be **** anyway.

If you would extend the deadline, that would be cool. Don’t worry too much about it.

Murderousness

Avatar: Ron Paul
5

[70 Character Story-
tellers
]

Level 35 Troll

“Problem Child IV”

I AM The SKA BOSS Posted:

I really liked yours. It totally kicked my story’s bum and left it to bleed in an alley dumpster.

Log in to see images!

quangntenemy

Avatar: 14557 2011-10-31 11:07:55 -0400
59

[WeChall]

Level 69 Troll

:ronpaul: :****ing sucks:

If u extend the deadline maybe u should give prize for runner ups too.

Big Brother

Avatar: 45759 Fri Oct 17 23:44:23 -0400 2008

Level 66 Troll

woman's genitals

Love Without Females and With Blood

Sir Vampire-Elton Vampire-John wandered through the streets. He was deeply in love. He moved through the streets. The streets were moved through by him. His wandering continued, through the streets. Street-wandering resumed, by him. Move-streeting by him resumed. He wandered far and wide through the streets, hoping to wander farrer and wider through the streetser. Then, he came across his object of affection. He sucked all blood out of it. The bloodless, nude man was dead. The nude, bloodless man was dead. Death befalled the nude and bloodless man. He was dead you see. Sir Vampire-Elton Vampire-John felt sorry that he killed him. Sorriness was felt for the killingness done. He was sorry that he was dead as a result of his actions.

BEST SELLER! OUTSELLS EVEN HARRY POTTER!

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