&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& SATURDAY, JULY 27th, 1996 &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& DEAD MAN'S PARTY by Dianne la Mercenaire Time: approx. 11 pm Place: on the banks of the Don River The nearly-full moon shone eerily over the softly rippling water of the river, barely seeming to touch upon a tall figure draped in folds of inky black. The crickets fell silent as the figure approached the bank, walking slowly, deliberately. At the edge of the water, the figure paused. A pale hand emerged from the robes, lifted slightly, and pointed a long finger to the left. Pivoting silently, the apparition moved that direction a scant step, paused, then repeated the motion to the right. Then turning further, until it faced once again the way it had come, the specter stopped, raised both hands high, and spoke: "Where the h*ll *are* we, Christina?" Breathing hard, the Mercenary Mommy General caught up and dumped a heavy knapsack at her Grand High Poohbah's feet. Trying hard not to laugh at Dianne's 'night-camouflage outfit', she stated the obvious -- as somebody had to -- "We're at the river." Dianne glared and started flailing her arms ineffectively. "I can see _that_!" The cloth only became more tangled. "You're the one with the map. You're the one who used I-don't-even-want-to-know-*what*-kind-of- resources to figure out exactly where Vachon buried him...." She almost fell over her own feet as she struggled with her attire. "And what on *earth* did you wrap me in? A *bedsheet*? Christina dug out the map from her back pocket and choked down another fit of giggling. "Actually," she mentioned as casually as possible, "there was a close-out sale on spare yardage at the Fabric Mart...." "I look like a ninja mummy!" Dianne insisted (with some justification). "I should have *known* better when you wouldn't wear one yourself!" she growled, finally finding an end and starting to unwrap herself. "Very artistic, I'm sure, but I can't move, I can't see, and I *know* you're laughing at me...." "Right over there!" Christina pointed, avoiding the issue head-on. But as she moved away, Dianne -- just free of the encumbering cloth -- grabbed her by the shoulder. "Bring the bag!" Christina looked down at the bag, then up at Dianne. "*You* bring the bag ... I'm navigating!" The Poohbah blinked (once, slowly), then drew herself up to her full height and glared down at her General. "Bring the bag!" As Christina frowned, Dianne's posture relaxed a bit. "Trust me, you'll *want* to have the bag with us. Besides, I must carry the Shillelaigh." Christina took a good look at the large, carved, pointed stick -- a piece of wood that seemed to have been shaped for no other purpose than the quick and deadly dispatch of vampires (A real hot seller! Get yours today!) -- and picked up the bag. As they moved towards the appropriate few square feet of dirt, she made the mistake of asking: "So what's in this bag anyway?" "Lots of dead rats and a couple of gallons of fresh blood." "Ewww!" Christina reflexively dropped the bag again. "It's for protection," Dianne informed her with the superior air of one who'd already had time to get used to the idea. "We've also got garlic spread...." "I'll take the garlic." Christina breathed a sigh of relief and began to gingerly poke through the knapsack. "Not yet," Dianne insisted, slapping her hands away. "Can't risk it yet. Grab a shovel and start digging." "Why should *I* be the one doing the digging?" "Because *I'm* doing the writing!" ******* Twenty minutes later, they had cleared the top foot or so of earth off the appropriate area. "That's enough." Dianne stopped her. "I don't want to go too far and ... well ... if ... decomposition and all .... I mean, we can't be sure *exactly* where the dirt ends...." That was enough to get Christina a good few steps back from the grave in record time. "Hand me the blood." "Get the bag. Get the shovel. Get the blood." Christina grumbled. "Who was your flunky this time last year?" "You were, dearest." Dianne smiled, taking the bags from her hands before she could drop them again. Christina snatched her hands back. "They're *warm*...." She looked at Dianne. "I don't want to know, do I?" "No." "Oh no...." She watched as Dianne stepped forward, opened the bags, and poured unit after unit of fresh blood on the opened grave. ******* The blood had made quite a mess, soaking the ground thoroughly and making a large puddle of mud that was best not contemplated too closely. But nothing else happened. Dianne leaned against the Shillelaigh of If-Not-Death,-Then-What-Must- Be-Presumed-to-Be-at-Least-Extreme-*Pain*, a thoughtful look on her face. "It *should* work." She frowned. "Maybe we should try Vachon?" Christina offered, eyeing the mud warily. Dianne shook her head absently. "No, no. We haven't been paid for that." "Who paid you for *this*?" Dianne straightened up and glared at her. "We don't *have* to be paid for this one. Screed was a Merc in deed, if not in name. I'm the GHP and I can declare this 'the Guild-sponsored rescue of a fellow Merc' if I want to!" Christina stared right back. "All right, already! Sheesh!" She shook her head. "A little defensive on the subject, are we? I mean, you didn't do this just 'cuz you liked RatBoy, did you?" She looked back at the Poohbah with an evil grin. "Because, that would be a job without payment, you know. A first-class violation of the Guild Charter...." A scrabbling sound at their feet distracted them. But it was the skeletal-looking, clawing, bone-white hand that was pushing up through the dirt that really got their attention. Christina's widening eyes turned to meet Dianne's. "What do we do now?" she whispered as an arm quickly came into view. Phrases like 'first hunger' and 'exsanguination' were flashing through her mind at a dizzying pace. Dianne dropped to one knee and tore open the bag. "Grab a handful of rats and start throwing!" &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& WHAT SHALL WE DO WITH A DRUNKEN SAILOR? by Dianne la Mercenaire Time: approx. midnight Place: on the banks of the Don River Luckily by the time the rat supply had given out, Screed had passed that first, dangerous hunger. Sitting for a moment and rubbing muscles sore from repeated rat-lobbing (Olympic sport of the future? You be the judge...), Dianne and Christina had taken the opportunity to slather garlic spread on their necks anyway. It never hurt to take precautions. As she finished gathering up little rat corpses into the bag and was about to haul it into the river, Christina heard a strangled, choking noise behind her. Spinning around, she found Dianne -- perfectly safe and staring at a snoring Screed. "He fell *asleep*?" Christina asked. "Not only that," Dianne offered, "but we seem to have answered the eternally asked question: 'Do vampires snore?' " With a sigh she poked at the pale, muddy form with the Shillelaigh, but even that failed to rouse him. "We're gonna have to carry him off or he might just get himself scorched in the morning and undo all our hard work." Dianne did not look particularly pleased at either alternative. Neither did Christina. "And where are you planning on taking him?" At Dianne's studied silence, she caught on. "You didn't think that out, did you?" She groaned. "Now we have a filthy, convalescing, *snoring* vampire on our hands and no place to put him!" "We'll put him in Lisa Prince's basement room." "But what if she's there?" Christina protested. "She won't be," Dianne responded with a great deal more assurance than she felt. [It was a skill you picked up as a Merc -- and honed as an affiliation leader.] "And with the tunnels she's had dug out from under there, he won't even have to wait until sundown to wander off through the sewers if he's so inclined." Dianne reached for an arm. Christina sighed. "Oh all right. But I'm not carrying him -- we'll *drag* him." As Dianne started to protest, Christina put on her best, 'Final offer: take it or carry him yourself!' look. "He's comatose and won't feel a thing. And since he's currently recovering from being *dead and buried for a few months*, I think his immune system can handle a few more scrapes and bruises." Dianne nodded and started pulling ... but *she* sure didn't plan to be around when he woke up.... &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& SUNDAY, JULY 28th, 1996 &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& YOU'RE NOT LEAVING *THAT* IN HERE! by Lisa Prince Time: early morning Place: Merc Central Mercenary Cousin Lisa was finally falling off to sleep in her specially constructed war room in the basement of Merc. Central. She had kicked the workers out a half and hour ago, explaining that there were more than enough side tunnels and dead ends to prevent anyone from accidentally stumbling in here on the off chance that they found one of the hidden outside entrances. She had turned this one, little, basement, utility room into a four-room suite that had everything she could ever want or need. The tunnels were an afterthought really. She knew that as a split faction Mercenary/Cousin she would need to keep her dealings with either side fairly quiet. This suite offered her that opportunity. Of course, her father was going to have a fit when he figured out that she had hi- jacked a bunch of his workers and equipment and took them to another country, but she'd deal with that problem when it arrived. Thoughts of her upcoming job and her current situation were flitting through her mind as she dozed off. Suddenly, her tranquillity was broken by a loud knocking on the door. She knew Dianne and Christina had warned people to stay away, so she was alert immediately. Lisa stumbled through the darkened bedroom and the control room to the door. She peered through the peep hole and saw Dianne standing there smiling pensively. Unlocking and opening the door a crack, Lisa asked, "What's going on?" "We need a favor," Dianne replied. "Already?" Lisa said, "Well, what is it?" Gesturing behind her, Dianne said looking rather hopeful, "We need to lock him in your room." Lisa leaned over to the right to see what Dianne was pointing at. Once she saw it, she stayed there unmoving. She looked like a blinking Leaning Tower of Pisa. Straightening back up, Lisa snarked, "Now *that* gives new meaning to the term -- looks like a drowned rat." "Well," Dianne snapped, "open up and let us dump him." "You're *not* dumping him in here," Lisa snapped right back. "I paid the guild a lot of money for this little set-up and I'm not about to smell it up by having a rat-sucking vampire locked up in my bedroom!" Dianne put her hands on her hips, rose up to her full height and bellowed, "YOU'RE IN MY HOUSE AND UNDER MY ROOF AND AS LONG AS YOU ARE YOU'LL OBEY MY RULES!!! NOW, OPEN UP!!!!" When Lisa just stood there staring at Dianne for several minutes, Christina thought that there was going to be a fight any minute. Glaring, Lisa said, "Fine bring him in, but I'll lock him up where I want him." "Fine," said Dianne smugly. She swished into the room with a superior GHP-air and pointed to the corner where she wanted Christina to dump Screed. Huffing and puffing, Christina dragged him into the room and propped him up in the corner. Before leaving, Dianne turned to Lisa with a smile and said, "Of course, we'll reimburse you for the inconvenience of storing him." With a slam of the door, they were gone. Lisa stood there staring off into space for a few minutes, contemplating this new wrinkle. Then, a wicked grin began to form on her face. She remembered that the worker's foreman had mentioned that they had mistakenly broken into the sewer at the end of one of the side tunnels. She turned and walked to the utility/storage room and pulled out a wheelbarrel. Once picking up Screed and dumping him into it, she punched in the door code, allowed the scanner to read her handprint, and used her key to unlock the door leading out into the tunnels. After around fifteen minutes of navigating through the twisting and turning tunnels, she arrived at the broken sewer wall. She contemplated Screed for a moment and almost changed her mind. She almost felt sorry for him. 'Afterall,' she thought to herself, 'the poor guy *was* just dug up. Maybe I should be nice to him.' She laughed out loud at that thought. 'Yeah, sure Lee, nice to a hungry vampire. Good plan.' With a smirk on her face, she pushed him through to the sewer. After checking to make sure that he was still fast asleep, she ran back to her storage room, scanned the shelves of bottled blood. It was a good thing she had planned ahead. She knew that some of her employers would want her to deal with the vampires and she'd rather they had something to drink before they considered her neck. To that end, she had gone to the trouble of getting several different kinds of blood: rat, cow, human, she had even located a crate of Lacroix's Special Stock that had been sitting untouched in the alley behind the Raven. Grabbing three bottles of rat blood, a piece of paper and a pen, she ran back to where she had left Screed. Sticking her upper body through the whole in the wall, she placed the bottles by his hand. Then, she sat down in the tunnel to pen her note: Dear Screed: I know you're probably hungry, so I've left you a couple of bottles of blood. I hope you don't mind that I couldn't sit and wait for you to wake up. I trust that since you're back in your home, you'll be very comfortable. If you need anything, feel free to contact Dianne the GHP at Merc. Central. Your Friend, Mercenary Cousin Lisa Reaching back through the hole, she stuck the note in his pocket, trying not to breath too deeply when she was doing so. Knowing that having a vampire lurking down here in the tunnels could be hazardous to everyone's health, she grabbed some of the left over mortar and bricks and quickly filled in and double reinforced the hole leading to the sewer. Her work for the evening done, she hoped, Lisa headed out of the tunnels. Once back in her rooms, she plopped down in bed, still fully clothed and was asleep in seconds. &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& MONDAY, JULY 29th, 1996 &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& DOWN ONCE MORE by Cousin Erik LeBeau Time: midnight Place: somewhere underneath Toronto Map in one hand, and flashlight in the other, Erik made his way through the catacombs (OK, so they were just sewers, but allow me a little artistic license here) under the city of Toronto. However, he was noticing more and more that his map was either out-of-date or just generally inaccurate. In the past half-hour, he had already found three side tunnels that weren't on the map, and two dead-ends that were supposed to be functional. "I could use a guide. Someone who works down here on a regular basis and knows the sewers better than this map does," he muttered to himself as he discovered another sealed-off tunnel where the map showed a passageway. He leaned against the wall to look at the map and plan his next move. A rat scampered along, paying the masked figure no mind. Erik chuckled at the memory of Lestat's line from "Interview with the Vampire," "All I need to find you Louis, is to follow the corpses of rats." It was at that moment that he hatched a new plan. There *was* someone he could find who knew the sewers well. Screed! The problem was finding him. Maybe ... he checked his map. Sure enough, the place where Screed's home was filmed was indeed marked. He wondered if it was really his place. Well, he shrugged, he'd find out soon enough. Thirty-five minutes of walking later, he could hear the faint strains of Cockney drinking songs from the end of the tunnel. 'It's not a light, but it'll do,' he joked to himself as he walked a little closer, trying not to startle the sailor lurking just beyond. As nonthreateningly as possible, he stepped into the alcove Screed had made his own... And was instantly slammed against the wall, a very upset carouche at his throat. "Well, if that's the way you say hello, Screed, I'm not surprised nobody but Vachon hangs out with you." Screed's face twisted into confusion, and he eased the young man back to the ground. "'Ow'd you know me name?" Erik dusted himself off gingerly... no harm done. "I know rather a lot about you. I watch the show." The gold drained out of Screed's eyes. "Oh. You're one of those lot, then, are you? Who're you s'posed to be, anyway, the Phantom o' the bloody CN Tower?" "My name is Erik. And if by 'one of those lot,' you mean an FK fan, then yes, I am. And I need your help." "You come into me 'ome without so much as a by-your-leave and ask me for 'elp? I don't know you; never seen you; and what makes you think ol' Screed *can* 'elp you. Not that I will or anything." "You know the sewers better than anyone. I need a tour." "*You* want *me* to waste my night showing you 'round me pad so you can do who-knows-what down 'ere?" Erik shrugged. "Basically, yeah." Screed looked around. "Well, seeing as me ... soc-i-al calendar don't seem to be filled at the moment, let's go." By the time the sun was just ready to come up, Erik knew the underground location of every opposing faction, as well as entrances and exits hidden throughout the city, so that he was never more than a couple of minutes from sanctuary in the underground maze. He thanked his guide profusely and agreed to "not be such a bloody stranger, mate." Erik emerged from the sewers a mere block away from CERK, as opposed to the twenty minute hike he had originally undergone to get into them. Everything was in readiness now. Phase Two would begin soon. He grinned an Evil Cousinly Grin(tm) and rubbed his hands together as he walked back to rejoin the remainder of the Cousins. &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& THE VAMPIRE SEX BAR (1/2) by Jane Credland (with input from Tami, Tara, Catherine, Felicia and Cynthia) Time: approx. 10:30pm) Place: Sanctuary on Queen Street West Two cabs pulled up from opposite directions in front of Sanctuary -- Toronto's own vampire sex bar. The doors of the first one opened and Raven/ettes spilled elegantly out onto the sidewalk. Then the doors to the second one opened and Jane crawled out. She had tried to spill out elegantly, but hadn't been a Raven long enough to get the hang of it. To make matters worse, she followed this by hauling on her dress as she stood up, trying to pull it down. She had no idea how it had managed to twist itself around in such a quick cab ride. The dress was supposed to be short, but this was ridiculous. Cynthia slid out behind her and smiled wickedly. "Need some help?" "I'm fine. Just fine." Jane snapped, aggravated by her inability to get the darned thing straight. Dressing in full Raven/ette style had seemed like such a good idea the other day, when Catherine, Felicia and Tami had dragged her with them to check out Madam Strang's House of Ill-Repute. Cynthia shrugged and moved away to join the rest of the group. "Suit yourself. You were the one who wanted to get all dressed up, remember. You could have just worn black jeans like me." "It's a goth bar ... even if it is a low budget one. And I've always wanted to dress up in full goth style." Jane muttered to herself as she finally got the clinging black velvet to hang the way it was supposed to. Heaving a sigh of relief, she hastened over to the others. "What happened to the two of you? We waited as long as we could, then decided to follow Tara's advice and meet you here." Tami stuck her hands on her hips and glared at them. Unfortunately, the effect was spoiled by the grin on her face. Cynthia responded edgily, "We went to see the Brabant exhibit at the Museum. I wanted to see Garden of Delights. And I needed to get out of the Raven and away from Janette." "Shall we go in?" Jane changed the subject before Cynthia could start ranting about the unfair demands of a certain female vampire. "This is the place?" Tara eyed the grungy bouncer suspiciously. Dressed in a black t-shirt with the Sanctuary logo, torn jeans (definitely from wear not fashionably ripped) and scuffed biker boots, he bore no resemblance to the classier gentlemen who had once stood guard outside the doors of the Raven. "This is it." Catherine brushed imaginary lint off her little black dress, and tucked her duck-headed, magenta-coloured umbrella firmly under her arm -- the weather forecast called for rain and she wasn't taking any chances that it would turn her hair into a bedraggled mess. "We warned you it wasn't in the same league as the Raven." "Is that what I think it is?" Lana took a step backwards and pointed at the doorway. The skirt of her 40's style dress swung attractively as she moved. "What?" Tami followed the direction of Lana's finger with her eyes. Lana's voice shook with outrage. "There's a cross hanging over the door. That... that's...." She floundered, unable to find the right words. "A bit odd for a bar where vampires hang out." Felicia finished helpfully. "Then again, they probably have their own entrance in the back." "I don't know about this." Lana said doubtfully. "This might not have been such a good idea." Felicia grabbed Lana's arm and pulled her in the same direction as everyone else. "Come on. It'll be fine. We'll take care of you." With Catherine, Jane and Cynthia taking the lead, the Raven/ettes ignored the short lineup and walked towards the entrance. When they got close, the bouncer put a thickly muscled arm out and barred their way. With a sneer, he pointed to the back of the line. Catherine and Jane exchanged glances. Now what? They hadn't had any problems getting in last time ... and that had been a Saturday night. "Janette sent us." Tara pushed forward. "Janette DuCharme from the Raven. She said the owner would let us right in." "Janet sent you, huh? Izzat s'posed to mean somethin'." "*Janette*. Her name is *Janette*." Tara growled. "Alright. No need to get all uptight, eh. Lemme check." The bouncer got a tattered, handwritten list from his back pocket and checked it carefully, mouthing the words as he read. Eventually, he dropped his arm and said grudgingly, "She's on the list. I guess it's okay to let you in." Inside it became increasingly obvious that Sanctuary was no Raven. The walls and ceiling were decorated in early industrial, to match the music which pounded from the dance floor. The club was very dimly lit, with almost all the light provided by the fixtures over the two pool tables which had pride of place in the middle of the floor. The patrons ranged from pvc, leather and velvet clad goths to shaven-headed grungies with their barely clad girlfriends. Most of them were so pale that it was nearly impossible to tell mortal from vampire. Tami and Cynthia moved forward to grab a large table that was being vacated by a group of slumming suburbanites, instantly recognizable -- and rendered completely out of place -- by their Gap attire. The Raven/ettes filled the bench and the chairs, and sat quietly for a few minutes, looking around. Jane thought. It certainly looked like her, and that was definitely the dress that Lil was showing off when she and Cynthia were visiting her in Chicago. Jane squinted, but as soon as she tried to focus on Lillian, she faded into the background and disappeared. "Interesting place." Tami played with the caduceus that hid among the ruffles of her burgundy poet shirt. "I can see Vachon fitting in perfectly, but I'm not so sure about Miklos." "I need a drink." Lana leaned back into bench. "Service is slow around here. How long does it take for a waitperson to get here?" "Umm ... they don't actually have table service here." Jane swung her leg. She was stuck between Lana and Cynthia. There wasn't enough room to sit cross-legged, and she could never get comfortable sitting in any of the usual positions. "We have to get our own drinks." "Oooh. Look!" Catherine spotted a couple of goths with long black hair, poet shirts (one in black, the other white) and kilts. She sighed happily, "Men in kilts, and with great legs too. Don't you just love them." "Not particularly." Cynthia slammed one hand down on Jane's leg to keep it still. "So, who's going to the bar?" "I'll go, but not by myself." Tara pushed her chair back a little. "I'll come. What does everyone want?" Jane removed Cynthia's hand and squeezed between her and the table. "A cherry coke, please." Lana jumped in. Tami thought briefly. "Absolut vodka with a twist." "Ginger ale. In a sealed bottle. If they don't have that, then mineral water, as long as the bottle hasn't been opened." Cynthia pulled out her inhaler, thinking that coming to a bar might not have been the best idea. She still hadn't recovered from all the cleaning solutions at the Raven; there wasn't a lot of smoke at Sanctuary, but there was enough to bother her. "One of *them*. Preferably the one in the black shirt." Catherine smiled back at her chosen prey. The two men conferred briefly, then one of them wound his way over to the Raven/ette table, stopping between Catherine and Felicia. "Hi. My friend and I were wondering if you and your friend would like to dance." "Of course we would." Felicia stood up before Catherine could say anything. "Wouldn't we, Catherine?" "Sure. Why not." As Catherine and Felicia disappeared in the direction of the dance floor, flanked by their new "friends", Jane and Tara walked over to the bar. Tara used her elbows and pushed rapidly through the crowds to the front. "What'll it be ladies?" The bartender definitely wasn't Miklos. He was also the first goth they'd seen with a tan. Golden brown skin and black curly chest hair peeked through his Dr. Frankenfurter lace-up corset. "Absolut with a twist, a diet coke, a ginger ale in an unopened bottle or can ... Tara, what're you having?" "Gin and tonic. Oh, and don't forget the cherry coke." "A cherry coke?" The bartender repeated disbelievingly. "Someone comes to a place like this and wants a cherry coke?" "Yes, a cherry coke. Is there a problem?" Tara leaned against the bar. "No problem. None at all." He hummed with amusement as he got the drinks together. Tara grabbed her, Lana and Tami's drinks while Jane paid. "I'll see you back at the table." "Sure." Jane was shoved back against the bar and the change grabbed from her hand before she could close it. Noxious fumes reminiscent of the sewers made her eyes water. "I fink that lolly's mine, girly-wirly. That and more of the pretty polly. You niver paid up what you owed for 'elping you 'unt down the ol' gen'ral. No-one, breather or vamp, gets away with shivin' old Screed." &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& THE VAMPIRE SEX BAR (2/2) by Jane Credland (with help from Tara and Cynthia) Time: just after 11 pm Place: Sanctuary on Queen Street West Tara looked back over her shoulder when she heard Jane's squawk of surprise. She recognized the bald headed vampire immediately. Hesitating for a moment, she decided that discretion was the better part of valour -- not to mention that four Raven/ettes were more intimidating than one -- and hurried back to the table. "Thanks." Tami grabbed her drink from Tara before she could open her mouth. "So, did the bartender know anything about Miklos?" "Uhh ... I forgot to ask." Tara craned her neck, but couldn't see the bar from the Raven/ette table. "I think we might have a slight problem." "Problem?" Cynthia leaned forward and followed Tara's gaze. "What kind of problem? And where's Jane?" ******* Around the corner, the object of Cynthia's inquiry smashed the heel of her shoe into Screed's foot. "Ow. Damn it! That hurt!" Jane shook her foot carefully, and re-thought the concept of stiletto heeled shoes. They might kill her toes, but they definitely did more damage than the low ones she normally wore. "Quit yer crarkin'. I haven't done owt to you yet." Screed got a better grip on Jane's arm and dragged her over to a dark corner at the end of the bar. "An' if yer've got any mozges upstairs, I won't." "What do you want?" She pulled her arm free and rubbed the marks left behind by the carouche's fingers. "Me green. What you owes me fer takin' you and yer pally-wallies gallivanting through t'tunnels last year." "Gallivanting? Tunnels?" So much had happened in the last five or six months that it took Jane a moment to remember back to the past year. "You mean the search for Lacroix. I thought ... you know, you're right. We never did pay you the second half of your money." Screed growled and leaned over Jane, baring his fangs. ******* "Where. Is. Jane?" Cynthia growled, repeating her question slowly. Her temper flared back up again -- she still hadn't calmed down from the confrontation with Janette a few hours earlier. Tara gulped her drink and tried once more to answer. "Screed..." "Screed? What does he have to do with this?" Tami broke in, hoping to defuse the situation before Cynthia lost her notoriously short temper again. "I saw him slam Jane back against the bar. He looked really angry. I couldn't hear what he was saying over the...." "He what?" Cynthia exploded, obscuring the rest of Tara's sentence. "I'll stake the ratlover." Tami reached out and pushed Cynthia back into her seat. "Hold on. You're not going to help matters by running over there unprepared. Besides, you know Jane won't appreciate being treated like a damsel in distress." Grumbling and cursing incoherently, Cynthia settled back down reluctantly. "Now." Tami continued, "What we need is a plan and to gather up Catherine and Felicia." "They're not going to appreciate that." Lana rummaged through her capacious yet stylish bag. "Ah, there it is. Here. That should help even the odds." She yanked out a thick, sharp wooden stake and thrust it at Cynthia. "Thanks." Cynthia got up from the table, hefting the stake to test its not-inconsiderable weight. "Why don't you guys go get Cath and Felicia. I'm going to have a chat with a carouche." *** "Look. Can't we work something out?" Jane shrank a little closer to the wall. Screed's breath definitely hadn't improved during his sojourn under the earth. "Mebbe." The carouche looked at Jane speculatively. "Else I could just chomp yer malenky neck and fergit the whole kit'ncaboodle. Betcher krovvy tastes sweet ... like cinnymon." Reaching up instinctively to put one hand over her neck, Jane tried to come up with a solution that would be acceptable to an angry and greedy carouche -- not easy to do when that same carouche was leaning over her, threatening to drain her dry. "Need some help, sweetie?" Cynthia held the stake in one hand, slapping the side of the pointed end against the palm of her other hand. "Oo'er you?" Screed peered over at the newcomer. He'd thought the mortal was alone. He hadn't anticipated her having help. Cynthia smiled wickedly. "Your worst nightmare." Taking advantage of Screed's distraction, Jane shoved him out of the way and moved to stand beside her partner. "He's not worth the trouble, love. All he wants is to get paid for some work he did for me last September." "You didn't pay him?" Cynthia asked. Jane pushed her hair out of her eyes. "I was planning to. I even had the money for it. But you know how abruptly the search for Lacroix ended. And then I heard that Screed was dead, so I forgot all about it." "How much do you owe him?" "Four 'undred big ones." Screed said helpfully. "Plus innerest and an appypolly loggy." "A what?" Cynthia usually didn't have a problem understanding Screed, but every once in a while.... "Four hundred dollars, plus interest and an apology." Jane translated. "I have the money in the bank, but we need every penny we've got right now." "How about trade?" Cynthia stated, still toying with the stake. "Like what?" Screed narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "An' why would I trust that git again? I'm not bloody barmy." "Yes. Like what?" Jane hissed. "Whatever he wants. You're trying to clear stuff out of your apartment, right? Why not let Screed have first choice?" Cynthia coughed. Some idiot at the bar was smoking. She needed her inhaler, but wasn't about to drop the stake in order to get it from her fanny pack. "Sure." Jane looked at Cynthia. She knew exactly what that cough meant. "Look Screed, how would you like a nice diamond ring. Pear- shaped solitaire, almost a full carat, with four smaller diamonds on either side. Would that be enough?" Screed nodded. This had not turned out to be as much fun as he'd thought it would be. And now there were a bunch more of them coming. He backed away as Tami, Lana, Tara, Catherine and Felicia took up positions behind Jane and Cynthia. "Where do you want it delivered?" Jane clutched Cynthia's arm as her leg muscles collapsed in relief. "Merc 'eadquarters. Send it t'Johnny boy." "Johnny boy? You mean John Ewan? Okay. No problem. I'll have it delivered tomorrow morning." ******* The next morning, a small package was delivered by Network Couriers to Merc Headquarters. John Ewan opened it curiously. Inside was a blue velvet box containing a diamond ring. He read the enclosed note and smiled. All he had to do was find out where to get the best price for this ring -- a simple matter for someone hanging around with Mercs. And Screed would love the apology. &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& TUESDAY, JULY 30th, 1996 &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& A DATE WITH SCREED by Lisa Prince Time: 7:00 a.m. Place: Merc Central Lisa was tossing and turning fitfully in her sleep. Vague, dark images flitted across her consciousness. Flashes of light illuminated strange faces before plunging her into darkness once again. Then, suddenly, directly in front of her appeared a face that she recognized. Awaking with a start, Lisa's eyes did an automatic sweep of her sleeping quarters. 'No Screed,' she thought to herself, vividly remembering the face in her dream. It was strange: ever since having her chart done and being told it revealed she should be psychic on some levels, these dreams started cropping up more and more. Of course, she had been freaking out her friends for years. Picking up the phone when they called, she would address them by name before they had a chance to say anything. She knew the dream could mean only one thing. She would be seeing Screed soon. Now, if she could only figure out if it was going to be a surprise on her part or his. Walking over to her stereo system, she popped in a CD called _Country Rainstorm_, then went and sat down in a nice comfy chair. Closing her eyes, she allowed the sounds of nature to wash over her, calming her mind and allowing the images of her dream to surface again. The images came quickly. She was somewhere high up looking down on chaos. People were running around everywhere, dressed in their pajamas as if they had suddenly been waken from a deep sleep. She didn't recognize any of the people, although some of them appeared remotely familiar. Then, suddenly, as before, Screed popped into view. That's when it hit. This dream was the enactment of the plans she had draw up for her next job. 'But what was Screed doing there,' she asked herself. Getting up, she flipped off the stereo and began pacing back and forth from one side of the room to the other. Her brow was furrowed and she kept mumbling to herself, 'Screed. Why Screed?' She suddenly stopped pacing, a slow, wicked grin beginning to form on her face. ******* Packing up the gear she would need, Lisa got ready for her journey into the sewers. She grabbed a couple of bottles of rat's blood from her stash, a flashlight, and some big empty jugs. Before leaving, she put her security system through its daily check-up, making sure that everything was still in working order. She double-checked the back-up generators and extra power supplies. Satisfied, she grabbed her backpack, gave one last glance at the screen for the cameras that watched the basement, and left her room. John and the Ratpack were no where to be seen, which was fine for now, but she would have to talk to him about her upcoming job very soon. She was surprised that the GHP and MMG still had no idea that John and his pack were living in the basement of Merc Central. Her current employer had told her to get all the help she needed. John and his furry, little friends would provide all the help she needed. She made her way across the basement into an empty utility room. After twisting and turning to get through the little access door with her backpack on, she walked through the tunnel, ignoring the various offshooting branches, until she reached the one that would let her into the sewers beneath the city. Going much further out of her way than she actually needed to in order to keep from going outside and allowing anyone to see that she was going to visit Screed, Lisa made her way back to the spot in the sewer where she had left Screed two nights ago. The empty bottle of blood lay intact where he must have dropped it. She glanced around and listened intently. There was no sign of the vampire, but she knew he was down here somewhere. It was dawn, afterall. Pulling one of the bottles of blood out of her backpack, she uncorked it and held it out in front of her. "Screed!" she called. "Hey, Screed? It's your friend Lisa. I thought you might be hungry so I brought you a little snack." She smelled him coming several seconds before he actually appeared in front of her. Watching the tunnel in front of her, she saw him running toward her at human speed. Grabbing the bottle from her hand, he smiled and winked at her before taking a swig. "Ain't I da pop'lar one. Tree visits 'n one day. Youse a malincky swee' thin' fer ringin' me dis. A scrappy lil'l apple," he said making conversation while he drank. "Apple?" she asked looking down at herself, "I always thought of myself more as a pear." Screed laughed and drop an arm around her while saying, "Ya' funny ta. What say ya' ta a lil'l rumbley-tumbley wit' ol' Screedy boy." It would be putting it mildly to say that Lisa was a little distressed at having Screed's arm around her. The scent coming from him was so strong that it made her eyes water, and she wondered whether or not she would ever get that smell out of her nose. Of course, the smell paled in comparison to what he was suggesting. As a matter of fact, the more she thought about it, the greener she got. Quickly trying to shake it off and regain control of the situation, Lisa replied while trying not to breath through her nose, "Aw' Screed," she squeezed his hand, "I'm really flattered, but I hardly know you and it just wouldn't be proper. Plus, technically, I'm partly one of LaCroix's and you know how uptight he gets about this sort of thing. I wouldn't want to put you in any danger." "Aw well, a figer'd as much, ya a malincky fin' lady, 'ut can't blame a fella' fer tryin'," Screed replied with a wink and a swig from the bottle. "So," he asked, "what brin' ya ta visit ol' Screedy?" "I was wondering about something," she said, "you seem to have this very distinct and interesting ... scent around here." "Ah, me colog," Screed answered nodding his head. "Ya wan' some?" "Actually, yes," she said with a sweet smile. He helped her up and she followed him off into the direction of his home. ******* An hour or so later, Lisa returned to her rooms with a loaded down backpack, minus a few bottles of rat blood. Everything went neatly back into the storage room. Then she went and sat at her computer console, grabbed a pencil and a notebook and began making more notes for her upcoming job. &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& THURSDAY, AUGUST 1st, 1996 &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& THE COTTON CANDY CAPER (1/3) by Lisa Prince (with input from Erin, Kira, Dawn & John. Permission from Laura (soulseeker) to use the N&NPackers at this time. Time: 2:00 am Place: Merc Central Lisa went searching for John and his Ratpack. According to their plans, he was supposed to meet her in the utility room with Screed and the Ratpack. Ducking into the darkened utility room, Lisa was brought to a rather abrupt halt. The odor in the room brought stinging tears to her eyes. she thought to herself, Plastering a smile to her face, she flipped on the light switch. The sight that greeted her was enough to make an average person think that they had stepped into a really bad horror film. There were rats everywhere. They swarmed over the floors and walls. The ceiling was thick with them and there were a few hanging precariously from the light fixture right above Lisa's head. she thought to herself. In the center of the room were two human figures entirely covered by rats except for their faces. John smiled happily at Lisa. Screed walked up to her with his customary wink and grin, and then placed a disgustingly slobbery kiss on her hand. She was thrilled that he had chosen her hand rather than her cheek, or God-forbid, her lips *shudder*. Lisa shuffled forward, attempting not to squash any of John's little friends. She was a bit of an animal rights fanatic and as such would do just about anything to avoid hurting an animal, even if it happened to be a rat. Reaching John, she said with a smile, "I'm really glad that you both were available to help out." Ya', ahun, yup, yup," John replied with a nod, while Screed said, "Yah, fun for Screedy. Les' go fer i' buby-cacks." Raising an eyebrow just like LaCroix was wont to do in situations like this, she asked John, "You're sure your little friends are going to be able to pull this off." "Definitely," John said. Looking around at the assembled masses, he grabbed Lisa's arm and said, "Here, let me introduce you to everyone." "That's Anthony, Amy, Albert, Alfonzo, Anna, Andrea, Alexander and Alexandra, they're twins, and that Antonio, Addy, Agatha ..." John said in rapid suscesion as he pointed to various little critters. After glancing around at the multitude of rats, Lisa groaned inwardly. she thought to herself. Outloud, she asked, "Maybe you could introduce them to me as we go? We've got some people waiting." "Okay," John replied happily and resumed, "that's Barbara, Barry, Bartholomew, Beetlejuice, Bob and Bob and Bob, Bill, Betty, Boopster ..." John kept a running commentary of names going as the trio and the pack walked back to Lisa's quarters. Not wanting to have several thousand rats hanging out in her room, Lisa asked, "Since it's going to be kind of tight in there with all those people, maybe we should have the pack wait in the hall for you." Screed replied, "Righto, matey," and gave her a brotherly punch in the arm. John just kept pointing out and introducing his little rat friends. "Cathy, Christie, Charles, Chucky, Christopher, Callie, Crystal, Chester ..." Lisa could see the Mercs that she had gotten to help with this job waiting for her in front of her door. Picking up the pace of her steps while still avoiding squashing anyone, she rushed to meet them. Hurrying to keep from falling behind, John called out even faster, "Darryl, Doug, Dorothy, Dagmar, Dogbert, Deborah ..." Seeing the group approach, the assembled Mercs edged a little closer together. Erin leaned over to Kira and whispered, "She wasn't kidding when she said you had better not have a problem with rats if you wanted this job." "I thought we were going to be doing something that might require running into a few rats, but this is kind of ridiculous," Kira replied. "Shhhhh," Dawn snapped. "They're going to hear you, and I, personally, would rather not have a couple of thousand rats mad at me." While this conversation was going on, Berg had leaned down to pick up a couple of the little fellows and was talking to them while scratching their ears. Sensing a fellow rat-lover, John latched onto Berg, pointed at the rats in his hand and said, "That's Electra, Egor, and Elton." Beginning to point to the rats surrounding them, he said, "That's Frank, Freda, Francine, Francesca, Fred, Fluffernutter, Farfagnugan, Frankenfurter ..." Unlocking the door, Lisa ushered her guests inside. "John? John! JOHN!!!!" The Ratpacker looked up quickly with a rather blank look on his face and asked, "Wha'?" "Would you and Berg like to join us to go over the plans or would you like me to find another pack of rats to do this job?" she snapped. she thought to herself as she turned and headed into the main room of her suite. "Remember," she called over her shoulder, "the little guys need to wait out here." John bent down to talk to his troops for a minute, Berg put down his new found friends and went to join the others. John followed quickly. Walking into the room where the others were waiting, Lisa found Screed discussing the rumbley-tumbley with Kira, Dawn, and Erin. The trio looked decidedly uncomfortable. Kira actually looked as if she was about to toss her cookies. Dawn and Erin were just staring at him as if he were something gross stuck to the bottom of their shoes. Lisa decided to save them all from Screed's running commentary. Biting back a laugh, she said, "Thank you all for being so prompt. I assume everyone knows each other? Just in case, that's Kira, Dawn, Erin, Berg, John, Screed, and the Ratpack is waiting in the hallway." As she turned towards the board were the plans were laid out, a flash of something bright caught her eye. Turning to Erin with frown, she asked, "Are those ... flourscent ... pink ... socks?" Erin flushed bright red and stammered, "Well ... they ... they ... they stole all our socks and by the time I got to the store to get some replacements this was all they had left." "They *stole* your socks?" Lisa asked incredulously. "Why on Earth would someone want to steal your socks? Undies I can understand, but socks? Oh, forget it, I don't think I really want to know." With a sigh Lisa grabbed several packages, one for each Mercenary. After showing everyone proof that payment would be forecoming at the end of the job -- a certificate for discounts on moving expenses for Dawn; a case of Sno-Balls for Erin; a black, long-haired, Lab/Chow puppy safely entrenched in a box for Kira; a gift certificate to the Merc Chocolate Shoppe for Berg; a couple of bottles of rat blood for Screed; and an autographed picture of the KISS guys signed to Kathy for John, his wife really just loved those guys; Lisa got down to the business planned for the night. "Okay," she said, "here's what we're going to do...." &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& THE COTTON CANDY CAPER (2/3) by Lisa Prince Time: 2:30am Place: The Merc Van, driving down the streets of Toronto. After briefing everyone on their roles for the night, Lisa had sent Screed and John with the Ratpack. They would travel to the rendevouz point by way of the sewers. There was just no other way to get that many rats to the house without attracting a lot of unwanted attention. She wasn't a modern day Pied Piper afterall. Just like before any job, Lisa's mind went through the details over and over again. She sat in the passenger seat of the van trying desperately to make sure that nothing was forgotten, no important point missed, no requirement of the job undone. Berg drove as quickly as the speed limit would allow. They didn't want to get pulled over for speeding, especially considering the nature of their cargo. Kira, Dawn, and Erin were in the back making sure that all the equipment was in working order and also keeping an eye on the huge pink roll that was strapped to the top of the van. Their eyes were continually drawn to the roll. It was *huge*. They could not imagine that they would actually make it to their destination without attracting police attention. Lisa had assured them that the Toronto P.D. were not going to be concerned with a van that was hauling what appeared to be insulation. Looking over at Lisa, Kira asked, "If you don't mind my asking ... where exactly did you get all of this cotton candy?" Brought back to the present by the question, Lisa looked back at Kira with a wicked grin and said, "You really don't want to know. But, let's just say that there are several establishments in Toronto that are going to be short on refreshments tomorrow." "Ummm," mumbled Dawn, "what's in the tank with the sprinklers?" "*That*," Lisa replied while cackling evilly, "is our secret weapon. It's the latest rage in perfume. Just don't forget to bring your gas masks out there with you." Turning to Berg, she said, "That's it just up ahead. Pull over here." &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& THE COTTON CANDY CAPER (3/3) by Lisa Prince Time: approx. 2:45am Place: Susan's house The group sitting inside the parked van was getting a little nervous. Being Mercs, they really didn't like to wait, and they had been waiting for at least 5 minutes and there was still no sign of Screed, John, and the Ratpack. "Maybe they got lost," whispered Erin as the minutes continued to tick by. "No," Lisa replied, "they have detailed maps and directions through the sewer to this place. There's no way that they could have gotten lost." Just then, loud, horrific singing erupted from the sewer grate right next to the van. Berg jumped out of the driver's side door, looked down into the sewer grate and shouted, "Shut up! Do you want them to hear you?!?" The women in the van stared at him in annoyance and quite a bit of trepidation. Lisa smacked her hand to her forehead and said in an angst-ridden, whiny voice, "I don't *believe* this. Why don't we just start waving a sign saying, 'Suspicious characters here, please arrest us.'" Meanwhile, Kira had jumped out of the van grabbed Berg, placed a hand over his mouth and yanked him back inside the van. Searching the houses along the street, she turned to Lisa and said, "All clear, no lights flipped on." "Well," Lisa replied, "if these people are anything like my mother, they're standing behind their curtains, peeking through, with the lights off. Let's give it a few minutes." So, at approximately 3:00 a.m., the team slinked quietly out of the van, moved over to the sewer grate and motioned for the rest of their helpers to come up. Lisa thought she heard a mumbled "Abut rumpy-bumpy tim'" float up from the recesses of the sewer as the grate was shoved to the side and John, Screed and the rats poured forth. Going around to the back of the van, Lisa pulled out the headsets which would keep the team in contact with each other through the entire operation. The first thing that Screed wanted to know was whether or not he would get to keep his -- definite pawn shop material. After being assured that he could do whatever he wanted with it as long as the job went off without a hitch, Screed was happily playing with the little device. Lisa shook her head at the child-like glee that Screed exhibited with his new toy and then began pulling long lengths of wire cable and various devices out of the van. Each time she pulled something out, one of the team would come forward grab it, make sure it was in working order, and hook it onto their mercenary uniforms. Because she couldn't get it out all by herself, everyone climbed into the van and worked to get the huge vat of cologne out. Unfortunately, the lid opened slightly as they worked. The inside of the van erupted with coughing and swearing. "Ewwww," Erin groaned. "Grossssss," Dawn complained. "*What* is that *smell*?!?" Berg bellowed. Lisa hurried to reseal the lid. Looking around at the assembled party, she said solemnly, "I think now might be a good time to double-check your gas masks." Each put on their mask and then opened the vat and took a deep breath. Since now of them reacted, it was obvious that the masks were working properly. So, they closed up the vat and put their masks away for when they would need them later. While the Mercs were busy doing that, Lisa talked quietly with Screed and John about what she wanted them and the rats to do. Once everyone was rigged up and geared properly, Lisa pointed everyone in the right direction and the team went to work. Kira and Dawn were each sent to a telephone pole -- luckily the house was placed in such a way that there was a telephone pole by each corner of the front yard. Using those funny little things that strapped around the pole and their bodies, each Merc shimmied quickly up to the top of the poles. Meanwhile, Screed picked up Berg and Erin and deposited them on the roof. The pair quickly connected the giant eyehole screws to the edge of the roof with super-quick-drying-cement. Once that was done, they waited. The Mercs on the telephone poles brought out the long length of wire that Lisa had provided for them, they wrapped one end around the top of the poles and secured them, then each gave an end to Screed so that he could run the cable over to the roof of the house where Berg and Erin were waiting. On the ground, John and Lisa were struggling to bring the huge roll of cotton candy over to the yard. Though they tried their best to keep it from getting all over them, by the time they had it positioned in front of the house and ready for Screed to roll out along the wires, they were covered from head to toe in little tufts of cotton candy. Screed had finished carrying the wire to the Mercs on the roof, so he returned to were John and Lisa were waiting with the cotton candy. "Wha' yew wan's me ta da wit' dat agin?" Screed asked. Lisa replied, "Carry it up to the wires, lay it across them like a big bed roll and then unroll it until you hit the roof." Screed grabbed the cotton candy and did as he had been instructed. While he was back by the roof, he grabbed Berg and Erin and deposited them on the sidewalk by Lisa and John. Each carried a small remote control that they would use to detonate a charge that would destroy the clamps holding the wires up and allow the cotton candy to fall onto their prey. Kira and Dawn had climbed down from the poles by this time and were picking pieces of cotton candy off of John and Lisa. Of course, it was extremely sticky stuff, so each time they took a swab of it off, they would have to flick their hands and fingers around trying to get it off of themselves. Unable to restrain herself, Erin reached out and grabbed a puff that was sitting on the end of Lisa's nose. She popped the piece into her mouth. "I just love cotton candy. Yummy," she said with a smile as she closed her eyes and rubbed her tummy. Looking up, Erin realized that Lisa was being restrained by Kira and Dawn. At that point, she decided it might be better if she didn't mention her love of cotton candy for a while. Lisa shook off the restraining Mercs and said, "I'm all right. I'm all right. Now, that N&NPacker guard is obviously snoozing. I was watching her through the night vision goggles and she hasn't moved an inch since we got here. That along with the open book on her lap leads me to believe that she's been reading that sappy garbage poetry these N&NPackers like so much and dozed off. I do believe it's time to wake them up." The group began to cackle wickedly as John loosed his Ratpack. Hearing the alarms start to sound almost immediately, the team of Mercs backed off a bit to watch and wait for the ensuing chaos. Lisa nodded to Dawn who took off at a run along the side of the yard. Lisa watched as Dawn took up a position that would allow her to sneak unnoticed into the front door of the N&NPacker's place when they came running out. ******* Inside of the N&NPackers place, Kelly was running from monitor to monitor screaming, "We're under attack! Alarm! Alarm! We're under attack! Help! Somebody! Help!" Within seconds, a large group of N&NPackers had formed. All were wearing their pajamas and looked extremely unhappy at having been so rudely awakened. Laura stumbled into the room and said, "What, for the love of Nick and Natalie, is going on?" "I don't know," sobbed Kelly, "I was on guard duty just like I was supposed to be and then all of a sudden everything went crazy." Taking a look at the book in Kelly's hand, Laura gave her a stern glare and mumbled sarcastically, "Umhm, I'm sure." "Look!" Idalia said, "the heat and motion sensors are going nuts. There's a bunch of people out there." Then, in a flash, the monitors went dead. "Come on," shouted Tina, "let's check it out! Nobody attacks us and gets away with it." "Yeah," agreed Kris, "they're going to get away! Hurry up!" With that, the N&NPackers raced out the door and into the front yard. ******* While the N&NPackers were being so rudely awakened, John was being placed in a harness that Screed would use to suspend him above the N&NPackers and spray them with the cologne. "Hurry up," Lisa hissed, "we'll only get one chance at this. Everyone, masks on NOW!" Kira and Erin were positively bouncing with glee waiting for the mayhem to begin. They reached for their masks as they bounced. With a huge smile on her face, Erin turned to Lisa and said, "This is great. I would have done this for nothing." Looking shocked, Lisa replied, "Don't say things like that. The Merc Mommy General wouldn't like that." Putting on her gas mask, Lisa turned her attention back to the scene that was about to unfold in front of her. With chagrin, Erin said, "Sorry, I'm still kind of new at all of this," and then put on her gas mask and began rubbing her hands together in anticipation. Just as Screed and John were settled in and rising above the canopy of cotton candy, the N&NPackers exploded out of their front door and onto the lawn. Soon as they cleared the door, Dawn dashed inside. "Now!" Lisa shouted as loudly as possible to Berg and Erin. Trying to make herself heard though the gas masks which had an the annoying side-effect of obscuring voice and hearing. With simultaneous miniature explosions, the cotton candy dropped like a quilt onto the N&NPackers. ******* "Hey!" said Laura who's voice was muffled by the blanket of pink cotton candy, "who turned out the lights?" All around her, her fellow N&NPackers were thrashing about trying to work their way out from under the two foot thick covering of cotton candy. But, before they had a chance to regroup, Screed and John began pumping out Ode de Screed cologne. The pungent cologne rained over the cotton candy and onto the N&NPackers. The extra liquid caused the candy to melt quicker then it would have otherwise, so before long the N&NPackers were covered in a pink, gooey, smelly mess. ******* After snapping a few pictures with a Polaroid to give to her boss, Lisa gathered up the laughing, gas-mask protected, Mercs and headed back to the van. Glancing behind her to check for Dawn, Lisa was relieved to see her dashing as quickly as possible over the cotton candy-covered yard while attempting not to step on any of the big pink covered humps that indicated a N&NPacker. Once back in the van and de-masked, Dawn caught her breath enough to ask, "How long does that cologne last?" With a wicked grin that looked entirely too ridiculous considering the fact that she was still fairly well covered in cotton candy, Lisa replied, "Oh, only for around a day or two." Then, Lisa leaned over and whispered to Dawn, "Did you get it?" With a grin, Dawn flashed the little card at Lisa before shoving it back in her pocket. Patting the back of the driver's seat, Lisa said to Berg, "Let's go, we're out of here." As they pulled up to Merc Central and headed inside, the group was still laughing. Those Mercs who were hanging out in the main room wanted to know what was so funny, so the group spent the next hour repeating the story of their job against the N&NPackers to anyone who was interested in listening. In the midst of all the merriment, nobody noticed when Lisa slipped out of the room. She went down into the basement to wait for the arrival of Screed, John, and the Ratpack. She had to make sure that all of her people had made it before she would be willing to relax. She sat there absent-mindedly pulling pieces of cotton candy off of her clothing as she waited. Shortly, John and Screed popped in through the utility room entrance, gave her a wave to indicate that they were fine, and headed for John's room and who only knows what kind of mayhem. Smiling to herself, Lisa let herself into her room and headed straight for the shower. &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& WHAT IS THIS STUFF? (1/3) by Arletta Asbury (and the N&NPack) Time: 2:50am Place: Susan's house "What is it?" Jenn asked. "I don't know," Laura answered, "but it's gooey and smelly and yukky." She shivered in revulsion. But no one could see her shiver because, she like the rest of of them, was just a large pink lump on Susan's lawn. Arletta came to stand in the open doorway of the house. She alone among all the N&NPackers had remained indoors. Her bad back had prevented her from racing outside as fast as the others had done when the alarms had sounded. Because of her handicap, it took her much longer to climb out of bed, or out of her sleeping bag in this case, than the rest of them and because of that fact she stood looking out at an unbelievable sight. "Laura?" Arletta questioned. "Who's that?" Laura answered. "What happened?" "Never mind that! Help us!" "What do you want me to do?" Arletta asked. 'That was a very good question,' thought Laura. 'What could she do about this?' Finally Laura was able to stand up and clear enough of the goo out of her eyes to actually see again. She was almost sorry that she had. The sight was one she wouldn't soon forget. All of the N&NPackers (except for Arletta) were rising to their feet or else just trying to stand while covered with the most digusting goo imaginable. People were stumbling into each other because they couldn't see properly. Mel, her second in command, stumbled over to her side annd said, "What do we do now?" Laura shook her head and said, "I guess we try to clean up." Susan, whose guests they all were, headed for her front door and then stopped. "Wait a minute. We can't go inside now. This stuff would get all over my carpets, the walls, everywhere." "We have to take a shower, NOW! Never mind your carpets. Sheesh!" John remarked. "Hey, they're not YOUR carpets," Susan replied hotly. "Susan's right," Laura said, "but how can we clean up if we can't get to the shower?" Susan thought for a moment then replied, "There's a garden hose out back that's connected to an outside faucet. Maybe if we all rinse off, we'll leave the worst of it outside." "A garden hose connected to an outside faucet? That's COLD water," Kelly whimpered. "I think I'd keep quiet if I was you," warned Idalia. "Whose fault do you think all of this is, anyway?" "Come on," Susan said and led the way to the back yard and the COLD rinse. "Oh, a hot tub. I'd forgotten about that," Jenn said. "No you don't. This stuff would foul up the inner workings of it. You know the electronics and all the bubble making parts." "She's worried about the bubble making parts!" John said in a disgusted tone of voice. "No stay out of it, all of you. I have a plan and I think we'll need it intact. In fact, John why don't you start emptying it now. "What? Are you nuts?" he asked Laura. "Just do as I say." "Arletta! Where is she? Never around when you need her!" Laura grumbled. "Here I am," Arletta answered from the back doorway. She was trying real hard to surpress the giggles. This was too funny. But she knew if she started she'd never be able to stop. And the rest of them would NEVER speak to her again. "What do you want." "I want you to stop standing around and help! Go inside and find my purse. Take the money from my wallet. ALL of the money. Do the same with Mel's purse and any others that you can see." She turned to Susan and said, "Susan, where are your car keys?" "On the pegboard just inside the back door," she answered wondering where this was leading. Turning back to Arletta, Laura continued, "When you have the money, get the car keys. I want you to go shopping." "Shopping? Now?" "Yes, this smell isn't going to go away with a shower. I think we'll need tomato juice. LOTS of tomato juice." "Tomato juice?" Arletta asked. Then realization dawned. "How much tomato juice?" "As much as you can buy with our money. Enough to fill the hot tub," Laura answered. "But my hot tub!" Susan said. "Be Quiet!" Laura snapped. "Just do as I say, everyone, okay?" "Okay," Arletta said meekly. She was relieved to be away from the smell eminating from her fellow N&NPackers and promply hurried about her assigned task. Laura turned back to Susan. "Where's that garden hose? Let's get started on this." Just then the menagerie of dogs and cats brought by the N&NPackers discovered the door left open by Arletta. They ran happily outside and began sniffing each of them in turn. Not quite sure what to make of the funny smell most of the cats backed off. But the dogs sensed candy and started licking various people. "Ooh, yuk. Get away from me," Kris said to one of the dogs. "Inside," Susan commanded one of the dogs to no avail. Various N&NPackers began dodging the assorted dogs and began running in circles with the dogs chasing them. The dogs would have won but Susan finally turned on the water and began squirting both dogs and people with it. The dogs ran back into the house tracking muddy pawprints all over the floors. Susan screamed and started to run inside again but stopped in time as she realized that the dog's muddy pawprints were cleaner than she was at that moment. John picked up the garden hose that Susan had dropped and held it as each of the N&NPackers, in turn, received a VERY COLD shower from it. Most of them shrieked or screamed as the cold blast of water hit them but a few bore it stoicly in silence. This garden hose shower helped in that most of the excess goo was removed by it. Carrie, who was the first one thru it, headed inside for a hot shower in the bathroom. Mel who had been second thru the garden hose followed her indoors and headed for the second bathroom. Everyone else followed suit. Lining up inside for one or the other of the bathrooms with their blissfully hot showers. What seemed an eternity later, Kevin rapped on the door of the first bathroom and said, "What's taking you so long? Hey we're cold and wet out here and we need a shower too." "Not as cold as you'd be if you'd waited outside and spared my floors any further insult," Susan said looking at the rather large wet pools of liquid growing under each of her guests while standing in line. "Umm. I forgot clothes. Kevin, close your eyes," Kris said. "What? Oh, okay," Kevin said blushing. Kris emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a towel and made a dash for her duffel bag. She wasn't really clean, yet. But she was a lot cleaner than she had been a few minutes ago and couldn't stand around in a towel forever. Kevin was shoved into the bathroom by the next person in line and he too took his turn at the hot shower. When he was ready to emerge he asked the females to close their eyes as he made a mad dash for his suitcase. Actually someone was peeking but Kevin never noticed in his rapid towel wrapped streak past them. ******* About half of the N&NPackers had been thru the showers by the time Arletta returned with a car full of tomato juice in cans. Several of the N&NPackers carried the tomato juice cans over to the hot tub while Arletta went inside to fetch as many can openers as she could find. She returned to the others armed with only two openers. "That's all I could find," she said afraid. 'Everyone looked pretty mad by now. Especially at me. Just because I had remained unscathed everyone blamed their predicament on me,' she thought. Aloud she said, "maybe the neighbors have some I could borrow?" Just then the sound of sirens could be heard approaching. Everyone looked up and saw a police car heading their way. &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& WHAT IS THIS STUFF? (2/3) by Arletta Asbury (and the N&NPack) Time: 3:20am Place: Susan's house "Just be grateful the cops had a sense of humor," Laura said. "My neighbors," Susan said shaking her head. "Who would've thought that they'd call the cops just because they heard all that noise coming from my back yard." "Never mind," said Mel. "Just keep opening the cans." "I wonder how they'll write up their report," said Arletta who was standing as far away from her fellow N&NPackers as she could decently manage. Even outdoors and after their showers, the smell coming from the others was still overwhelming. "They did seem to enjoy the thought of a hot tub full of tomato juice," Arletta said, suppressing a giggle. The others just glared at her as they continued opening cans and pouring the contents into the hot tub. It was agonizingly slow with only two can openers. The idea of borrowing any others had been nixed by the cops who'd said leave the neighbors out of this. Aparently, they'd more than likely call the police in again if any one of Susan's guests approached them. They were already uncomfortable with the thought of her having so many house guests. But all that screaming and shrieking had totally freaked out the neighbors. And the N&NPackers were still ... rather smelly ... with a few traces of goo here and there. They were definately NOT the sort of visitors that Susan's neighbors would appreciate right now. Arletta had volunteered to go back to the store for more can openers but Laura had vetoed that idea, reasoning that they'd be finished opening the cans just about the time that she would return with more openers. Everyone had finished with their showers and they were just standing around waiting by the time the hot tub was finally filled enough to receive its first 'customers'. It was fortunate that the hot tub was not a big one because otherwise they couldn't have gotten enough tomato juice to fill it from a dozen stores. Arletta claimed that it had taken six stores to buy as much as she had. Unfortunately that also meant that only two people would fit into the hot tub at one time. This time John and Idalia were the first ones to try the new bathing experience. Idalia climb gingerly into it and tried to avoid getting her face wet. Jenn noticed that fact and instructed her and everyone else that they had to dunk completely -- head and all -- in order to get rid of the smell. Idalia took a deep breath and sunk below the surface for a few seconds before bobbing back up. John followed her example and did the same. "I think you need to stay in there for at least a couple of minutes for it to work," Mel offered. "Yeah," Laura agreed, "anyone got a watch?" "No, I left it inside with ..." someone began in answer. Just then Laura noticed Arletta's watch. "Arletta, come over here." "Um ... I didn't mention my allergies, did I?" Arletta began. "Cans didn't bother me ... but well.... It's mostly food allergies. Most pollen doesn't really bother me. Well ragweed, but who ISN'T allergic to that ... but...." "What are you rambling about," snapped Laura interrupting her in mid ramble, "get over here and start timing us!" "Ah ... allergies are tricky ... you can't really mess around with them and such a large amount. Skin absorts stuff anyway. And well I don't...." "Shut up, Arletta! And get over here," snapped someone else. "I'm trying to tell you ... my all time WORST allergy is.... "What?" "Tomatoes!" finished Arletta finally. "My worst allergy is tomatoes." Everyone groaned. A few N&NPackers started meaningly towards her. Arletta quickly took off her watch and threw it at the closest one as she said, "I think I'd better check into a motel for a couple of days. Just until all the tomato juice is gone." "How do you propose getting to a motel? You're not taking Susan's car and leaving us stranded here" "Maybe someone could call me a cab?" "You're a cab," answered Ray. "I think I can flag one down a couple of streets over," Arletta said as she fled. "Good riddance," Kris said, "her and her 'bad back' and allergies. Did anyone believe a word of that?" "No," mumbled quite a few people. "Never mind her," said Susan. "Just where do you think you're going?" she said to Idalia and John. They had climbed out of the hot tub and were about to go inside for another shower. This time it was to wash off the reside of tomato juice. "You're not going to drip tomato juice all over my floors now!" "What do you suggest.... Oh no," John said as he was hit by another blast of cold water from the garden hose. Finally when Susan was satisfied, John and Idalia raced for a hot shower indoors ... again. &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& WHAT IS THIS STUFF? (3/3) by Arletta Asbury (and the N&NPack) Time: 3:40am Place: Susan's house When John stepped out of the shower, he realized he'd made one critical mistake. There were no more towels. Susan's supply had long ago been exhausted. And John's knapsack was in another room. He stood, dripping wet, hiding very carefully behind the door as he opened it and peered around. Spotting Heather he said, "Clear a path for me, PLEASE. I'm coming thru ... um ... streaking!" "Huh?" Heather said and then understood. She cleared out fast. John made it to his knapsack unseen and hid in a convenient closet while he put on his last set of clean clothes. One set lay buried among all the goo covered ones and another set of his clothes lay forming the beginnings of a new pile of tomato juice covered items. When he emerged from the closet fully clothed, John realized just how really BAD the house smelled from the piles of goo and tomato covered clothes and from his fellow N&NPackers who hadn't yet had the 'full treatment'. He decided to head away from the others towards the front yard of the house. That turned out to be another BIG mistake. "Laura, Susan, could you come around to the front yard, please!" John yelled. Susan who had just entered the house said, "in a minute okay?" She surveyed the huge mound of incredibly disgusting clothes and wondered 'what next'. Heather reappeared and said to Susan, "I guess we'd better do laundry now, huh?" "Not in MY washing machine," Susan replied and she shuddered. "I'll drive some of you to the laundramat later." Susan then crossed the living room and stepped out the front door. She screamed and then nearly fainted. Her once beautiful lawn was now covered in pink goo ... except for a few green polka dots here and there where her fellow N&NPackers had been standing at the time IT happened. And the smell was indescribable. Susan realized that she'd been incredibly lucky her downwind neighbors had merely called the police. They could've lynched her! John and Laura were examining one of the goo covered sensors. "It's ruined," John said. "All of them need to be repaired or replaced. Electronic equipment just isn't meant to withstand gooey wet stuff." "Aren't there any left intact?" asked Laura. "Maybe one or two from the sides of the house but not enough to do any good and they're useless without the controller which is also ruined." "How long will it take to get everything back up and running?" questioned Laura "At least a day, maybe two." Laura sat down suddently, with her head in her hands. All the N&NPackers had depended on her. She had let them down. They were now defenseless against the next attack until the equipment and could be repaired and replaced. Then she realized that she was sitting on a goo covered front step. Now she'd have to go thru the cold shower/hot shower/tomato juice bath/cold shower/hot shower process all over again! "Somebody, just shoot me please," Laura said &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& RAT REVOLUTION by Tigon Diana Hooker Time: 2:35pm Place: Merc Central Timon did not have to search the tunnels far to find what the source of the rat-death stench. He landed outside the opening to the chamber from which the stench emitted, and crept slowly in. Inside were hundreds of living rats and one slumbering ... man ... for lack of a better word. Quite possibly the foulest smelling thing Timon had ever had the misfortune to smell. Contrary to popular myth, rats are actually quite fastiduous, and the little VampRat could not fathom how his brethren could tolerate this place. Reaching the outskirts of the pack of rats, he sqeaked an inquiry. The nearest rats looked blankly at him, their glazed eyes giving him the answer. He was a vampire, he knew a glamour when he saw one. His poor brethren was enthralled to stay amidst this stench, to be killed at the foul vampires whim. He began the process of releasing their minds, a far easier process for Timon than the man, since Timon knew the language, of course. Soon the sleeping Screed was surrounded by some very annoyed rats. Timon landed on the vampires chest, hoping he would be able to clean the stench off his little hands and feet eventually. He wiggled his whiskers and honked the beaklike nose. "Heera!" yelped Screed, jumping half up and tumbling Timon off his chest. He rubbed his nose vigorously, then noticed the ominous eyes of the rats surrounding him. "Hee than, wha's up wit ye lot?" The rats squeezed in a little closer. "Ya all be doin' the pushshoveys for the right to bein' ol' Screed's next gullet gusher then?" He reached for the nearest rat, only to have his hand viciously nipped. "Cor! Wha's up wit ye lot?" Timon flew up into Screed's face and began giving him whatfor in Rattese. Screed took one look at the little VampRat and realized his worse nightmare was coming true. &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& A CLOCKWORK RAT by Tigon Diana Hooker Time: 3:00pm Place: Merc Central Tigon leaned on her Shillelagh and enjoyed the sensation of Timon snuggling once more in his rightful place under her chin. After the Merc General had convinced her that she should save Screed (which Tigon still had doubts about) and Timon had sent the newly freed ratpack on its way, they had returned to the main part of Merc Central. Dianne was feeding crackers to Samantha and Berg while holding the box away from Lizbet's desperate grabs. "Must have crackers!" the diminutive merc repeated over and over. Lizbet tried to steal one of Berg's, only to have her nose honked. The Merc General stared aghast at the trio of rat-hynotised mercs. "Are you sure I can't let Lizbet have a cracker." Tigon, feeding a blood-soaked saltine to Timon, nodded. "Better not, she's been on a strict, no-carb diet since last Christmas." Avoiding a nose-honk, Dianne asked, "And you're sure the glamour will wear off?" "Eventually, depending on how susceptable their minds are." Tigon eyed the cracker-crazed Lizbet with an evil grin, "Of course, the cracker fetish seems to last forever, for some reason." That would teach Lizbet to inflict Lebanon baloney on the unsuspecting. Lizbet tried to honk Tigon's nose again, only to be once more thwarted, this time by the shillelagh across her knuckles. Sucking her injured hand, she seemed actually to come out of it, "Why on earth did you bring that, Tigon?" "Angelique's back," Tigon replied, referring to their Sybil-like friend and her vampire persona. "So?" "She's waxing poetic over LaCroix again. I thought it best to remove the shillelagh of suicide." Dianne admired the Irish club, "I have one myself." "Doesn't everybody?" Tigon puzzled. "Well, i's jus a fine-diddly-do thing..yer arrivin' when you did like," came Screed's voice from where he had been banished in a corner. Tigon winced and gritted her teeth. "I don't care what anybody says," she said, "I think Screed sounds more like Flanders on 'The Simpsons' than Malcolm McDowell in 'A Clockwork Orange.' "Tha's a fine diddly-do thing ta be saying about the ol' Screed man!" &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& SUNDAY, AUGUST 4th, 1996 &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& WHO'S STILL IN ARREARS? I AM! *I AM*! John Ewan Time: 10:00am Place: Merc Central John lugged in a large sack and set it on the floor beside Dianne's desk. "Yo, that nose-boinkin' ratvamp chased all my good li'l ratskis away. I'm donating what's left of the kibble as part of my rent." John adjusted his glasses, brushed his finger back and forth under his mustache and stood at parade rest. Dianne took a deep breath, glanced at the bag of rat food and said, "twenty-five cents." "A quarter a pound?!?" John cried, his Merc heart palpitating wildly, "That's only Five bucks! Nah, let's try a dollar a pound; that's twenty off what I owe. Or do I have to start figuring the hours of night watches those rats stood in the basement keepin' it safe...?" Dianne scowled. "No one has attacked us through the basement!" she said, in the most blood-chilling voice this side of mortality. John, as always, oblivious to imminent grave danger, smirked, "My point exactly! Superb defensive procedures, don't chya know." He stroked his goatee as he awaited her reply. Dianne took firm hold of the papers in her hand, and breathed in and out slowly. She knew it would not look good to kill a member of the Guild, at least not without being paid for it. That had to be against some part of the Charter. Dianne smiled, "You had about a thousand rats down there?" John grinned, "Yeppers! One thousand, seven hundred and twenty three, reported for duty, SIR!" and he snapped to attention and got off a fine, smart salute. Dianne blinked, then shook her head. She returned the salute and clasped her hands on the desk. "I want ... a payment request form for each and every rat for each and every day you claim they 'stood watch'." She smiled as she gazed at him, expecting anquished realization to spread over that face. "Certainly, I'll begin immediately," John retorted brightly, a strange cunning gleam lighting his eyes, "and you'll have to personally authorize every one of them!" Dianne sighed, "Twenty dollars towards your rent for the bag of kibble." John nodded, "Done deal! Pleasure doin' business with ya!" &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& MONDAY, AUGUST 5th, 1996 &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& STEALING VAMPS: WAIT, WHAT DID HE SAY? by Elizabeth Ann Lewis Time: mid-afternoon Place: University of Toronto "Ugh," Kristina said, looking at the vampire currently raging in the recording booth. "HIM?" Lizbet grinned. "You wanted to study the languages vampires use throughout the ages. Screed is a perfect test case." "But ... but ..." Kristina protested, then sighed. "OK, let's get cracking." She flipped the switch on the sound board that started the recording and let them hear Screed. "You know the drill," she told Lizbet. "Name?" Lizbet read off the questionaire. "Screed." They worked their way through the questionaire and went on to the list of words. Lizbet put down the sheet. "Something is wrong here. This is too easy. He sounds like he is speaking perfect English!" Kristina chewed her lip for a second, thinking. "Wait, I know!" She took the mic. "Screed, if you could speak extemporaneously for awhile." "Ex-temper-WAT?" "Just talk about anything you like. We'll listen." Five minutes later Kristina was happily taking notes and Lizbet's eyes were glazed over. "See?" Kristina asked. "It isn't the individual words, it's how they're put together!" Lizbet nodded blankly. "Wait, what did he say? What's he talking about?" "Hmmm, he seems to be ranting about a vampire rat..." &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& TUESDAY, AUGUST 6th, 1996 &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& HI SCREED. GOOD TO SEE YOU. by Pat Casey Time: 10:00 pm Place: Vachon's Church Pat and Nancy wandered around the church. Vaqueras/os were bummed out all around. Several were headed to bed. "I'm tired," Pat complained. "It seems like we've been in Toronto forever. I'll be glad to get back in my bed in Louisville." "Well, we are all tired," Nancy said. "War can drag people down, even for a good cause." Vachon sat in the corner, seemingly ignoring everyone. "Why so glum, Vachon?" Pat asked. "Oh ... nothing," Vachon answered, not sounding convincing. Nancy flashed a week smile. "We'll be out of your hair very soon. I ... hope." Pat grabbed a chair and sat down beside him. "Come on, Vachon. That long face means something. Surely we're not bugging you that much." Vachon rolled his big brown eyes at her. "Have you had a taste of vampire blood? How can you tell? Can you sense it?" Pat and Nancy laughed. "It's called body language," Pat said. "Yeah," Nancy agreed. "You look like you lost your best friend." Vachon wet his lips and stared out into space. "Well ... I did." Then Pat understood. "Oh. You mean Screed." Vachon looked sadder than before. "Screed," he said, his voice low. "But I thought ... " Nancy started to say. She turned and called out, "Hey, Torrey!" Torrey, walking through the room, stopped and turned. "Someone call me?" "Over here," Nancy said. Torrey walked the few feet to them. "Have you heard anything on Screed?" Torrey looked thoughtful. "Sure. Just like all the other rumors floating around. He's been hanging around in the sewers." Vachon jumped to his feet. "He's alive? Are you sure?" Torrey grinned. "That's what I hear. I can find out for you. Let me make some phone calls. His eyes sparkling, Vachon looked as eager as a child. "I'd like that," he said, his smile spread wide. Torrey left and returned shortly. "I just talked to Dianne, The Grand High Poohbah of the Mercenary Guild. She says she can tell Screed that you want to see him. I told her to do it as soon as she could. She said she'd tell him within the hour." "He's alive," Vachon said, looking amazed. "But how?" "Apparently someone one dug him up and restored him, like we did you." Vachon grinned. "When will he be here?" "Dianne suggested that he meet you in the basement, away from the others. He's a bit edgy around so many." Vachon rose and hurried toward the stairs. "I'm going too," Pat said. "I want to see this happy reunion." Pat, Nancy and Torrey followed close on his heels, which was no easy feat. Vachon nearly flew. In the basement, Vachon paced the floor. "Will he have trouble getting around the alarms?" Pat asked. "Not likely," Torrey said. "He has special powers, remember?" Before anyone could answer, a swoosh of air sounded. Screen had arrived. "V-man!" he shouted. "I 'ear you been looking for ole Screed." Vachon swooped the other man into a bear hug. "I thought you were dead, you drunken sailor." Screed pulled away, looking somewhat embarrassed. "Not 'fore the ladies." Vachon looked around. "These are my friends, Screed. They're using the church for awhile." Screed grinned cockeyed. "Buildin' is full o' sweet baby Janes. Looks like they've added a bit o' spit n polish to the ol' place. "They've cleaned it up real good, Screed," Vachon said. "Real good. I wouldn't have known the place myself." "I been back to me domicil," Screed said. "Been too busy to pick up aft meself. Someone 'ad been there doin' a bit o' work." "That was me," Vachon said. "I tried to tidy it after you ... well after you...." "Died on you?" Screed finished. "Ya did the ole bones good for Screedy. Buried me in the sand, ya did. Just like I asked ya." Vachon grinned again. "And I danced on your grave, sailor. I danced on your grave. Welcome back. This war hasn't been all bad after all." Pat, Nancy and Torrey had to agree. They quietly left the two old friends together and crept up the steps. Pat sniffed. "I love happy endings." "Yeah me too," Nancy said. Torrey chuckled. "Make that a threesome. THAT was a happy ending." &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& And that's bloody well all, mates!