are pretty much fucked nineways to Kwanzaa because it’s the end of the world and whatnot, and there are metric buttloads of kitties in the City, and only two fly, vampyre-frying solar jackets, mine and Foo’s, and we are being detained by law enforcement assbags instead of saving humanity.
So Rivera’s all, “What about Flood and the redhead? You helped them, right?”
Kudos to Inspector Obvious, we’re only living in their loft, spending their money, and hanging our damp towels on their bronzed bodies. I was all, “They left. All the vampyres left. Didn’t you talk to the Emperor? He saw them get on a boat at the Marina?”
“The Emperor isn’t the most dependable witness,” Rivera says. “And he didn’t say anything about those two, but I find it hard to believe that a cat, even a vampyre cat, even a gang of vampyre house cats took down a full-grown parking enforcement officer.”
So I was like, “Chet is not a normal vampyre kitty. He’s huge. More huge than normal. He’s getting huger. If you don’t let Foo work his mad science skills to cure him, by next week Chet might be dry-humping the Transamerica Pyramid.”
Foo was nodding like a manga-haired bobblehead. He was all, “Truth.”
The big gay Cavuto cop is all, “Can you do that, kid? Can you put this shit storm back in the box?”
“Absolutely,” says Foo, when he totally has no clue how to catch Chet. “I’ll need some time, but leave the handcuffs on, because that’s how I work best.”
Foo can be most sarcastic when faced with day dwellers less intelligent than himself, which is almost everyone.
’Kayso, Rivera takes the sleeve of my jacket and starts turning it over, looking at it, all Neanderthal discovers fire face. And he’s all, “Can you make one of these in a leather sport coat? Forty long?”
And I’m all, “Are you coming on to me?”
And he gagged a little (which was mean), and he’s all, “No. I am definitely not coming on to you, Allison. Not only are you the most irritating creature on the planet, you are a child.”
And I’m all, “A child?! A child?! Do these belong to a child?” And I pulled up my top and flashed him. And not just a flash, a full, glorious boobosity.
And he didn’t say anything. So I turned my headlights on Foo and the big gay cop.
And they’re all, “Um-uhr-uhr-um—”
I’m like, “ Et tu, Foo?” Which is Shakespearean for, “You traitor!”
And I ran into the bedroom and locked the door. I was kind of wishing I’d taken a hostage, except really the only weapon I had was a jacket with little light warts all over it, so I was limited to being dangerous to vampyres and emos who get their feelings hurt really easily by my snarky wit.
’Kayso, then I stared into the dark abyss that is the meaninglessness of human existence, because there was nothing on cable. And in searching the depths of my soul, I saw that I must stop using sex as a weapon, and that I must only use my powers of seduction for good, unless Foo wants to dosomething freaky, in which case, I can have him sign a waiver. Now, I realize that the only way for me to righteously explore my strength as a woman is to become nosferatu. And since the Countess and Lord Flood wouldn’t bring me into the fold, I must find my own way to the blood power.
’Kayso, in a few minutes Rivera’s at the door all, “Allison, I think you’d better come out here.”
And I’m all, “Oh no, Inspector, I can’t open the door. I’ve taken all these pills and everything’s all wiggly. You’ll have to break the door down.”
Then Foo’s all, “Abby, please come out. I need you.” He used his I’m sad, wounded, and locked in the castle tower with all my powers gone voice, which I didn’t even know he had, but it was tragic and I had to come out and humble myself before the cops like a little bitch, despite my new resolve to partake of the dark gift.
So I’m all, “What?”
And Rivera is all, “Allison, we have an