You Suck: A Love Story

off.”
    And she was all, “He let you live because his laundry was done?”
    And Flood goes, “Lucky, huh?” Totally not out of breath, even with the running.
    So when we got to the construction site, everything was either open or would be when everyone came to work. And the Countess looked up into the rafters or what ever of the bridge and goes, “There.”
    So there is where we went. I grabbed some tarps that were covering this generator thing by the construction site and Jared and I climbed up into the rafters with our vampyre sires and helped tuck them in just in time for them to go out.
    But as it got lighter, and we saw all the homeless people around, Jared and I realized that our masters would not be safe here when all the homeless people who lived under the bridge noticed the tarps and our delicate youth or smelled my Gummi Bears and came after us. So Jared went to get the garden cart, some trash bags and duct tape, and hopefully his stepmom’s minivan so we can move our masters to a safer realm.
    Oh, check it, before the Countess passed into the inky sleep of the undead, I was like, “So what did you get me for Christmas?”
    And she was all, “Ten thousand dollars.”
    And I was like, “I didn’t get you guys anything.”
    And she was like, “That’s okay. You are our most special favorite minion and it’s all good.”
    Which is why I love her and will guard her to the death. Then she like kissed the vampyre Flood and passed out. I’m sure their love will span the ages, if Jared and I don’t fuck up and fry them during transport.
    OMG! I just remembered, we forgot to feed Chet!

24 – The Half-Life of American
    Cheese
    The Cheddar Princess ofFond du Lac was toasted. It wasn’t just the bursting into flames that had crispied her up more than somewhat physically, it was that Drew’s blood tasted like bong water, and she was still a little mentally baked from feeding on him. She’d made the mistake of trying to get the taste out of her mouth with some orange juice and had been rewarded with five minutes of the dry heaves.
    She brushed at her arms and great black flakes of burned skin came away, revealing fresh, unscarred skin below. Drew’s blood was healing her, but it appeared that the process was going to take time and, like life in general, was going to be messy.
    Maybe a bath.
    She padded naked into the bathroom, which was done all in slabs of granite and green glass, and ran her bath. While the tub filled, she picked the last few burned tatters of her dress away from her skin and dropped them into the toilet. There was a swath of gray dust across the black tile, the remains of the original owner, and she was tracking him all over the bathroom and bedroom suite, so she stopped to sweep him into the corner with a towel. That had sort of been a surprise (in what was turning out to be a long line of surprises) when her first victim had disintegrated in her arms two nights ago, just as she was getting the hang of blood drinking.
    “Oops.”
    He had been so nice, too. Had picked her up in his Mercedes not two minutes after she’d stumbled out of Lash’s apartment building wearing nothing but a leather bustier and thigh-high platform boots. It wasn’t the first time she’d been on the street with her ass hanging out-that wasn’t what had thrown her. It was waking up feeling like her tits were on fire to see her body rejecting the giant silicone globes she had spent so much money having implanted. Even as she tried to push them back in with her hands, the implants pushed through her skin, opening her up like they were aliens hatching out of her. She screamed as they broke through and rolled to the floor, then lay there, quivering on the carpet. As she watched, her skin mended, her breasts tightened and lifted, the pain had turned to a tingling, but now she felt a squirming in her face-her lips specifically, and she wiped her mouth and came away with two sluglike lines of silicone that had been injected years ago. It was only then, in looking at the grotesque globs of lip filler on her hand, that Blue realized she wasn’t blue at all. Her palms were baby white. Her arms, her legs-she ran to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. An old familiar stranger looked back at her-the Cheddar Princess ofFond du Lac. She hadn’t seen this person since high school; the milky-white skin, hair almost white blond, still in the severe cut of the blue call girl, but looking somewhat like a pageboy