By the blood of a Vampanese! It's time for Twilight Junior with Cirque du Freak: The Darren Shan Saga

See, the sad eyes smilie works with Kitbug because Kitbug is adorable. And doesn't overuse it.

Kitbug wrote:

I'm not very good at fighting, can't you all just submit to my unending adorableness?

I find you to be highly adorable, Kitbug (though that may because I tend to assume that people on WGW look like their avatars).

Rabid Badger wrote:

Kitbug wrote:

I'm not very good at fighting, can't you all just submit to my unending adorableness?

I find you to be highly adorable, Kitbug (though that may because I tend to assume that people on WGW look like their avatars).

Does that mean you're a hyper-intelligent feline?!

Man, I can't believe there's a manga of this crap.

Snake Bandage wrote:

Rabid Badger wrote:

Kitbug wrote:

I'm not very good at fighting, can't you all just submit to my unending adorableness?

I find you to be highly adorable, Kitbug (though that may because I tend to assume that people on WGW look like their avatars).

Does that mean you're a hyper-intelligent feline?!

No, it means I find Kitbug's avatar adorable, and thus assume that Kitbug herself is adorable, since I've never seen a picture of her. I do the same thing with Lapin.

NEVER!

WE FIGHT TO THE DEATH!

Rabid Badger wrote:

No, it means I find Kitbug's avatar adorable, and thus assume that Kitbug herself is adorable, since I've never seen a picture of her. I do the same thing with Lapin.

Just your luck, I am pretty adorable. Though my mother constantly says that its a lie. When your own mother thinks you're vaguely evil, is that a bad thing?

Chris91 wrote:

NEVER!

WE FIGHT TO THE DEATH!

Uh, what are you replying to?

EileenK98 wrote:

Chris91 wrote:

NEVER!

WE FIGHT TO THE DEATH!

Uh, what are you replying to?

She, Lapin and Kitbug are all vying for Delcat's hand in marriage (or at least some quickie sex).

I'm definitely adorable IRL. :D

When we last saw our heroes, they vampires and spiders blah blah BLAAAAH I got gastroenteritis and stopped caring for a while, okay? But thanks to Zeiss' gentle prodding, I'm back to the job at hand, albeit mildly puzzled on the brew. Let's do this thing.

It turns out that Steve has a book of plot devices at home with a picture of Crepsley from 1903 in it. Crepsley threatens him and is told Darren will call the police if he comes up missing, then offers hush money, but it's not accepted. Oh, no. Steve wants something better.

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Mr. Crepsley shook his head with disgust. "Children!" he snarled. "I hate children. What is it you want?
Money? Jewels? The rights to publish my story?"

"I want to join you," Steve said.

I almost fell off the balcony when I heard that. Join him?

"What do you mean?" Mr. Crepsley asked, as stunned as I was.

"I want to become a vampire," Steve said. "I want you to make me a vampire and teach me your ways."

"You are crazy!" Mr. Crepsley roared.

"No," Steve said, "I'm not."

"I cannot turn a child into a vampire," Mr. Crepsley said. "I would be murdered by the Vampire
Generals if I did."

"What are Vampire Generals?" Steve asked.

"Never you mind," Mr. Crepsley said. "All you need to know is, it cannot be done. We do not blood
children. It creates too many problems."

Take your time to stop laughing. I'll wait.

Okay, yeah. Vampire Generals. In CAPS. I'm not sure what I can really add to that, except that my author friend waitresses, my artist friend works in a tourist shop, my comic book author/artist friend does Second Life commissions for a living, and THIS guy gets money THROWN at him. Publishers don't know what's good for 'em.

Crepsley tries to shake the little barnacle off his leg with common sense, saying that vampires have horrible lives and can't get laid--er, "settle down and have a wife and children," but Steve refuses to be persuaded. His parents don't love him and he doesn't have any friends (BAAAAAAW), so obviously the solution is to suck blood and never see the light of the sun again instead of buggering off to Vegas once he turns eighteen. He threatens to become a vampire and tell the police if Crepsley doesn't vamp him up, because the reader hasn't snorted back enough giggles yet. I guess maybe if he told them, "Hey, that pale guy in the funny clothes asked to see my little Dracula!"...

Anxious as anyone else for the plot to move along, Crepsley takes him seriously instead of laughing, unlike the reader. However, he has to "test" Steve first:

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Steve stood beside Mr. Crepsley. His body blocked my view of the vampire, so I couldn't see what
happened next. All I know is, they spoke to each other very softly, then there was a noise like a cat
lapping up milk.

I saw Steve's back shaking and I thought he was going to fall over but somehow he managed to stay
upright. I can't even begin to tell you how frightened I was, watching this. I wanted to leap to my feet and
cry out, "No, Steve, stop!"

Darren: That's a no-no place! Don't let him lick you there!

Unfortunately (or fortunately, or whatever the fuck we're supposed to feel here if we can actually be arsed about the characters), Steve has "bad" blood. Congratulations, Crepsley, you now have the Vampire HIV!

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"You have bad blood!" Mr. Crepsley screamed.

"What do you mean?" Steve asked. His voice was trembling.

"You are evil!" Mr. Crepsley shouted. "I can taste the menace in your blood. You are savage."

"That's a lie!" Steve yelled. "You take that back!"

Steve ran at Mr. Crepsley and tried to punch him, but the vampire knocked him to the floor with one
hand. "It is no good," he growled. "Your blood is bad. You can never be a vampire!"

"Why not?" Steve asked. He had started to cry.

"Because vampires are not the evil monsters of lore," Mr. Crepsley said. "We respect life. You have a
killer's instincts, but we are not killers.

"I will not make you a vampire," Mr. Crepsley insisted. "You must forget about it. Go home and get on
with your life."

"No!" Steve screamed. "I won't forget!" He stumbled to his feet and pointed a shaking ringer at the tall,
ugly vampire. "I'll get you for this," he promised. "I don't care how long it takes. One day, Vur Horston,
I'll track you down and kill you for rejecting me!"

Steve jumped from the stage and ran toward the exit. "One day!" he called back over his shoulder, and I
could hear him laughing as he ran, a crazy kind of laugh.

Steve: Exit, stage left! MWAHAHAHAHAHA!
Crepsley: It wasn't that funny :/

Crepsley huffs off to bitch in his Deadjournal about stupid hyoomans, and Darren runs home, leaving a trail of urine in his wake. They've escaped, crisis averted. Book over, right? Unfortunately, no. I cannot express how much I wish that attempting to punch a vampire is the dumbest idea anyone has in this book.

Darren gets grounded for a month for walking home alone in the middle of the night, proving that someone in the book has half a brain, but he considers it a fair trade. He regales his little sister with tales of the freaks and gives her the toy spider, at the same time wishing he had a real Madam Octa of his own. He wonders about vampire lore and if Crepsley can turn into things, because despite Steve's extensive comic book collection, he hasn't read Preacher ("I tried the bat thing once. Broke both my damn legs."). Back at school, he lies to Steve, saying he went straight home, and things are tenuously patched up between them. The book could end right here, except the Idiot Ball comes bouncing along and someone just has to grab it. While chatting with Bland and Blander, they start discussing how they controlled Madam Octa...

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"Telepathy is when you can read somebody else's mind," Steve explained, "or send them thoughts
without speaking. That's how they controlled the spider, with their minds."

"So what's with the flutes?" I asked.

"Either they're just for show," Steve said, "or, more likely, you need them to attract her attention."

"You mean anyone could control her?" Tommy asked.

"Anyone with a brain, yes," Steve said. "Which counts you out, Alan," he added, but smiled to show he
didn't mean it.

"You wouldn't need magic flutes or special training or anything?" Tommy asked.

"I don't think so," Steve answered.

At this point the reader, having noticed the book is only half over, is overcome with a sense of dread. Words like, "No. Seriously...no," and "No, you cannot be serious," and "I will SPANK you, book," come to mind. With trepidation, they turn the page.

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Anyone could control her. That anyone could be me.. If I could get my hands on Madam Octa and
communicate with her, she could be my pet and I could control her and …

No. It was foolish. Maybe I could control her, but I would never own her. She was Mr. Crepsley's and
there was no way in the world that he would part with her, not for money or jewels or …

The answer hit me in a flash. A way to get her from him. A way to make her mine. Blackmail! If I
threatened the vampire I could say I'd get the police after him he'd have to let me keep her.

But the thought of going face to face with Mr. Crepsley terrified me. I knew I couldn't do it. That left just
one other option: I'd have to steal her!

Unfortunately, the demographic this series is written for is too young to drink. With any hope, they'll have at least picked up a few curse words and how to use them properly from daytime television. Those of us lucky enough to have a chemical outlet pop the cap off a Mike's and grimly read on.

Darren decides to raid the place during the day, since they perform late at night and probably "sleep in until eight or nine." A few pages crawl by in preparation. He kisses his mom and dad in case he never sees them again, which SHOULD make him consider WHY, but no such luck. Oh no, they heard his alarm and will catch him! Oh wait, they didn't! Oh no, he can't flush the toilet because they'll hear it! Oh wait, he can just not flush it. (Cripes, do they have a midnight moratorium on using the can? And won't they be more suspicious if they get up and find his...leavings?) Oh no, he has second thoughts! Oh wait, he thinks about the creepy vore act and soldiers on. Why couldn't you run with the second thoughts, man?

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I can't explain why Madam Octa meant so much to me, or why I was placing my life in such danger to
have her. Looking back, I'm no longer sure what drove me on. It was just this intense need I couldn't
ignore.

Oh, because the author is poking you with the Plot Stick. Great.

He makes his way through the theatre, tiptoeing past the Wolf Man's cage and nearly tripping over the Snake Boy before finding...GASPY! A COFFIN! Yeah, why the fuck do we care, we already know he's a vampire. It's almost like this was supposed to be the reveal, but then the author changed his mind and couldn't be arsed to change it around. He admits he's too much of a weenie to open it (being too smart to open it is an option already ruled out), instead grabbing the spider and making a run for it...at least, that's what a someone with an ounce of intelligence would do, but OUR hero leaves a NOTE first:

Quote :

I read it as I stuck it to the top of the coffin with a piece of gum.

Mr Crepsley,
I know who and what you are. I have taken Madam Octa and am keeping her. Do not come
looking for her. Do not come back to this town If you do, I will tell everyone that you are a
vampire and you will be hunted down and killed I am not Steve. Steve knows nothing about this I
will take good care of the spider

Of course, I didn't sign it!

Mentioning Steve probably wasn't a good idea, but I was sure the vampire would think of him anyway,
so it was just as well to clear his name.

Because it's not like Steve mentioned you as being his only friend or anything. Captain, what do you think?

Thank you, Captain.


That's all for now, except for a small announcement: Apparently, I jumped on this snark wagon at an eerily good time. Soon, hating this series is going to come to a theatre near you! I'm rather of two minds about it--on the one hand, I've read about 1.85 of the books and even I'm wincing at what they're doing to canon, such as it is. On the other hand, it so disresembles the source material that it almost looks decent. Either way, I'm breathing a sigh of relief that they made Crepsley utterly unsexable.


Next time: The debilitating neurotoxins hit the fan.

That...was shorter than the scroll bar in WordPad suggested. Okay, another quick one before I go back to scanning.

When he gets home, Darren stashes Madam Octa in a pile of laundry, hardly a befitting place for the only decent character in this series. He goes to school, which passes painfully slowly (and Darren gets tired of it, too), then comes home and tries to figure out why she's just sitting there. DERP DERP LIVING CREATURES NEED TO BE FED. He catches some bugs for the lady in the backyard, then comes back to feed her:

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The spider squinted and crouched down lower at the sudden surge of light. I was about to open the
door and throw the food in when I remembered I was dealing with a poisonous spider who could kill me
with a couple of bites.

I lifted the jar over the cage, picked out one of the live insects, and dropped it. It landed on its back. Its
feet twitched in the air and then it managed to roll over onto its belly. It began crawling toward freedom
but didn't get far.

As soon as it moved, Madam Octa pounced. One second she was standing still as a cocoon in the
middle of the cage, the next she was over the insect, baring her fangs.

She swallowed the bug down quick. It would have fed a normal spider for a day or two, but to Madam
Octa it was no more than a light snack. She made her way back to her original spot and looked at me as
if to say, "Okay, that was nice. Now where's the main course?"

I fed her the entire contents of the jar. The worm put up a good fight, twisting and turning madly, but she
got her fangs into it and ripped it in half, then into quarters. She seemed to enjoy the worm the most.

I...look, I really don't like to invoke TV Tropes too often, but You Fail Biology Forever. Could you not even spend FIVE MINUTES learning HOW SPIDERS WORK? I know this was in the early days of Wikipedia, but SWEET BUGGERY FUCK, MAN. Also lawl hero so stoopid he almost get spider in face.

He goes on to feed her cheese, ham, roast beef, and lettuce (are the biologists crying yet?), then turns in...well, stays up all night clutching a cross, anyway. Crepsley doesn't show, though, even after the circus leaves town. This could be because he's biding his time, or could be because Darren seems to have actually stolen a chihuahua:

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I'd done it! Madam Octa was mine!

I celebrated by buying a pizza. Ham and pepperoni. Mom and Dad wanted to know what the special
occasion was. I said I just felt like something different and offered them and Annie a slice, and they left it
at that.

I fed the scraps to Madam Octa and she loved them. She ran around the cage licking up every last
crumb. I made a note in my diary: "For a special treat, a piece of pizza!"

My intelligence was insulted twenty pages ago. Now it's violated.

Darren spends a few days reading up on spiders and learning things most people learned when they were in third grade (spiders have eight eyes, and their webs are fluid and harden upon exposure to air), but is disappointed by the lack of mention given to flutes and telepathy. I'm serious. Finally, he decides to just wing it.

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I gulped loudly and tried not to let her sense my fear. It was difficult but I managed not to shake or cry.

The flute had slipped about an inch from my lips while
I was watching her but I was still holding it. It was time to start playing, so I pressed it back between my
lips and prepared to blow.

That was when she made her move. In one giant leap, she sprang across the room. She flew forward, up
into the air, jaws open, fangs ready, hairy legs twitching, straight at my unprotected face!

The end! Thank God that's over, let's go--

Quote :

IF SHE HAD CONNECTED, she would have sunk her fangs into me and I would have died. But luck was
on my side, and instead of landing on flesh, she slammed against the end of the flute and went flying off to
the side.

Fuck.

He actually manages to think her into bowing, then returning to her cage, because he just kind of knows telepathy now, but he's shaken enough to reconsider his brilliant plan...

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That should have been warning enough. Any sensible person would have left the door shut and forgot
about playing with such a deadly pet. It was too dangerous. What if she hadn't hit the flute? What if Mom
had come home and found me dead on the floor? What if the spider then attacked her or Dad or Annie?
Only the world's dumbest person would run a risk like that again.

Step forward Darren Shan!

C'mon, man. I know I said told Zeiss this thing snarked itself, but now you're just rubbing it in.

He makes her do some tricks, like drawing pictures with her webs (Charlotte called, she wants her schtick back) and lifting tiny weights, then locks her away and goes downstairs. In a bit of hastily spackled-on exposition, we learn that he learned to play the flute when he was five. In another bounce of the Idiot Ball, he stops locking his door because his parents agree not to come in while he's playing the flute. Because the author's ego hasn't been stroked in at least three pages, we're treated to more soccer.

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My schoolwork improved during the next week, and so did my goal-scoring. I scored twenty-eight
goals between Monday and Friday. Even Mr. Dalton was impressed.

"With your good grades in class and your prowess on the field," he said, "you could turn into the world's
first professional soccer player-cum-university professor! A cross between Pele and Einstein!"

I knew he was only pulling my leg, but it was nice of him to say it all the same.

I wish I was reading a book about a soccer-playing genius instead of this one :<

He continues to teach her tricks, lets her crawl on him, is happy and gay, blah blah blah, we're all just waiting for someone to get bitten and get all swole up like an angry ole plum. Then Steve comes over and demands to know why Darren hasn't been calling him for phone sex like every Tuesday. Is he cheating on him with a vampire OMG?!? Darren denies it, but slips up prettily easily, using the name "Crepsley" to refer to him when Steve has only used the name "Vur Hurston." Darren admits it, and they have a tender moment of vulnerability before reconciling.

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"What if he had turned you into one and you'd come after me? Most vampires go after people they know
first, don't they?"

"In books and movies, yes," Steve said. "This is different. This is real life. I wouldn't have hurt you,
Darren."

"Maybe," I said. "Maybe not. The point is, I don't want to find out. I don't want to be friends with you
anymore. You could be dangerous. What if you met another vampire and this one granted your wish? Or
what if Mr. Crepsley was right and you're really evil and …"

"I'm not evil!" Steve shouted, and shoved me back on the bed. He leaped on my chest and stuck his
fingers in my face. "Take that back!" he roared. "Take that back, or so help me, I'll jerk your head off
and …"

Or, uh, that happens. Totally not evil, folks? And...don't...don't say "jerk your head off," Steve, just...don't.

Steve snaps out of his cute little berserker rage and the two really do reconcile, and Darren agrees to reveal what's been keeping him away from their illicit love affair.

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"Oh man!" he gasped, almost falling off the bed in shock. "That's a … she's a … where did … Wow!"

I was delighted with his reaction. I stood over the cage, smiling like a proud father. Madam Octa lay on
the floor, quiet as ever, paying no attention to me or Steve.

"She's awesome!" Steve said, crawling closer for a better look. "She looks just the same as the one in
the circus. I can't believe you found one that looks so similar. Where'd you get her? A pet shop? From a
zoo?"

My smile slipped. "I got her from the Cirque Du Freak, of course," I said uneasily.

"From the freak show?" he asked, face crinkling. "They were selling live spiders? I didn't see any. How
much did she cost?"

I shook my head and said: "I didn't buy her, Steve. I … Can't you guess? Don't you understand?"

"Understand what?" he asked.

"That's not a similar spider," I said. "That's the same one. It's Madam Octa."

Steve hits the roof when he finds out he stole it, yelling that Crepsley will rip his throat out, not just "spank your bottom and scold you," because we needed that fetish image. However, I think I actually prefer Manga!Steve's reaction (read right to left for you non-animoos):

[You must be registered and logged in to see this image.]

A picture is worth a thousand words, most of them having to do with the single lonely brain cell slowly orbiting the chewy nougat lump you have in your skull.

Common sense said, Steve quickly switches sides, eager to get in on the act.

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"Have you let her make a web over your lips?" Steve asked. His eyes were shining brightly.

"Not yet," I said. "I'm worried about letting her in my mouth: the thought of her slipping down my throat
terrifies me. Besides, I'd need a partner to control her while she spun the web, and so far I've been
alone."

"So far." Steve grinned. "But not anymore." He got up and clapped his hands. "Let's do it. Teach me
how to use that fancy tin whistle and let me at her. I'm not afraid to let her in my mouth. C'mon, let's go,
let's go, let's go go go go GO!"

BOY HOWDY PEOPLE SURE DO LIKE SWALLOWING SPIDERS WHOLE IN THIS BOOK

Quote :

Steve was enjoying it and so was I. There were lots of new things I was able to do now that I had a
partner.

...I'll just leave that there

At long, long last, with a might prod from the Plot Stick, what everyone knew was going to happen happens:

Quote :

Normally Annie never enters my room before knocking. She's a great kid, not like other brats her age,
and almost always knocks politely and waits for a reply. But that evening, by sheer bad luck, she
happened to barge in.

"Hey, Darren, where's my …" she started to say, then stopped. She saw Steve and the monstrous
spider on his shoulder, its fangs glinting as though getting ready to bite, and she did the natural thing.
She screamed.

The sound alarmed me. My head turned, the flute slid from my lips, and my concentration snapped. My
link to Madam Octa disintegrated. She shook her head, took a couple of quick steps closer to Steve's
throat, then bared her fangs and appeared to grin.

Steve roared with fear and surged to his feet. He swiped at the spider, but she ducked and his hand
missed. Before he could try again, Madam Octa lowered her head, quick as a snake, and sank her
poison-tipped fangs deep into his neck!

The venom goes straight to the brain, game over. Darren goes to jail, Crepsley tearfully testifying that he seemed like such a nice boy, Madam Octa goes into therapy, and we all learn a valuable lesson about the dangers of wild animals oh of course he lives despite all odds. But for how long?


Next time: Now that Steve's got that spider bite on his hand, I think we might have to break up the band. To lose his arm would surely upset his brain (like this fucking book is doing to the reader), and the poison then could reach his heart from a vein. Mutilation, mayhem, and memeage!

Lapin wrote:

Rabid Badger wrote:

No, it means I find Kitbug's avatar adorable, and thus assume that Kitbug herself is adorable, since I've never seen a picture of her. I do the same thing with Lapin.

Just your luck, I am pretty adorable. Though my mother constantly says that its a lie. When your own mother thinks you're vaguely evil, is that a bad thing?

Yesterday over dinner the topic of me apparently being scary came up, I said a fair few people seem to be vaguely scared of me and I don't really know why, and my mother agreed. I thought she agreed with what I said; turns out she agrees with the people who find me slightly scary.

Meanwhile, Darren made up names for the carnies, like Mr. Crepsey and Mr. Tall! He stockpiled spiders and laid the authors' fetishes bare! He feasted on their lovely spiderwebs like a lunatic and plodded himself through the book without a care!

I can hear chants of disappointment, and some girl is cursing him in her prayers! Well I don't know what it is but there is definitely somethin' goin' on upstairs...

Snark yourself, Darren, snark yourself, Darren, snark yourself, Darren, snark yourself - in that plothole!

How could you leave it hanging like that? D:

She enjoys torture. Little known fact about Delcat, her night job is at a dominatrix club. They call her Madame Spork. (No, you don't want to know where the spork comes in)

Lapin wrote:

Little known fact about Delcat, her night job is at a dominatrix club. They call her Madame Spork. (No, you don't want to know where the spork comes in)

Despite being one of nature's submissives, I've occasionally angsted about the fact that 4'10" girls just aren't built to be dominatrixes and wondered if there was a way that this could be changed. As such, at fourteen, I drafted a script for a whimsical animated film called "The Littlest Dominatrix", featuring a scrappy young short girl whose only dream is to become the best dominatrix in the whole darned world. Her peers tease her mercilessly and her subs respond to her inept whippings with giggles and "D'aaawwwws", but she works hard and practices diligently, and during one particularly energetic musical montage, she discovers her inner sadist, just in time for the Best Dominatrix in the Whole Darned World finals! With six musical numbers and a valuable lesson to be learned, this is a movie the whole family will want to watch again and again! 96 minutes, color, rating pending.

...Disney rejected it. Friggin' Eisner era. I should add in a lovable petplay fetishist who is constantly getting into trouble and try again.*


Sorry, what were we talking about? ...oh, right. This thing. Great.

When we left off, Steve had just been chomped on by Madam Octa, because she is our only friend in this hot tranny mess. Like in the show, the first bite only paralyzes her victim, so Steve has a fighting chance. Will she deliver the finishing blow?

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I was in a state of shock, but the sight of her emerging over his shoulder like some terrible arachnid
sunrise spurred me back to life. I stooped for the flute, jammed it almost through the back of my throat,
and blew the loudest note of my entire life.

Not while Aspiring Best Head Giver in the Whole Darned World Darren is here!

Darren manages to herd Madam Octa back into her cage, but Steve is already totally paralyzed. He pulls him to his feet and walks him around the room in an attempt to help the poison wear off, because the first thing you want to do with a victim of a venomous bite is get their blood pressure up and make absolutely sure the poison is equally distributed between the heart, lungs, and brain. Also spiders like pizza.

After ten fucking minutes of waltzing Darren's new friend, Mr. Corpsey, around the room, he gives up and wonders why his mother hasn't been even mildly disturbed by the sounds (i.e.: "AAAAAH *BITE* OHSHITOHSHITOHSHIT GET UP YOU BASTARD DON'T DIE ON ME *CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP* FUCK THIS ISN'T WORKING hey he's really paralyzed HEY STEVE IF YOU DON'T WANT ME TO FUCK YOU IN THE ASS JUST SAY SOMETHING OKAY GREAT *UNF UNF UNF UNF*..."). The author quickly handwaves it by saying the washing machine is on, and apparently is louder than a small girl screaming, which must make laundry day a real treat.

Annie, finally recovering, asks about the spider, and we're treated to another round of exposition on the subject, making a grand total of three times--telling Annie, telling Steve, and oh, I don't know, actually having read the events when they took place. It's like that chapter describing the girls in every Babysitter's Club book, except even less necessary and interesting, and also a prepubescent boy is doing his two-by-four impression nearby and possibly wetting himself. Thankfully, once he's done, Darren quickly leaps into action!

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I stuck the cage back in the closet, where I wouldn't have to look at Madam Octa. I joined Annie by the
bed and studied Steve's motionless form. We sat silently for almost an hour, just watching.

"I don't think he's going to recover," she finally said.

"Give it more time," I pleaded.

"I don't think time will help," she insisted.

Annie: Darren, his entire body done swole up like an angry old plum.
Darren: Are you calling my best friend fat?
Annie: His neck looks like an innertube.
Darren: How dare you malign my boyfrie--I mean, my best friend! I demand an apology!
Annie: That's a pretty shade of purple.

Darren begs another fifteen minutes out of her, allowing the venom to further dissolve another pound of connective tissue in Steve's spine. During this time, he tells her not to mention Madam Octa, because th' po-po will take his sorry ass away if she does. Annie argues that they might need to examine the spider, but Darren whines her out of it, thus eliminating the possibility of them milking her venom and creating an antivenin, or even analyzing the venom and finding a similar treatment. She finally gives in and promises to feign ignorance unless it comes down to a life-or-death situation, in which case she'll spill.

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She got to her feet and headed for the door. She stopped in the middle of the room, turned, came back,
and kissed me on the forehead. "I love you, Darren," she said, "but you were a fool to bring that spider
into this house, and if Steve dies, I think you are the one who should be blamed."

Then she ran from the room, sobbing.

Know what? I was wrong. Annie, you are a bastion of logic and almost as cool as Madam Octa. Please keep this up. Hell, go on, become the protagonist. We won't stop you, promise.

Finally, now that Steve's insides resemble a meat Slurpee, Darren goes crying to his mommy, and they go to the hospital. Darren admits to himself that he's a miserable little fuck and if he was in the same position, Steve would've owned up and saved his life. We're supposed to like this kid...why? Mom gives her diagnosis, i.e., he "ate something that didn't agree with him" or had a heart attack. Yeah, you know that milk that's two days past the expiry date in your fridge? Don't drink that shit, man. You won't throw up and feel better, you'll experience paralysis of every fucking voluntary muscle in your body. Shit's hardcore.

As the doctors examine Steve, Annie corners Darren and asks what'll happen if he dies before they figure out what's wrong. Darren snaps that he won't, and considering they let the kid stew in his own venom gravy for an hour fifteen without him bleeding from every orifice he knew he had and a few he didn't, he's probably right in this one case. However, she keeps badgering him:

Quote :

"But what if …"

"He won't!" I snapped. "Don't talk like that. Don't even think like that. We have to hope for the best.
We must believe he will pull through. Mom and Dad have always told us good thoughts help make sick
people better, haven't they? He needs us to believe in him."

"He needs the truth more," she grumbled, but let the matter drop.

Oh my God, I love this kid. She's revealing that our so-called hero is a cowardly little snot trying to use false virtues to coddle himself over his own stupidity, and she's doing it with snappy one-liners! Stay with us forever, Annie! We love you!

Finally, in a rather uncomfortable scene, Steve's mom shows up and throws an utter shitfit, shaking the ever-loving tar out of Darren (about bloody time) before collapsing to the floor and bawling about being a bad mother. This still isn't enough to get Darren to do the right thing, instead feeling briefly sorry for himself and then wandering off to play arcade games, which act as a panacea until he runs out of quarters.

He passes up another chance to tell about the spider because he's "tired and couldn't find the words", instead going home to bawwww at his eight-legged betters.

Quote :

I studied the colorful spider and wasn't impressed by what I saw. She was bright, yes, but ugly and hairy
and nasty. I began to hate her. She was the real villain, the one who bit Steve for no good reason. I had
fed her and cared for her and played with her. This was how she repaid me.

"You stupid monster!" I snarled, shaking the cage. "You ungrateful creep!"

I gave the cage another shake. Her legs gripped the bars tightly. This made me madder and I yanked the
cage roughly from side to side, trying to make her lose her grip, hoping to hurt her.

I spun in a circle, whirling the cage around by the handle. I was swearing, calling her every name under
the sun, wishing she was dead, wishing I'd never set eyes on her, wishing I had the guts to take her out of
the cage and squeeze her to death.

Okay, let's shake this up a little. Let's say Madam Octa was a dog. Let's call her Sally. Sally's a smart little dachshund that learns tricks to please her master, and loves him and all he does for her. But one day, her master's friend comes over. She probably shouldn't be around other people, because she's nervous by nature, and her master knows full well she could bite if provoked, but he has her do her tricks anyway. But while she's doing her tricks, eager to please her beloved master, someone screams. Frightened and confused, Sally follows her instincts and lashes out, biting her master's friend. Despite the fact that her master knew full well that this was probably going to happen, he gets angry at her for being a dog, instead of himself for being negligent. And he takes that anger out on Sally, poor sweet little Sally, blaming her, shaking her, hurting her, only not actively killing her because he's not man enough to risk getting bitten himself.

Our hero, ladies and gentlemen.

What a little shit.

(continued)

Anyway, to top off this disgusting display of arachnid abuse, he lets go, intending to smash the cage into the wall. However, since Darren has all the motor controls of a kindergartener, he manages to hock the thing through an open window, which doesn't have a screen because this story takes place in Massachusetts circa 1800 or something. Thankfully, Crepsley has been waiting to show off his mad vampire catching skillz, and Madam Octa lands in the outstretched hand of her loving owner. Awww, happy ending! ...no? Still going? Fuck.

Oddly, now that the book has finally gone, "Oh yeah, this is about vampires, isn't it?" the story slows to a crawl again. Darren can't sleep, except he does eventually, Darren figures out that Crepsley doesn't want to kill him if he hasn't already, Darren eats burned eggs...I almost miss the You Fail Biology Forever at this point.

After a couple pages, the plot rolls over in its sleep as Darren's father admits the doctors can't work it out and Steve might die within the span of a few days. Should've gone to Princeton-Plainsborough, dudes. They go to visit him the next day and--

Quote :

I studied Steve while they were talking. He was tucked neatly into the bed. A drip was attached to one arm, and wires and stuff to his chest. There were needle marks where doctors had taken samples of his
blood. His face was white and stiff. He looked terrible!

--and it says something about how desperate I'm getting for something decent at this point that my first thought was "HURT/COMFORT YEY!" Sorry about that, folks.

Darren finally attempts to tell them about the spider, but he's crying too hard to be heard, and for some reason doesn't try again once he's stopped crying. God, that plot-stick poking hurts. So he resolves to do the next best thing: Track down Crepsley and force an antidote out of him. I get the feeling that this is not an Annie-approved plan, guys.

He sets out that night, having somehow rustled up a cross and holy water (this contrivance brought to you by his father's mysterious "pen pals", probably in fact the author) but not a stake. They're sharp sticks, Darren, this is not rocket science. This is barely basic tool-user science. He senses that the vampire will be waiting for him, because it's like when he grabbed the ticket out of the air--it's a crappy plot device. Uh, I mean, it's destiny. And, indeed, Crepsley is in the theatre cellar, playing solitaire (he may also be listening to Queen and getting slightly puzzled on the brew, but that's only assumed through common solitaire-playing experience).

Crepsley reveals he's been watching Darren since the night he stole Madam Octa, purportedly to study "the kind of boy who would steal form a vampire", actually for teh lulz and possibly some fappage. Darren threatens him with his Buffy paraphenalia, but Crepsley crumples the crucifix into a ball and chugs the holy water, then chides him for believing horror movies and not bringing something effective, like guns or grenades. Because, y'know, having holy water wasn't enough of a stretch.

Quote :

"You mean … crosses don't … hurt you?" I stammered.

"Why should they?" he asked.

"Because you're … evil," I said.

"Am I?" he asked.

"Yes," I said. "You must be. You're a vampire. Vampires are evil."

"You should not believe everything you are told," he said. "It is true that our appetites are rather exotic.

Crepsley: Don't get strung out by the way I look! Don't judge a book by its cover! I may burst into flames by the light of day, but by night I'm one hell of a lover! I mean, here, just look at this doujinshi.
Darren: BUT I POOP FROM THERE D:

Quote :

"I see you are not in the mood for a debate," he said. "Very well. I will save the speeches for another
time. So tell me, Darren Shan: what is it you want if not my spider?"

"She bit Steve Leonard," I told him.

"The one known as Steve Leopard," he said, nodding. "A nasty business. Still, little boys who play with
things they do not understand can hardly complain if …"

Crepsley: ...they go blind, or hair grows on their palms, or it turns black and falls off, or the saints cry.
Darren: You are just one long sex joke, aren't you.
Crepsley: Would you like to see how long?

Crepsley reveals that he has a "serum" that will cure Steve, because "serum" may be totally inaccurate as a descriptor for anything that would do jack shit, but "antivenin" isn't all old-timey and sexy. He's strangely unwilling to fork over the only thing that can save his life if Madam Octa ever bites him, even when Darren promises to give him all his money for fifty years, but there is a price he would be willing to set...you all know where this is going, don't you?

Quote :

"I have had a rethink since then," he said. "I decided it might not be such a bad thing after all, especially
now that I have been separated from the Cirque Du Freak and will have to fend for myself. An assistant
could be just what the witch doctor ordered." He smiled at his little joke.

I frowned. "You mean you'll let Steve become your assistant now?"

"Heavens, no!" he yelped. "That monster? There is no telling what he will do as he matures. No, Darren
Shan, I do not want Steve Leopard to be my assistant." He pointed at me with his long bony finger again,
and I knew what he was going to say seconds before he said it.

[You must be registered and logged in to see this image.]

This is my new meme. And it can also be yours.


Next time: Pedobear and Shotacat rock the house and Darren gets mostly dead (we can only wish for all dead).

----

*I actually did come up with this at fourteen, effectively making it a riff seven years in the making. Hope it's aged well.

My god, the sporking was brilliant enough, but to be here . . . at the birth of a new meme? *sniff* It's too beautiful.

(NOTE: I decided to forge ahead and do the last thirty pages in one swallow, so this one is a bit long. Beg pardon.)

So when we last left off, we were building this city on rock and roll--er, I mean, Darren was becoming a vampire's assistant. So that's, like, what, picking up the Danishes every morning and hauling the coffin around? A little vamp groupie? Because I can see how that'd be utterly thrilling. ...actually, I was about to make a riff on how surely he would be doing interesting things, but I honestly cannot think of a way for this premise to be interesting, so just pretend I said something sarcastically hopeful to be undermined by the next quote.

Quote :

He smiled. "You will be my traveling companion," he explained. "You will travel with me across the
world. You will be my eyes and hands during the day. You will guard me while I sleep. You will find
food for me if it is scarce. You will take my clothes to the laundry. You will polish my shoes. You will
look after Madam Octa. In short, you will see to my every need. In return, I will teach you the ways of
the vampires."

"Do I have to become a vampire?" I asked.

"Eventually," he said. "At first you will only have some vampire powers. I will make you a half-vampire.
That means you will be able to move about during the day. You will not need much blood to keep you
satisfied. You will have certain powers but not all. And you will only age at a fifth the regular rate, instead
of the full vampire's tenth."

"What does that mean?" I asked, confused.

"Vampires do not live forever," he explained, "but we do live far longer than humans. We age at about
one-tenth the regular rate. Which means, for every ten years that pass, we age one. As a half-vampire,
you will age one year for every five."

"You mean, for every five years that pass, I'll only be one year older?" I asked.

"That is right."

Crepsley: Which means you get five times as many times to ask stupid questions that were just adequately explained.
Darren: And you get five times as many times to make dumb sarcastic comments.
Crepsley: And you get five times as many times to nearly kill yourself through horrible life choices.
Darren: And you get five times as many times to be an absolute pill.
Crepsley: And I get five times as many times to bugger your sweet underage arse before your tender rosebud reaches unsavory adulthood.
Darren: What?
Crepsley: What?

Darren finally agrees to take the plunge, with the caveat that he'll betray Crepsley the first time he gets the chance. Crepsley says this is why he chose him, as he wants his assistant to have spirit. He likes boys with spirit. The author does stop short of having the bloodsucking chickenhawk neck with the kid, but more because he wants the turning scene to be OMFG ORGIINAL!! than to filter fetish content.

Quote :

He raised his right hand and showed me the back of it. His nails weren't especially long but they looked
sharp. He raised his left hand and pressed the nails of the right into the fleshy tips of his left-hand fingers.
Then he used his other set of nails to mark the right-hand fingers in the same way. He winced as he did it.

"Lift your hands," he grunted. I was watching the blood drip from his fingers and didn't obey the
command. "Now!" he yelled, grabbing my hands and jerking them up.

He dug his nails into the soft tips of my fingers, all ten of them at once. I cried out with pain and fell back,
tucking my hands in at my sides, rubbing them against my jacket.

"Do not be such a baby," he jeered, tugging my hands free.

"It hurts! "I howled.

"Of course it does." He laughed. "It hurt me too. Did you think becoming a vampire was easy? Get used
to the pain. Much of it lies ahead."

He put a couple of my fingers in his mouth and sucked some blood out. I watched as he rolled it around
his mouth, testing it. Finally he nodded and swallowed. "It is good blood," he said. "We can proceed."
He pressed his fingers against mine, wound to wound. For a few seconds there was a numb feeling at
the ends of my arms. Then I felt a gushing sensation and realized my blood was moving from my body to
his through my left hand, while his blood was entering mine through my right.

It was a strange, tingling feeling. I felt his blood travel up my right arm, then down the side of my body
and over to the left. When it reached my heart there was a stabbing pain and I almost collapsed. The
same thing was happening to Mr. Crepsley and I could see him grinding his teeth and sweating.
The pain lasted until Mr. Crepsley's blood crept down my left arm and started flowing back into his
body. We remained joined for a couple more seconds, until he broke free with a shout. I fell backward
to the floor. I was dizzy and felt sick.

"Give me your fingers," Mr. Crepsley said. I looked across and saw him licking his. "My spit will heal the
wounds. You will lose all your blood and die otherwise."

I glanced down at my hands and saw blood leaking out. Stretching them forth, I let the vampire put them
in his mouth and run his rough tongue over the tips.

Darren: ...ugh...okay, that wasn't so bad, I guess...
Crepsley: And in forty-five months, the baby will be born! :D
Darren: GAAAAAAAAAH

Yeah, it's a long-ass quote. Get used to it. Some scenes need to be shown in their creepy Shotacat entirety. Don't agree that it's creepy? Watch what happens when I simply trim out a few sentences.

Quote :

"Lift your hands," he grunted. I was watching the blood drip from his fingers and didn't obey the
command. "Now!" he yelled, grabbing my hands and jerking them up.

"Do not be such a baby," he jeered, tugging my hands free.

"It hurts! "I howled.

"Of course it does." He laughed. "It hurt me too. Did you think becoming a vampire was easy? Get used
to the pain. Much of it lies ahead."

It was a strange, tingling feeling. When it reached my heart there was a stabbing pain and I almost collapsed. The
same thing was happening to Mr. Crepsley and I could see him grinding his teeth and sweating.

We remained joined for a couple more seconds, until he broke free with a shout. I fell backward
to the floor. I was dizzy and felt sick.

"Give me your fingers," Mr. Crepsley said. I looked across and saw him licking his. I glanced down at my hands and saw blood leaking out. Stretching them forth, I let the vampire put them
in his mouth and run his rough tongue over the tips.

[You must be registered and logged in to see this image.]

So, now that we're slightly more sure the author is a sick fuck, Darren makes some pillow talk by asking if vampires can turn into bats. Crepsley scorns him, saying that they can no sooner turn into bats, rats, or fog than ships, planes, or monkeys. Gosh, that's actually nicely sensible. So vampires are more like mutated humans, then, and have powers reasonable to that? That's a good move, book, that's--

Quote :

Once outside, he told me to hop up on his back. "Keep your arms wrapped around my neck," he said.
"Do not let go or make any sudden movements."

As I was getting up, I looked down and saw he was wearing slippers. I thought it was strange but didn't
say anything.

When I was on his back, he started running. I didn't notice anything strange at first, but soon began to
realize how fast buildings were zipping by. Mr. Crepsley's legs didn't seem to be moving that quickly.
Instead, it was as if the world was moving faster and we were slipping past it!

We reached the hospital in a couple of minutes. Normally it would have taken twenty minutes, and that
was if you sprinted all the way.

--oh come ON. Either fuck physics in the ear or DON'T, don't TEASE me like that. Ass.

At the hospital, Crepsley scales the brick wall, climbs in through the window, and frenches an eleven-year-old boy. ...wait, what?

Quote :

He lifted the vial to his mouth and prepared to drink. "What are you doing?" I asked.

"It must be passed on by mouth," he said. "A doctor could inject it but I do not know about needles and
the like."

"Is that safe?" I asked. "Won't you pass on germs?"

Mr. Crepsley grinned. "If you want to call a doctor, feel free," he said. "Otherwise, have some faith in a
man who was doing this long before your grandfather was born."

He poured the serum into his mouth, then rolled it from side to side. He leaned forward and covered the
cut with his lips. His cheeks bulged out, then in, as he blew the serum into Steve.

He sat back when he was finished and wiped around his mouth. He spat the last of the fluid onto the
floor. "I am always afraid of swallowing that stuff by accident," he said. "One of these nights, I am going
to take a course and learn how to do this the easy way."

I was about to reply, but then Steve moved. His neck flexed, then his head, then his shoulders. His arms
twitched and his legs started to jerk. His face creased up and he began to moan.

"What's happening?" I asked, afraid that something had gone wrong.

"It is all right," Mr. Crepsley said, putting away the bottle. "He was on the brink of death. The journey
back is never a pleasant one. He will be in pain for some time, but he will live."

"Will there be any side effects?" I asked. "He won't be paralyzed from the waist down or anything?"

"No," Mr. Crepsley said. "He will be fine. He will feel a bit stiff and will catch colds very easily, but
otherwise he will be the same as he was before."

...excuse me a moment.

Okay, now that I'm properly drunk enough to contemplate the meaning here, I will attempt to sum up this scene: A man blows his serum into the mouth of a child less than a tenth of his age, stating that he hates to swallow. Said child begins jerking and moaning. Close male friend of child wants to know if he will be paralyzed from the waist down for some mysterious reason. The older man specifies that happily, he will not, but now he catch colds very easily, almost as if he had something like...an auto-immune deficiency syndrome, say. In a kids' book.

...no, I'm sorry, I'm not properly drunk enough for that at all.

(continued)

Let's...let's just move on, shall we? A nurse comes in, but Crepsley shows off his mad vampire throwing bedsheets over nurses skills and tries to get Darren to escape while she still thinks it's night. Darren, however, decides to welch on the deal, making a run for it. If I were Crepsley, I would've killed Steve in return--fair's fair--but instead, he just yells that he'll come crawling back on his knees and returns to his room to cry about how men never stick around after sex.

The plot slows to a crawl again. Things return to normal, Steve seems none the wiser about how he recovered, and despite the fact that all of Darren's physical properties are increasing exponentially, nobody notices when he does things like burst soccer balls with his bare hands and bite straight through forks when he's eating. Then, at one soccer game, he can't resist plowing into one of his teammates because he wants to steal the goal, tripping him and bloodying his knee. Granted, this is standard douchebag behavior from the little twat, but throwing on-field temper tantrums never netted him nummies before! Overtaken by bloodlust, he turns into Chiyo's cat daddy from Azumanga Daioh or something and starts sucking his buddy's knee like a Thai hooker. Luckily, Darren puts his brilliant intellect to work and quickly springs into action!

Quote :

Then the solution hit me and I jumped up and spread my arms. "I am the vampire lord!" I yelled. "I am
the king of the undead! I will suck the blood from all of you!"

They stared at me in shock, then laughed. They thought it was a joke! They thought I was only
pretending to be a vampire.

"You're a nut, Shan," somebody said.

Teammate: And now you're a nut with AIDS. It's funny because it's incurable!

Unfortunately, Steve now suspects what's going on. He avoids him all afternoon, taking time when he gets home to assess his situation. He notes his fingernails are now hard enough to cut glass, pretty much precluding any chance of a decent manicure anytime in the future, and dreams of becoming a millionaire vampire soccer player, which is a phrase I swear to God I thought I'd never type. Then Annie comes in wearing only a towel to take a bath and oh sweet baby Jeebus not this again.

Quote :

"No," she said, shaking her head. "You're definitely …" The tub began filling up, so she stopped
speaking and turned aside to turn off the faucets. As she was bending over, my eyes focused on the
curve of her neck, and suddenly my mouth went dry.

"As I was saying, you look …" she began, turning back around.

She stopped when she saw my eyes.

"Darren?" she asked nervously. "Darren, what are …"

I raised my right hand and she went quiet. Her eyes widened and she stared silently at my fingers as I
waved them slowly from side to side, then around in small circles. I wasn't sure how I was doing it, but I
was hypnotizing her!

"Come here," I growled, my voice deeper than normal. Annie rose and obeyed. She moved as if
sleepwalking, eyes blank, arms and legs stiff.

When she stopped before me, I traced the outline of her neck with my fingers. I was breathing heavily
and seeing her as though through a misty cloud. My tongue slowly licked around my lips and my belly
rumbled. The bathroom felt as hot as a furnace, and I could see beads of sweat rolling down Annie's
face.

I walked around the back of her, my hands never leaving her flesh. I could feel the veins throbbing as I
stroked them, and when I pressed down on one near the bottom of her neck, I could see it standing out,
blue and beautiful, begging to be ripped open and sucked dry.

[You must be registered and logged in to see this image.]

I really just...wow. The manga is slightly more tasteful, since it leaves out the creepy mind control, and that's saying something.

Thankfully, before Darren can...consummate...he notices the ghastly apparition in the last page there and realizes, "Hey, this is probably not cool." He gives up and runs into the night to tell Crepsley that he's won and he's ready to become a vampire.

Quote :

"There's no way back, is there?" I asked sadly. "No magic potion to make me human again or keep me
from attacking people?"

"The only thing that can stop you now," he said, "is the good old stake through the heart."

"Very well," I sighed. "I don't like it, but I guess I've got no other choice. I'm yours. I won't run away again. Do with me as you wish."

He nodded slowly. "You probably will not believe this," he said, "but I know what you are going through
and I feel sorry for you." He shook his head. "But that is neither here nor there. We have work to do and
cannot afford to waste time. Come, Darren Shan," he said, taking my hand. "We have much to do before
you can assume your rightful place as my assistant."

"Like what?" I asked, confused.

"First of all," he said, with a sly smile, "we have to kill you!"

[You must be registered and logged in to see this image.]

Darren spends the week saying sayonara to his friends and family, playing with Annie the most because she totally owns his ballsack and ballsack contents. Figures one out of two decent characters is disappearing one book into the series. His parents assume he's going through puberty and give him the talk--you know, hair in funny places, mood swings, a deeper voice, uncontrollable bloodlust. We've all been there. On the last day, he asks if they can all eat dinner together. They eagerly agree, figuring he's going to announce he won the lottery and they're all going to Disneyworld, thus setting up the last in the long string of disappointments that is his life with them.

Quote :

Mom cooked my favorite food: chicken, roast potatoes, corn on the cob. Annie and me had freshly
squeezed orange juice to drink. Mom and Dad shared a bottle of wine. We had strawberry cheesecake
for dessert. Everybody was in a good mood. We sang songs. Dad cracked terrible jokes. Mom played a
tune with a pair of spoons. Annie recited a few poems. Everybody joined in for a game of charades.

Darren: Then Father turned on his magic lantern and we all enjoyed slides of last year's regatta! It is powered by this ingenious new "ekkeltrissity" thing, and is most peculiar and exciting! Oh, that these halcyon days might last forever!

Seriously, dudes, I know that old-timey shit is part of the draw to vampire stories, but getting bitten does not warp you back in time to 1903. And even if it did, nobody has ever done this in the history of ever.

After the glee club finishes their recital, Darren goes to his room. Crepsley is waiting for him with a potion to make him mostly dead, and we finally get to the money shot.

Quote :

"I am going to snap the neck now," Mr. Crepsley said, and I heard a quick clicking sound as he jerked
my head to one side. I couldn't feel anything: my senses were dead. "There," he said. "That should do it.
Now I am going to throw you out of the window."

He carried me over and stood there a moment with me, breathing in the night air.

"I have to throw you hard enough to make it look genuine," he said. "You might break some bones in the
fall. They will start hurting when the potion wears off after a few days but I will fix them up later on.

"Here we go!"

He picked me up, paused a moment, then hurled me out and down.

...and the spinal cord is severed for good by the fall END OF BOOK YEAAAAAAH

Quote :

Mom nodded, then hurried away with our neighbor. Dad held his smile until she was out of sight, then
bent over me, checked my eyes, and felt my wrist for a pulse. When he found no sign of life, he laid me
back down, brushed a lock of hair out of my eyes, then did something I'd never expected to see.
He started to cry.

And that was how I came to enter a new, miserable phase of my life, namely death.

fucking fuckery everfucking FUCK

(concluded!)

So he's pronounced dead, the undertakers "undress and examime" him, which I'm not even going to dignify with a shudder after all of the other creepiness, and they decide not to embalm him for the sole reason of the plot not falling apart like a house of cards like it should at this point. Then...this happens:

Quote :

Then I felt hands on my face.

He raised my eyelids and shined a small flashlight onto my pupils. The room was too dark for me to see
who he was. He grunted, lowered the lids, then pried open my mouth and laid something on my tongue: it
felt like a piece of thin paper but it had a strange, bitter taste.

After removing the object from my mouth, he picked up my hands and examined the fingertips. Next
there was the sound of a camera taking photos.

Finally he stuck a sharp object it felt like a needle into me. He was careful not to prick me in places
where I would bleed, and stayed away from my vital organs. My senses had partially returned, but not
fully, so the needle didn't cause much pain.

After that, he left. I heard his footsteps crossing the room, as quietly as before, then the door opening
and closing, and that was that. The visitor, whoever it had been, was gone, leaving me puzzled and a little
bit scared.

Even vampires aren't safe from alien experimentation, I guess. (Yeah, we all know it's Steve. Is it so wrong for me to want aliens at this point?)

His father talks to him about the college he would have gone to and the job he would have had, and his mother consoles him in at least having Annie, better know as The Awesome Child Not Dumb as a Bag of Hammers. Annie will go on to become an astronaut cowgirl ballerina with two gorgeous husbands because one isn't enough to sate her awesome desires.

Finally, they bury the little weed, and he thinks back on the plot devices that led him here.

Quote :

There were so many important moments. If I'd missed the ticket, I wouldn't be here. If I hadn't gone to
the show, I wouldn't be here. If I hadn't stuck around to see what Steve was up to, I wouldn't be here. If
I hadn't stolen Madam Octa, I wouldn't be here. If I'd said no to Mr. Crepsley's offer, I wouldn't be
here.

Darren: If the author would pay attention to how I'm pointing out every time he shoehorned in a lame contrivance, I WOULDN'T BE HERE.

Eventually, Crepsley comes to dig him up, working so fast that it's like he's "sucking out the soil", which is a euphemism for felching if e'er I heard one. Crepsley tells him to walk off the last of the potion, out in the graveyard where he's totally vulnerable and unprotected. What could possibly happen?

Quote :

My eyes were stronger than ever before. I was able to read names and dates on headstones from
several yards away. It was the vampire blood in me. After all, didn't vampires spend their whole lives in
the dark? I knew I was only a half-vampire, but all the suddenly, as I was thinking about my new
powers, a hand reached out from behind one of the graves, wrapped itself around my mouth, then
dragged me down to the ground and out of sight of Mr. Crepsley!

I shook my head and opened my mouth to scream, but then saw something that stopped me dead in my
tracks. My attacker, whoever he was, had a hammer and a large wooden stake, the tip of which was
pointing directly at my heart!

Oh yeah, that.

Steve is out vampire hunting, as promised, and threatens Darren with his big stick until he mentions that he's "sore enough without (Steve) making new holes” in him. Really, I don’t even have to type anything anymore, I could just find an INNUENDO emoticon somewhere and spam it after every quote. It turns out the paper was litmus paper, because it changes color when exposed to damp conditions, such as on a living body. Never mind that, you know, dead bodies are pretty clammy too, or that he could’ve just felt his tongue himself, ,or that’s not how litmus paper works. Crepsley comes looking, but Darren yells that he’s just taking a quick rest, and this act of kindness takes, the, er, wind out of Steve’s sails...

Quote :

He didn't look so brave anymore. The tip of the
stake was pointing down at the ground, a threat no more, and his whole body sagged miserably. I felt
sorry for him.

Darren: It’s okay, dude. It happens to everyone sometimes. There’s a pill for it, you know.

Steve accuses Darren of planning this from beginning, then backs off, saying he’s too young and weak to kill him just yet, and the manga’s art goes from passable to WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK SUPERNOVA. But just because he’s down doesn’t mean he’s out!

Quote :

"But heed this, Darren Shan," he said. "I'll grow. I'll get older and stronger and braver. I'm going to
devote my entire life to developing my body and my mind, and when the day comes … when I'm ready
… when I'm fully equipped and properly prepared …

"I'm going to hunt you down and kill you" he vowed. "I'm going to become the world's best vampire
hunter and there won't be a single hole you can find that I won't be able to find, too. Not a hole or a rock
or a cellar.

Darren: I found your MOM’S hole last night. AND her cellar.
Steve: What about her rock?
Darren: What?
Steve: What?

Steve runs into the night, swearing by his blood that he will return, and Darren decides, against his better judgment, not to send Crepsley after him. Oh, what am I saying? Darren doesn’t have a better judgment. His shoulder angels are a stick and a jar of mustard.

The last homoerotic encounter of the book over with, Darren returns to Crepsley, who’s making a half-assed attempt at making it look like a miniature zombie apocalypse didn’t breeze through. Because, y’know, it’s not like they cover over coffins with cement or anyth...oh, never mind, I’m past caring. He shares a tender moment with Darren, consoling him over how difficult it is to leave one’s hometown.

Quote :

"Is the first time the hardest?" I asked.

"Yes," he said, nodding. "But it never gets easy."

"How long before I get used to it?" I wanted to know.

"Maybe a few decades," he said. "Maybe longer."

Decades. He said it as though he was talking of months.

"Can't we ever make friends?" I asked. "Can't we ever have homes or wives or families?"

Crepsley: What do you think you are? And where’s that sandwich I asked for, woman?
Darren: What?
Crepsley: Cock?
Darren: What?
Crepsley: What?

He offers to let Darren ride on his back to their next destination, but he politely declines, proving that perhaps he can be taught. And at long, long last, they fade into the suns...er, moonrise.

Quote :

I rubbed my belly and listened to it growl. "I haven't eaten since Sunday," I told him. "I'm hungry."

"Me too," he said. Then he took my hand in his and grinned bloodthirstily. "Let us go eat ."

I took a deep breath and tried not to think about what would be on the menu. I nodded nervously and
squeezed his hand. We turned and faced away from the graves. Then, side by side, the vampire and his
assistant, we began walking … into the night.

Oh thank GOD. I know I’ve been keeping it deadpan, guys, but that was seriously starting to wear on me. I mean, I was cracking up over here! Any more of that and I might have had to take serious measures. Thank God it’s finally, finally over--

Quote :

TO BE CONTINUED in book 2.

...

...you are not off the hook, series. Oh, no. I will track you down, and I will snark you!

BY THIS JACK DANIELS, I SWEAR IT!

...by...lots and lots...of this Jack Daniels...


Next time: Not even Del knows! Unforged frontiers of creepy fetish content await!

Excellent snarking, Del. I salute you for sacrificing your grey matter for our amusement.

Also, I've known for some time that these books are awful, but I've never actually read one to know why. I'm so glad I didn't.

Delcat wrote:

This is my new meme. And it can also be yours.

I'm not sure if I'll ever stop laughing. Thank you Delly, for being amazing. [You must be registered and logged in to see this image.]