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

What a great snark! I can't wait for the next book.

And dear god I love the meme. I hope there are more manga pages we can mess with in the future XD

Poor Annie. If I was her I'd change my name and move far away so no one would know who I was related to.

Oh boy, it's time for another thirty-four chapters of liquid hell with Darren Shan, Boy Idiot. I'm excited, can't you tell? So's the author, apparently, since this volume has enough balls to include shout-outs.

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For:

Granny and Grandad—tough old fogeys

OBEs (Order of the Bloody Entrails) to:
Caroline "Tracker" Paul
Paul "The Pillager" Litherland

Heads off to:
Biddy "Jekyll" and Liam "Hyde"
Gillie "Grave Robber" Russell
The hideously creepy HarperCollins gang
and
Emma and Chris (from "Ghouls Are Us")

Awwww, isn't that sweet? I'm inspired! Starting right now, I'm starting the OH-DS--the Order of the Hella Drunk Head-Desking Snarkers! I think some of you have already joined me. To be a Platinum Member, follow along in the book here.

As aforementioned, I've read about 1.85 of the books, and this is not one of that 1.85. This is all new, fresh territory just waiting to be explored!

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It was a dry, warm night, and Stanley Collins had decided to walk home after the Boy Scouts meeting. It
wasn't a very long walk — less than a mile — and though the night was dark, he knew every step of the
way as surely as he knew how to tie a reef knot.

Stanley was a scoutmaster. He loved the Scouts. He'd been one when he was a boy and kept in contact
when he grew up. He'd turned his own three sons into first-rate Scouts, and now that they'd grown up
and left home, he was helping the local kids.

...although the Pedobear parallels are familiar, and "Nasty Habits" just came up on my Winamp Shuffle like an old friend.

Stanley is unafraid of the dark night, knowing that his wife is waiting with a delicious cup of hot chocolate and cookies at home. Stanley thinks of how he used to shake the branches of the trees and make scary noises when his kids were walking home at night, afraid, and how he would laugh as they screamed and ran away, because Stanley is a fantastic jackass. Stanley loves the sound of his footsteps on the way home, and thinks of it at night when he can't sleep. Delcat wonders how the hell Darren knows this, as this book is told from a first-person perspective. The author laughs and sticks money in his ears.

Stanley is pulled from his 50's-sitcom reverie by the sound of a snapping twig in the woods. I would too, seeing as despite what city folks think, forest floors are in fact rather soft and you thus have to work pretty fucking hard to actually snap anything on them. Further snapping and crunching reduces him to a quivering mound of man-jelly quite unbefitting a Scoutmaster, and when he runs, the mysterious sound follows him. Oh my God, is it a bear? Is this a book about bears? I would so totally forgive the entire series if they decided to make a book about vampire beaoh of course it's just the twerp.

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"Imagine a man his age wearing a Scout's uniform," Mr. Crepsley snorted as he turned our victim over.

"Were you ever in the Scouts?" I asked.

"They did not have them in my day," he replied.

Darren: Then how are you familiar with them?
Crepsley: Intimately.

Darren and Shan are out a-huntin' for "precious red mercury", which they apparently obtain by sucking on the plaque-filled leg veins of old men. Yeah, guys, vampires are just so glamorous and so sexy. Darren whines about not waaaaanting to suck on the old man leg, and Crepsley briefly maintains that it's perfectly good old man leg and will put hairs on his chest and vampires in Africa would love an old man leg like that, then gives up and drools all over the cut to heal it. So sexy.

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If he found the scar, he'd be more likely to think it was the mark of aliens than a vampire.

Hah. Aliens! Not many people know that vampires started the UFO stories. It was the perfect cover.
People all over the world were waking up to find strange scars on their bodies and were blaming it on
imaginary aliens.

Mr. Crepsley had knocked the scoutmaster out with his breath. Vampires can breathe out a special kind
of gas, which makes people faint. When Mr. Crepsley wanted to put someone to sleep, he breathed into
a cupped fist, then held his hand over the person's nose and mouth. Seconds later they were down for
the count, and wouldn't wake for at least twenty or thirty minutes.

Mr. Crepsley examined the scar and made sure it had healed correctly. He took good care of his
victims.

...well, we're on page seven and already I'm not sure whether to make the "wait what the fucking fuck aliens" joke, the "But vampires can't HAVE garlic breath" joke, or the "Crepsley is a rapist" joke. I guess my secret hope that the series would increase in quality once the author got his sea legs was ill-founded.

Crepsley tells Darren to go find a fox or rabbit to eat (more like a pussy amirite), and Darren continues to contend he'll never drink human blood. Crepsley wonders out loud if it's all that different from drinking human semen. Darren tells him to shut his fat whore mouth.

Back at the hotel, Darren provides some exposition. He's currently traveling around the country as Crepsley's half-vampire assistant and learning the ropes of being a pale, friendless creature of the night...well, reviewing them, more like. Most of the vampire lore is untrue--while they can travel at high speed, a process known as "flitting", they can't fly or change shape. They can't be hurt by holy water, crosses, or garlic, they cast shadows, they have reflections (probably because the author realized Darren saw himself in the mirror at the end of the last book and went "OH SHI--"), they don't even grow fangs...gosh, guys, I'm starting to wonder why I'm majoring in Vampire at all. Oh well, at least I've still got my Were-lemming minor to fall back on. There are a few nuggets of truth in the lore, though:

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A vampire couldn't be photographed or filmed with a video
camera. There's something odd about vampire atoms, which means all that comes out on film is a dark
blur. I could still be photographed, but you wouldn't get a clear photo of me, no matter how good the
light.

Editor: Sir, this part is a bit dodgy. You can't just shoehorn the word "atoms" into something and make it sound scientific.
Author: IS SO SCIENTIFIC! LOOKEE SEE!
Editor: ...sir, this is just a copy of the Periodic Table of the Elements with "Oxygen" crossed off and "Vampirium" written in. ...and, I notice, the entire Lanthanide Series scribbled out so someone could write "I AM SO FUCKING AWESOME" over them.
Author: WELL MAYBE YOU SHOULD LOOK AT ELEMENT NUMBER 18 AND SEE WHAT HE SAYS
Editor: I don't believe "Yousuckium" is a noble gas, sir.

The tl;dr goes on--dogs and cats hate vampires, but rats and bats will cuddle them at night (I think that says more about your personal hygiene, Darren), it takes four or five hours for sunlight to crispy-fry a vampire but they sunburn within fifteen minutes, they're vulnerable stakes and drowning and bullets and knives and electricity and certain diseases (clearly not rabies, but the jury's out on the HIV), and--

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There was more I had to learn. A lot more. Mr. Crepsley said it would be years before I knew
everything and was able to function by myself. He said a half-vampire who didn't know what he was
doing would be dead within a couple of months, so I had to stick to him like glue, even if I didn't want to.

--and that isn't creepy at all, no, no. I have an underage boy totally dependent on me myself and I don't let him out of my sight either. That's why the lock to his door is on the outside, because I have to keep him safe from all those horrible outside people because he's my PRECIOUS LITTLE BOY AND I WILL NOT HAVE HIM TAINTED BY THOSE FILTHY WHORES IN THE OUTSIDE WORLD AND HE'D BETTER NOT CALL THE POLICE OR

...sorry, where was I?

Meanwhile, in the manga, I'm torn between thinking their depiction of Crepsley is kinda cute and being freaked out by the size of his shoulders. We all know what rapidly expanding shoulders means, right? I will note that Darren and Crepsley have much more of a rapport in the manga, actually talking to each other beyond "I HATE YOU" "STFU I HATE YOU MORE". I really wish someone would scan the rest of it, this is the last chapter available.

Oh hell, we're back to exposition. If vampires don't drink human blood, they age at twenty to thirty times the human rate--hey, that's one way of getting through puberty. Vampires can drink the blood of most animals, but there's a highly arbitrary list of animals they can't drink from--cats, monkeys, frogs, most fish, and snakes. Most fish. Pufferfish are fine, guppies are okay on alternate Tuesdays, and putting blobfish out of their misery is considered a polite social act.

Back on the topic of exposition that we might actually be forced to care about, vampires who drink only when they must are more likely to fall into bloodlust, "sucking wildly". ...too easy, too easy, too easy oh hell I'm allowed I GUESS THIS SERIES HASN'T BEEN GETTING ENOUGH BLOOD LATELY sorry I had to sorry. Blood goes bad like milk goes bad when someone dies...I guess that's...kind of accurate, sort of...Crepsley keeps bottled fresh blood on hand and can survive on it for a while, how the hell does he keep it from clotting...oh my God we just spent an ENTIRE CHAPTER JUST TALKING ABOUT BLOOD. DO SOMETHING.

Finally, after revealing that he doesn't like Madam Octa anymore (your fucking loss, you ingrate) and that he often thinks about staking Crepsley while he sleeps, Darren goes into town. Surely this has to lead to some kind of action.

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I stopped to watch, and after a few minutes one of the guys came over to me.

"Where are you from?" he asked.

"Out of town," I said. "I'm staying at a hotel with my father." I hated calling Mr. Crepsley that, but it was
the safest thing to say.

That is not the kind of action I was talking about. I did not need to know that Crepsley makes Darren call him "daddy". Gah.

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I had a great time for a while, dominating play, rushing back to defend, picking players out with pinpoint
passes. I scored a couple of goals and set up four more. We were leading 9-7 and coasting. The other
team hated it. They made us give them two of our best players, but it made no difference. I could have
given them everybody except our goalie and still kicked their butts.

Oh great, becoming a vampire doesn't preclude the author whacking his little Dracula to overblown sports Stu-ness. Wait, I thought it did. Wasn't there a reason Darren stopped playing? Something important? Something like...like...

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There was a sharp snapping sound. Danny screamed and went down. Play stopped immediately.
Everybody in the game knew the difference between a yell of pain and a scream of real agony.
I scrambled to my feet, already sorry for what I'd done, wishing I could take it back. I looked at my
stick, hoping to find it broken in two, hoping that had been what made the snapping noise. But it wasn't.

I'd broken both of Danny's shinbones.

His lower legs were bent awkwardly and the skin around the shins was torn. I could see the white of
bone in among the red.

...like he got a note from his mom? Yeah, that was it--what? Not that? The bone-snapping thing? Oh! Oh yeah, that! I can see how that might be a problem, yeah.

Darren laments being a monster, then runs home and tells Crepsley that they have to leave before the fuzz shows up to harsh their buzz. Taking this to mean that the authorities have realized that Darren's his "special friend", Crepsley flees with him to an abandoned church, where Darren takes his mind off his troubles by cleaning headstones and being a fantastic jackass to cute bunnies. No, seriously.

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A family of rabbits lived in a nearby burrow. As the day went by, they crept closer to see what I was up
to. They were curious little guys, especially the young ones. At one point, I pretended to be asleep and a
couple edged closer and closer, until they were only a few feet away.

When they were as close as they would probably come, I leaped up and shouted, "Boo!" and they went
running away like wildfire. One fell head over heels and rolled away down the mouth of the burrow.

That totally cheered me up.

Darren, you are officially no longer protagonist material. Either a) go all the way and start kicking puppies, b) stop being an asshole to small animals, or c) become awesome enough to graduate from "fantastic jackass" to "magnificent bastard". If you refuse to comply, we may be forced to pants you and drag you around the track on general principle and a daily basis.

He does give the rabbits the scraps when he makes stew in Crepsley's Amazing Foldable Plot Device Cookware that night, which totally makes up for little Thumper rolling down a steep burrow and snapping his sweet little neck. When Crepsley wakes up to dinner freshly-made, he comments that he "could get used to this". And here he thought Darren would only take care of that other wifely duty! But things quickly turn sour, as Darren starts whining about how he can never be nooooormal or have any frieeeeends and Crespley "pumped his stinking blood" into hiiiiiim and wrecked his liiiiiiiiife, BAWWW[You must be registered and logged in to see this link.] There's a silence, in which Crepsley probably wonders why he didn't go with a nice, smart kid like Annie and Darren tries not to cry like the little pussy he is. Sensing he'd better patch things up or he's not gonna get any tonight, Crepsley at last speaks up.

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"I am sorry," he said. "I should not have blooded you. It was a poor call. You were too young. It has
been so long since I was a boy, I had forgotten what it was like. I never thought of your friends and how
much you would miss them. It was wrong of me to blood you. Terribly wrong. I …"

He trailed off into silence. He looked so miserable, I almost felt sorry for him. Then I remembered what
he'd done to me and I hated him again. Then I saw wet drops at the corners of his eyes that might have
been tears, and I felt sorry for him again.

Crepsley: Well, nothing for it. I'll just have to put you out of your misery like the last five boys.
Darren: NO LONGER FEELING SORRY FOR YOU
Crepsley: HOLD STILL AND LET ME SNAP YOUR NECK THIS HURTS ME MORE THAN IT HURTS YOU

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"Still," he said, mulling it over, "it is not as bad as you think. Perhaps …" His eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

"Perhaps what?" I asked.

"We can find friends for you," he said. "You do not have to be stuck with me all the time."

"I don't understand." I frowned. "Didn't we just agree it wasn't safe for me to be around humans?"

"I am not talking about humans," he said, starting to smile. "I am talking about people with special
powers. People like us. People you can tell your secrets to …"

He leaned across and took my hands in his.

"Darren," he said, "what do you think about...

Crepsley: ...meeting the rest of my pedophile ring?
Darren: What?!
Crepsley: I mean, joining the Cirque du Freak. ...why, what did I say?


Next time: The series remembers it's about to be a freakshow and junk! Sorry if this one was dull, guys, hopefully there'll be more to work with once the book picks up steam.

Thank you so much for continuing this! I already can't wait to see what kind of hackneyed adventures the author puts these two through next (My money's on Darren falling in love with a strange fempire named "Sharon Dawn", with tragic results).

Which book in the series is this, btw?

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We all know what rapidly expanding shoulders means, right?

...Maybe it's a good thing the manga stops right after this, then.

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vampire atoms

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I'm starting to have crazy vampire dreams thanks to this thing. Thankfully, they're crazy vampire sex dreams, so I haven't been scared off just yet.

Before I go on, though, a brief rant. I didn't mention before, but I'm really perplexed as to how they've only just decided to rejoin the troupe. I mean, what the hell were they doing? Just tooling around the countryside? The hell kind of a way is that to spend eternity? And Darren mentioned that Crepsley always has money for things, so where the hell is he getting it? Did he put aside just enough cash to sustain himself in case he was briefly inconvenienced by the plot? Didn't he have a plan for when he got Madam Octa back? It's so painfully clear that the author knew there was going to be a Point A and a Point B but didn't give a tin shit about how the two were connected. It's like he started writing and realized he had a problem and decided to just keep going instead of starting over or fixing it. It's just...so...STUPID. It's so stupid I can't even make fun of its stupidity, I can just sit back and stare in puzzled rage.

[15:38] Delcat: What the hell were they doing? Just...tooling around?
[15:39] Zeiss: Honeymooning.

Thankfully, Zeiss is always ready to snap me out of it. Thanks for being my cheap Pedobear joke wingman, buddy, you know how to keep it real. Oh, and since he suggested I should clarify, this is Vampire's Assistant, and the last book was A Living Nightmare. Thanks for pointing out my lack of subtitles, dude.

Anyway, they take the night to talk it out. Crepsley will take up his Madam Octa act again, and Darren can do grunt work for his room and blood. Crepsley searches out Mr. Tall's "aura", because vampires are psychic when it's convenient for them, I guess.

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He sat down in the middle of the church and closed his eyes. He was quiet for about a minute. Then his
eyelids opened and he stood.

"Got him," he said.

"So soon?" I asked. "I thought it would take longer."

"I have searched for his aura many times," Mr. Crepsley explained. "I know what to look for. Finding
him is as easy as finding a needle in a haystack."

"That's supposed to be hard, isn't it?"

"Not for a vampire," he said.

I really want to think that this is related to the fairly obscure bit of mythology stating that vampires have a kind of supernatural OCD, and thus spilling a bag of rice or speading newspapers around your bed is a good deterrent, since they'll be unable to attack you until they count or read every grain or word, by which point the sun will probably be up anyway. Why? Because the alternative is that the author is literally just typing whatever the fuck is coming into his head now, and I'm not quite ready to accept that yet.

Darren, perhaps wondering what their wedding is going to be like, asks Crepsley a Very Important Question. Crepsley proceeds to make shit up.

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I took a deep breath. "Do you believe in God?" I asked.

Mr. Crepsley looked at me oddly, then nodded slowly. "I believe in the gods of the vampires."

I frowned. "There are vampire gods?"

"Of course," he said. "Every culture has gods: Egyptian gods, Indian gods, Chinese gods. Vampires are
no different."

"What about heaven?" I asked.

"We believe in Paradise. It lies beyond the stars. When we die, if we have lived good lives, our spirits
float free of the earth, cross the stars and galaxies, and come at last to a wonderful world at the other
side of the universe — Paradise."

"And if they don't live good lives?"

"They stay here," he said. "They remain bound to earth as ghosts, doomed to wander the face of this
planet forever."

Darren: MR. CREPSLEY MR. CREPSLEY
Crepsley: ugh God what
Darren: DO YOU BELIEVE IN GOD??
Crepsley: Sure. Sure, I believe in God. Vampire God.
Darren: OMFG HOW DOES THAT WORK??
Crepsley: He, uh...takes all the good vampires and turns them into Katamaris and throws them into the sky and they become stars.
Darren: WHAT IF THEY ARE DANGEROUS BAD VAMPIRES??
Crepsley: I don't know they become ghosts or something what have I told you about asking theological questions while my cock is in your ass

Darren asks what constitutes a good life for a vampire, and Crepsley bullshits a few rules about living cleanly, not killing unless necessary, not hurting people, and not "spoiling the world". Yeah, kind of failing on those last two, series. Drinking blood doesn't count as an evil act unless it kills the person you drink from, and it might even be okay then, which blows Darren away.

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"Killing someone can begood ?" I gasped.

Mr. Crepsley nodded seriously. "People have souls, Darren. When they die, those souls go to heaven or
Paradise. But it is possible to keep a part of them here. When we drink small amounts of blood, we do
not take any of a person's essence. But if we drink lots, we keep part of them alive within us."

"How?" I asked, frowning.

"By draining a person's blood, we absorb some of that person's memories and feelings," he said. "They
become part of us, and we can see the world the way they saw it and remember things which might
otherwise have been forgotten."

Darren: So that's why you told me to always swallow?
Crepsley: Yeah, that's right, memories and feelings and shit. Now get back down there and get to work, I feel a memoir coming on.

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"One of my dearest friends is called Paris Skyle," he said. "He is very old. Many
centuries ago, he was friends with William Shakespeare."

"TheWilliam Shakespeare — the guy who wrote the plays?"

Mr. Crepsley nodded. "Plays and poems. But not all of Shakespeare's poetry was recorded; some of
his most famous verses were lost. When Shakespeare was dying, Paris drank from him — Shakespeare
asked him to — and was able to tap into those lost poems and have them written down. The world
would have been a poorer place without them."

Shakespeare: Ah Skyle, my friend, how kindly thou'st sucked my blood/But o, I fear that now you have the syph.
Skyle: FFFFUUUUUU--

Incredibly clumsy attempts at iambic pentameter behind them, the vampiric duo set off, Darren riding on Crepsley's back as he "flits". This is apparently the vampire version of the Knight Bus, as it consists of running at impossible speeds while mysteriously not being seen by anyone. Unlike the Knight Bus, there's no whimsical spell handy to explain how they manage to detect objects early enough to avoid reducing themselves to a smear of vampiric paste on a 7-11 wall. They pass some campers protesting a new road, which would probably be foreshadowing in any other book, but could go other way here due to the author having the same love of random observations as an ADHD-afflicted two-year-old on a day trip.

Reaching the Cirque, they're greeted by Mr. Tall and invited into his van. No really, I swear to God, they go into his van to talk. I know it's getting hard to tell the pedophile jokes from the actual pedophilia, but you've gotta bear with me--or should I say Pedo-bear with me? Hahahahaha...haaaaa.

...right. Turns out Mr. Tall's first name is Hibernius, because his parents didn't think being physically different from all the other kids would earn him enough beatings at school. Personally, I'll be calling him "Mr. T" from here on out, and I pity the foo' that challenges me on it. They chat a bit, and Crepsley asks if they can join up.

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"Of course," Mr. Tall replied immediately. "Delighted to have you back, actually. We're a bit
understaffed at the moment. Alexander Ribs, Sive and Seersa, and Gertha Teeth are off on vacations or
business. Cormac Limbs is on his way to join Us but is late getting here. Larten Crepsley and his amazing
performing spider will be an invaluable addition to the lineup."

Alexander Ribs, Gertha Teeth, Hans Hands, Cormac Limbs, Rhamus Twobellies...by your powers combined, I am Captain Anatomy! Why does this rhyming scheme sound familiar, anyway?

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Congratulations, author, you are officially just as good a writer as a five-year-old possibly mentally retarded very special alive stuffed animal otter. You are a special boy, author, you are a special boy.

Mr. T says that they'll be playing in the field in the middle of nowhere that they're currently camped in, which surprises Darren, but he maintains that they always get a large audience. He does admit that it's a slow time of year, especially since "several of our best performers are absent, as are … certain other members of our company." Mr. T and Crepsley exchange a "secretive look" over this statement. Darren feels left out. Del fails to care.

Crepsley asks if the campers are causing any trouble--oh, look, it actually IS relevant, miracle of miracles.

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"What's NOP?" I asked.

"Nature's Opposing Protectors," Mr. Tall explained. "They're ecowarriors. They run around the country
trying to stop new roads and bridges from being built. They've been here a couple of months but are due
to move on soon."

"Are they real warriors?" I asked. "Do they have guns and grenades and tanks?"

The two adults almost laughed their heads off.

Mr. T: Oh my God, is he for real? No, no, he has to be a troll!
Crepsley: No, seriously, he's a decent lay but he's dumber than a sack of vampiric hammers. Let's pants him and drag him around the track.
Darren: I don't feel like this is a nurturing environment anymore :<
Crepsley: I'll nurture your environment if you don't get me a sandwich, woman!

(continued)

After they finish having a hearty laugh at Darren's expense and Crepsley contends that he's not as dumb as he sounds (well played, sir, you may get some yet), Mr. T explains that the warriors are just Green Peace Lite. Darren tries to ask more questions, because he never saw the episode of Wishbone where they chain themselves to that really old tree with the tire swing because a greedy developer wants to bulldoze it down and build an ice cream store where it was why do I remember that, but Crepsley points out that the sun's going to come up and they'd best make like trees and leaf before they make like crispy critters and fry in their own juices. Mr. T inquires as to whether Darren needs his own coffin, and Darren refuses.

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Mr. Crepsley smiled. "Put Darren in with one of the other performers," he said. "Somebody his own age,
if possible."

Mr. Tall thought a moment. "How about Evra?"

Mr. Crepsley's smile spread. "Yes. I think putting him in with Evra is a marvelous idea."

"Who's Evra?" I asked nervously.

"You will find out," Mr. Crepsley promised, opening the door to the van. "I will leave you to Mr. Tall.
He will take care of you. I have to be away."

...I...you know what? I'm not even gonna bother. This only page 23 of the second book, I need to reserve some pedo jokes or I'm gonna run out.

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"Hello?" I whispered. "Are you Evra? I'm Darren Shan. I'm your new —"

I stopped. The slithering noise had reached my feet. As I stood rooted to the spot, something fleshy and
slimy wrapped itself around my legs. I instantly knew what it was but didn't dare look down until it had
climbed more than halfway up my body. Finally, as its coils curled around my chest, I worked up the
courage to look down and stare into the eyes of a long, thick, hissing …

See? I'm really having to pick my battles here, guys. If it keeps up at this rate, I'm gonna need a spreadsheet and day planner to make sure I pace myself properly.

You'd think that Darren would be used to long, thick, fleshy, slimy things by this point, but he ends up standing stock-still for a full hour because he doesn't want to disturb the snake. I would say that he's a pansy and that he should know that snakes of that size are constrictors, not venomous, and the worst thing you can do is let it keep wrapping around you, but given the series' biology record, it probably spits acid directly from his eyes and he did the right thing. Eventually, the snake boy wakes up and enjoys a hearty laugh at Darren's expense.

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He swung down out of the hammock, crossed the tent, took hold of the snake's head, and began
unwrapping it. "You're okay," he assured me. "In fact, you were never in danger. The snake's been
asleep the whole time. You could have tugged her off and she wouldn't have stirred. She's a deep
sleeper."

Evra: Incidentally, you can tug me off in my sleep anytime.
Darren: Hey, that's Crepsley's schtick!

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"She's asleep?" I squeaked. "But … how come she wrapped herself around me?"

He smiled. "She sleepcrawls."

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The snake boy's just the same as he was the last time Darren saw him--still thin, still scaly, and still wearing nothing but a little pair of shorts. I want to make a smart remark about losing body heat, but I'm not sure how it'd translate and it'd probably just end up with Grimbles facepalming at me. He introduces himself as Evra Von ("Von what?" "Just plain Von.") and invites Darren out to eat. I would make a joke about Crepsley getting jealous, but he's clearly into that scene. They join a couple of other freaks at a campfire, and they immediately make a fuss over meeting the Darren Shan. Who knew freaks liked soccer?

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Hans laughed pleasantly. "Half-vampires are nothing new. If I had a silver dollar for every half-vampire
I'd seen, I'd have …" He scrunched up his face and thought. "Twenty-nine silver dollars. Butyoung
half-vampires are a different story. I never saw or heard of a guy your age living it up among the ranks of
the walking dead. Tell me: Have the Vampire Generals been around to inspect you yet?"

aaaahahahaha cough sorry sorry still trying to get used to that

Before Darren can ask about the pffft Vampire Generals hahahaha, a washerwoman reprimands Hans for talking about them. Presumably it's taboo to mention their names because it's hard to work when you're giggling uncontrollably. Instead, he asks if Darren would like some sausages or if he's a vegetarian, then laughs at the idea of a vegetarian vampire, because one of the few things this series has going for it is that it's still better than Twilight. Darren happily accepts the sausage, blowing on it to cool it and...no, dangit, no! Not going there! Must resist!

After Evra has introduced Darren around, Mr. T stops by to take stock of his potential value to the troupe. Conclusion: Jack shit. He gives up and tells him to help Evra with his chores until he learns some life skills other than whining and breaking the shins of small children.

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"Very well. It's settled. Evra will be in charge of you until further notice. Do what he says. When your
colleague-in-blood arises," — he meant Mr. Crepsley — "you're free to spend the night with him if he so
desires. We'll see how you do, then make a decision on how best to utilize your talents."

Grrrgh...no, no, keep it together, Del, you can do this, you can hold back...you don't need to go there, you can find something else to snark it, you can take the high road...

Quote :

"What do we do first?" I asked.

"What we'll be doing first every morning," Evra said. "Milking the poison from the fangs of my snake."

...n-no...no, I can do this, I can avoid the milking joke, I can avoid the trouser snake joke...

Quote :

"Oh," I said. "Is it dangerous?"

"Only if she bites before we finish," Evra said, then laughed at my expression and pushed me ahead of
him to the tent.

It's okay that happens to a lot of guNO NO NO I CAN DO THIS I CAN HOLD OUT

Quote :

Evra did the milking himself — to my great relief — then we brought the snake outside and laid her on
the grass. We grabbed buckets of water and scrubbed her down with really soft sponges.

...

...

...COOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOCKS COCK COCK COCKERY COCK COCK COOOOOOOCKSslajfljjfa;kk;';';';';';';';';';';';';';';';';';';';';';';';';';';';';';';';';';';';';';';';';';'


Next time: Del returns from a nice, long, police-assisted lie-down, no longer overwhelmed by sex joke overflow. Will the endless innuendo drive her over the edge again?

You already know the answer to that question. :hmm:

Oh, I'm sure this is nothing more than a simple PTDD relapse. Just try to avoid bananas or anything with hinges for a few days and you should be fine.

That said:

Spoiler:

Zeiss Manifold wrote:

Oh, I'm sure this is nothing more than a simple PTDD relapse. Just try to avoid bananas or anything with hinges for a few days and you should be fine.

That said:

Spoiler:

Dammit, Zeiss, are you trying to make her have a relapse! [You must be registered and logged in to see this image.]

There, there, Del. It'll all be okay. We'll find some nice books about sweet little fluffy kittens for you to read, and you'll be better in no time. [You must be registered and logged in to see this image.]

Del, I think I am going to die laughing here. On the bright side, maybe that'll get Wolf to come back to the forum, since he'd have to investigate my death. Right now, he just thinks I'm crazy and that these books must be very disturbing.

I need to not read your snark while I'm at work. It's hard enough to explain why I'm laughing without trying to explain what pedobear is.

Oh Delly! Delcat, my love! Look what I found lurking in the dark corners of the internet!

The Vampire's Assistant Screening Sweepstakes

That's right, they're making a movie of it. With a guy playing Darren who looks a whole helluva lot like Robert Patterson, and some chick in black that, if she's actually in the book, hasn't been mentioned yet.

And it's a sweepstakes! You can win a chance for you and everyone at your school to get a sneak peak at the movie. Plus, one of the actors will be there, though I doubt it'll be the Robert Patterson look-alike. More likely the red-headed weirdo who I think is supposed to be Mr. Crepsley, though he looks nothing like he did in the scans you've posted.

If you thought it was a shitty manga, just imagine what a shitty movie they can make out of it! [You must be registered and logged in to see this image.]

Rabid Badger wrote:

And it's a sweepstakes! You can win a chance for you and everyone at your school to get a sneak peak at the movie. Plus, one of the actors will be there, though I doubt it'll be the Robert Patterson look-alike. More likely the red-headed weirdo who I think is supposed to be Mr. Crepsley, though he looks nothing like he did in the scans you've posted.

Um, Crepsley is being played by John C. Reilly, who is afaik the only recognizable name out of all of them (I like John C. Reilly, generally). I doubt they'd send him instead of what's-his-face the kid.

Rabid Badger wrote:

That's right, they're making a movie of it.

*cough*

Delcat, two pages ago, wrote:

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.

I have recurring dream landscapes, including a shopping district. The other night, I noticed a Darren Shan-themed coffee shop/ice cream parlor run by fangirls had established itself in it. I'm starting to worry about the long-term effects of this project.


But, of course, the show must go on. And before any show, the performers must be fed. After Evra's snake has been well-milked, the two bring raw meat to the wolfman, who's kept permanently caged to keep him from eating babies and also peeing on the good rug.

Quote :

"Isn't it cruel to keep him chained up?" I asked, throwing him another slice of meat.

"If we didn't, he'd run free and kill people. The mix of human and wolf blood has driven him mad. He
wouldn't just kill when he was hungry; if he was free, he'd murder all the time."

"Isn't there a cure?" I asked, feeling sorry for him.

"There isn't a cure because it isn't a disease," Evra explained. "This isn't something he caught, it's how he
was born. This is what he is."

"How did it happen?" I asked.

Evra looked at me seriously. "Do you really want to know?"

Darren: ...yes?
Evra: Look, it's not something we talk about. There was vodka and a rasher of bacon in a very unfortunate place and things kind of escalated from there.

Seriously, are they fucking over biology again or did they just handwave away a bestiality reference or both? How the hell did this get past the editors? Why do I get the uneasy feeling bistromath was involved? Unfortunately, Darren decides he doesn't really want the details, so I guess we'll never know.

They wander about the camp doing odd jobs, peeling freak potatoes, repairing freak cars, painting the roof of a van with freak paint, and walking a freak dog. Freakily. ...okay yeah they're just ordinary odd jobs, thrilling. They do bring Rhamus Twobellies a bag of broken glass for lunch, which makes me think of The Enigma and wish I was watching the freakshow episode of X-Files instead of reading this shit. In between jobs, they swap life stories.

Quote :

Evra had been born to ordinary parents. They were horrified when they saw him. They abandoned him
at an orphanage, where he stayed until an evil circus owner bought him at the age of four.

Evil Circus Owner: Excuse me, I would like to buy a child, preferably of a freakish nature.
Orphanage Owner: We do not sell children here, sir. Adoption is a complex governmental process used to transfer legal guardianship to parents who have been thoroughly investigated and deemed suitable for the role. You, on the other hand, are visibly drunk and haven't stopped twirling your mustache and cackling once since you came in here.
Evil Circus Owner: Oh, come on, you must have a dumpster I can rummage through or something.
Orphanage Owner: Well, the Biological Impossibilities Box is getting a little crowded...
Evil Circus Owner: Five bucks and whatever's left in this bottle?
Orphanage Owner: Throw in half your mustache and we have a deal.

Evra was stuck in a glass cage being poked and laughed at for seven years before Mr. Tall showed up, killed off his owner, and rescued him. I had this exact same idea for a plot once...specifically, when I was thirteen. Considering it was an early H/C fantasy, I'm feeling uncomfortable about the fetish content...again.

Quote :

"Do you want to see something amazing?" he finally said, snapping out of his thoughtful mood.

"Sure," I said.

He turned to face me, then stuck out his tongue and pushed it up over his lip and right up his nose!

"Ewww! Gross!" I yelled delightedly.

He pulled the tongue back and grinned. "I've got the longest tongue in the world," he said. "If my nose
were big enough, I could poke my tongue all the way to the top, down my throat, and back out my
mouth again."

...although not nearly as uncomfortable as I feel now.

Quote :

"I don't have any snot," Evra said.

"What? No snot?"

"It's true," he said. "My nose is different from yours. There's no snot or dirt or hairs. My nostrils are the
cleanest part of my whole body."

"What does it taste like?" I asked.

"Lick my snake's belly and you'll find out," he replied. "It's the same taste as that."

I laughed and said I wasn't that interested!

Evra: Oh, you don't want to...that...that's cool, I just thought you...you know, since you don't have a problem milking it...
Darren: I have standards, honey. Take me out to dinner and then we can talk.
Evra: Okay, I still have to break up with my old boyfriend anyway.
Big Boss: Hey...this isn't a reticulated python at all!

A few days go by, and Darren's powers start dulling since he still hasn't had any human blood. Darren, didn't you almost rape devour your sister the last time you did this? Are you seriously that incapable of learning? ...right, right, who am I talking to...

Quote :

I watched the boy in the bushes. He was trying hard not to be seen, but to someone with my powers —
fading though they were — he was as obvious as an elephant. I was curious to know what he was doing,
so I turned to Evra and said, "Let's have fun."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Lean in and I'll tell you."

I whispered my plan in his ear. He grinned and nodded, then stood and pretended to yawn.

"I'm leaving, Darren," he said. "See you later."

"See you, Evra," I replied loudly. I waited until he was gone, then stood and walked back to the camp
myself.

When I was out of sight of the boy in the bushes, I went back, using the vans and tents to hide my
movements. I walked about a hundred yards to the left, then crept forward until I could see the boy and
sneaked toward him.

I stopped ten yards away. I was a little behind him, so he couldn't see me. His eyes were still glued to
the camp. I looked over his head and saw Evra, who was even closer than I was. He made an "okay"
sign with his thumb and index finger.

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

Quote :

"Ohh-ohh-ohh," I snorted, like a gorilla.

"I'm not afraid," the boy said, edging backward. "You're just somebody playing a mean trick."

"Eee-ee-ee-ee-ee," Evra screeched.

I shook a branch, Evra rattled a bush, then I tossed a stone into the area just ahead of the boy. His head
was spinning around like a puppet's, darting all over the place. He didn't know whether it would be safer
to run or stay.

"Look, I don't know who you are," he began, "but I'm —"

Evra snuck up behind him and now, as the boy spoke, stuck out his extra-long tongue and ran it over the
boy's neck, making a hissing snake noise.

That was enough for the boy. He screamed and ran for his life.

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

Potential rape defused (kind of), the boy hauls ass until he faceplants into tall grass and disappears. When he doesn't reappear, the boys go after them, only to be shoved from behind by the kid. Apparently he was only pretending to be scared by their crazy mini-Pedobear antics the entire time. Wait, does that means he totally wanted it? In any case, the three share a hearty laugh.

Quote :

"I suppose you think this is funny," I snarled. He nodded silently. "Well, I've got news for you," I said,
stepping closer, putting on the meanest face I could. I paused menacingly, then burst into a smile. "It is!"

Darren: :D
Boy: :|
Darren: :D
Boy: :|
Darren: :D
Boy: okay yeah you guys are really lame. I'm going home. Don't follow me.
Darren: :< ?
Evra: This happens to you a lot, doesn't it, Darren.
Darren: I JUST WANT TO BE LOVED.

Kid's name turns out to be Sam Grest, and the two welcome him in as a friend. To save the reader all that troublesome "making character judgements" and "predicting plot developments" business, Darren immediately states as the chapter-ender that while Sam did become his friend, "by the time the Cirque Du Freak moved on, I was wishing with all my heart that I'd never even heard his name." Gee, that's really all I've ever wanted in a series--a plot that spoils itself. Book 12 probably starts off with the line "The butler did it" and the instructions to throw the book aside and save yourself the trouble.

Sam quickly outs himself as a kid of the hippies 'cause, like, his parents think "children should be free to express their individuality" and junk, and that "school's a despotic system of indoctrination, designed to crush the spirit and stamp out creativity", and while it's not stated as such, probably "the brown acid wasn't that bad, maaaaan, not really". Far out, dudes. He also has two younger brothers, a baby sister, three dogs, five cats, a turtle, and a tank full of tropical fish, because the book is suddenly a first-grader's "ALL ABOUT ME!" paper. He also loves pickled onions, which had better be a plot point 'cause wtf. He asks what kind of show they're running, hoping the answer is "lezzie".

Quote :

"We're masters of the macabre," Evra said. "Agents of mutations. Lords of the surreal." He was
speaking like that to show he could match Sam's big vocabulary. I wish I could have spouted a few
smarty-pants sentences, but I'd never been good with words.

Darren: WE MAKE THE SCARY WITH DUDES WHAT GOT TEETH AND THEN PEOPLES GO YAAAAAAAY AND ARMS FALL OFF.
Sam: what
Darren: AND THEN MR. CREPSLEY HAS ME DO THE SPECIAL SHOW WITH THE FISHNETS IN OUR PLACE WHERE WE KEEP THE BEDS.
Sam: ...what.

Quote :

"A freak show?" His jaw dropped open and a piece of pickled onion fell out. I had to move quickly to
dodge it. "Two-headed men and weirdos like that?"

"Sort of," I said, "but our performers are magical, wonderful artists, not just people who look different."

"Cool!" He glanced at Evra. "Of course, I could see from the start that you were dermatologically
challenged," — he was talking about Evra's skin (I looked the word up in a dictionary later) — "but I had
no idea there might be other members like you among your company."

He looked over toward the camp, eyes bright with curiosity. "This is most fascinating." He sighed. "What
other bizarre examples of the human form do your numbers include?"

Darren: THESE FREAKS ARE SPECIAL! WE DIDN'T MAKE THESE FREAKS FOR THE LIKES OF YOU!
Sam: 'scuse me I'm just gonna flip-flop back and forth between an average ten-year-old and a stereotypical brainy kid at a moment's notice now, it's a condition
Evra: I'm not challenged, I'm just bad at the book-learnin' :<

Evra goes through the list of freaks and their descriptions. Instead of explaining why their biology is impossible every five minutes like a really smart kid would do, Sam listens in excitement and fascination, then begs to join the circus after he's done, claiming his parents say travel broadens the mind and they wouldn't care. Evra refuses, stating that he's too young. God, it's about time someone said that about one of the boys in this series...

Quote :

"It's not fair," he grumbled. "People always say 'when you're older.' Where would the world be if Alexander the Great had waited until he was older? And how about Joan of Arc? If she'd waited until
she was older, the English might have conquered and colonized France. Who decides when someone's
old enough to make decisions for himself? It should come down to the individual."

...author, what are you trying to say here, exactly?

Quote :

He ranted on for a while longer, complaining about adults and the "corrupt frigging system" and about the
time being ripe for a young people's revolution. It was like listening to a crazy politician on TV.
"If a kid wants to open a candy factory, let him open one," Sam stormed. "If he wants to become a
football star, fine. If he wants to be an explorer and set off for strange, cannibal-populated islands, okay!
We're the slaves of the modern generation. We're —"
"Sam," Evra interrupted. "Do you want to come see my snake?"
Sam broke out into a smile. "Do I?" he yelled. "I thought you'd never ask. C'mon, let's go."

*sigh* Never mind, just...never mind.

Quote :

Sam thought the snake was the coolest thing he'd ever seen. He wasn't at all scared and didn't hesitate to
wrap her around his neck like a scarf.

Evra: CONSTRICTOR! CONSTRICTOR!
Sam: MY EYEBALLS TASTE LIKE EXPLODING

The two show him around the rest of the circus after showing him the snake, letting him watch a couple of the freaks practicing their acts. Darren notes that he would have showed him some of Madam Octa's tricks, but the lack of human blood is making him anemic and he doesn't want to lose his concentration with her and end up with another Mr. Corpsey incident. HOLY HELL, HE CAN ACTUALLY BE TAUGHT. On the other hand, we're still on a crash course with Planet Rape- Devour-a-Child, so it's a hollow victory.

As the sky darkens, the two older boys tell Sam to go home, but the little barnacle clings to their legs, wanting more of the heady potato-peeling life that he's caught a tantalizing glimpse of. Evra manages to change his mind off by saying they have to give the wolfman a bath and loss of limbs might be involved, and Darren tells him he can come back tomorrow. After he leaves, Evra briefly discusses why he couldn't fit in, and that while it isn't for many people, his place is in the Cirque. Awww, home is where the heatlamp is.

Then, out of nowhere, the gay midget prostitutes appear, bearing torches. ...yeah, try that sentence out of context in polite company. Apparently they keep to themselves and leave the show periodically, and have just returned, bringing with them a sinister guest...

Quote :

The blue-hooded people passed by silently. As the mysterious thirteenth person approached, I noticed
he was dressed differently from the others. He wasn't very tall; he just looked big in comparison to the
blue-hoods. He had short white hair, a thick pair of glasses, a sharp yellow suit, and long green rubber
boots. He was pretty fat and walked with a weird waddle.

He smiled pleasantly at us as he passed. I smiled back, but Evra looked paralyzed, unable to move the
muscles in his mouth.

The blue-hoods and the man with the torch walked farther into the campsite, all the way to the back,
where they found a large clear spot. Then the blue-hoods began putting up a tent — they must have been
carrying the equipment underneath their capes — while the larger man headed for Mr. Tall's van.

I studied Evra. He was shaking all over, and even though his face could never turn white — because of
its natural color — it was paler than it had ever been before.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

He shook his head silently, unable to reply.

"What is it? Why are you so scared? Who was that man?"

"He … It …" Evra cleared his throat and took a deep breath. When he spoke, it was in a low, trembling
voice, filled with sheer terror.

"That was Mr. Tiny," he said, and I couldn't get any more out of him for a long time after that.

Author: Ah, that was a good lunch break. Back to the old grind...wha? What the hell is this? I didn't write...LYYYYYNCH!
David Lynch: ho ho ho.


Next time: That gum you like is going to come back in style...

lol wat.

I cannot believe you are leaving me in the lurch like this Delly :<

I saw a trailer for the movie based on this shit when I went to watch 9 with my friend. I cringed in my seat, it seriously looked worse than the book. Plus I think they aged the main characters up.

D'aww, Evra has a special friend too.

Del, I'm so conflicted.

I adore you, I'm your Alice, you know that, right?

But honey, I leave and here you are dissecting my favorite childhood book series.

D:

I THOUGHT WE HAD SOMETHING SPECIAL.

. . .Okay I admit it, they're pretty horrendous.

Oh my gentle Jesus what is that

Penguin wrote:

Oh my gentle Jesus what is that

Dunno, but I hope it's had all it's shots-it looks a bit rabid [You must be registered and logged in to see this image.]

Oh, Eugene! I would never want to hurt you! You are my darling and you are free to enjoy whatever you like, and God knows I enjoyed worse as a child! I'm sorry, please don't feel bad D: It's nothing personal!

...well, not to YOU, anyway. Because between the series and me?

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

IT IS NOW OFFICIALLY BLOODY PERSONAL. I'm sorry, Eugene-honey, but I can't stop now! Invade MY /y/ with creepy Pedobear art, will you? CHAAAAARGE!

So apparently the Lynchian aside I ended on last time is actually related to the plot, as the next chapter opens on Evra's fearful explanation. Mr. Tiny is, in fact, the gay midget prostitute ringleader, and presumably either adopted his name either to garner a feeling of fellowship with his charges or because he has a dick of Quampish proportions. Evra mentions that he gets the feeling that Mr. Tiny wants to slaughter, skin and roast him, and that everyone in the troupe holds the same misgivings, because we haven't had a vore ref in at least three pages now.

Talk turns to the gay midget prostitutes themselves, who Evra theorizes are afraid of Mr. Tiny as well. He relates that they never speak, and that they very rarely let their hoods down.

Quote :

"Have you ever seen their faces?" I asked.

"Once," Evra said. "Usually they don't let their hoods slip, but one day I was helping a couple of them
move a heavy machine. It fell on one of the Little People and crushed him. He didn't make a sound, even
though he must have been in a huge amount of pain. His hood fell to the side and I caught a glimpse of his
face.

"It was disgusting," Evra said quietly, stroking the snake. "Full of scars and stitches all crumpled together,
like some giant had squeezed it with his claws. He didn't have ears or a nose, and there was some kind of
mask over his mouth. The skin was gray and dead-looking, and his eyes were like two green bowls near
the top of his face. He didn't have hair, either."

Gosh, that certainly is an original and creative--oh, wait. Looks like Mulder and Scully went to investigate the wrong circus in Humbug. Also, way to be accepting of your fellow freaks, Evra, gold empathy star for today.

Evra is unsure whether the little dude survived, as his brothers hauled him off immediately and they're impossible to tell apart. Darren vows to use his "vampire powers" to find a way to talk to them. This is probably going to boil down to him trying Pig Latin, semaphore, and Morse code before trying the old standby of speaking very loudly and slowly in plain English, all while the gay midget prostitutes chain-smoke and telepathically shoot the shit about what a cock he is with each other, until Crepsley finds him and rapes the shit out of him smacks him upside the head. It's times like these that I wish I could draw fanart.

Evra notes that it's strange that there were no gay midget prostitutes in the Cirque when Darren joined up, and that the mysterious appearance of Mr. Tiny "was probably just a coincidence, or fate", effectively showing that snakes don't understand how opposites work. However, this blatantly shoehorned piece of dialogue curious coincidence of conversation turns talk to srs business:

Quote :

He paused. "Which is another thing: Mr. Tiny's first name is Desmond."

"So?"

"He tells people to call him Des."

"So?" I asked again.

"Put it together with his last name," Evra told me.

I did. Mr. Des Tiny. Mr. Des-Tiny. Mr …

"Mr. Destiny," I whispered, and Evra nodded seriously.

Evra: Is that sad or what?
Darren: And I thought that thing where Mr. Crepsley makes me wear the Fay Wray dress and pretend he's King Kong was pathetic.
Evra: What?
Darren: What?

Seriously, I cannot read that as anything but a desperate midlife crisis combined with the millions of grade-school beatings someone with a name like "Tiny" must have received. I know I've been spoiled by Discworld, where protagonists actually call out characters with names like "Miss Tick" ("Miss Teak would be better, wouldn't it?"), but come ON, someone had to PROOFREAD this. Oh well, at least I can pretend he's Desmond-the-flamingly-gay-stoner-I-was-acquainted-with-from-my-sister's-college now, that does make things a little more bearable.

Quote :

I was dying of curiosity and asked Evra a bunch more questions, but his answers were limited. He knew
almost nothing about Mr. Tiny, and only a little more about the Little People. They ate meat. They
smelled funny. They moved around slowly most of the time. They either didn't feel pain or couldn't show
it. And they had no sense of humor.

Wait a second...tiny green people in hoods that move very slowly, don't seem to feel pain, and have no sense of humor? I hereby rescind my former assessment of their character and rejoice heartily! This is canon now, guys. I am waiting with bated breath for one of them to shuffle up to Darren and 9999 his ass.

Anyway, Darren asks how Evra knows that they have no sense of humor. While the standard answer would be that they read the entirety of Achewood and didn't laugh--not even once--Evra launches into a story about someone who used to be in the troupe.

Quote :

"Bradley Stretch," Evra answered darkly. "He used to be with the show. He had rubbery bones and
could make his arms and legs stretch.

"He wasn't very nice. He was always playing practical jokes on us, and he had a nasty way of laughing.
He didn't just make you look like an idiot: He made you feel like one too.

"We played a show in an Arabian palace. It was a private show for a sheik. He enjoyed all the acts, but
especially liked Bradley's. The two started talking, and Bradley told the sheik he couldn't wear jewelry,
because it always slipped off or broke because of the changing shape of his body.

"The sheik ran away and came back with a small gold bracelet. He gave it to Bradley and told him to put
it on his wrist. Bradley did. Then the sheik told him to try shaking it off.

"So Bradley made his arm small and big, short and long, but he couldn't shake the bracelet loose. The
sheik said it was magic and could only be removed if the wearer wanted to take it off. It was really
valuable, priceless, but he gave it to Bradley as a gift.

Evra: ...and that's the story of Another Gorram Over-Appropriately-Named Freak and the Magic Cock Ring.
Darren: Ooh, ooh! Tell it again, but do the voices!
Evra: Haha, okay, champ. I spoil you, you know.

Quote :

"Getting back to the Little People," Evra said. "Bradley loved to tease them. He was always finding new
ways to trick them. He made traps to hang them up in the air by their feet. He set their capes on fire. He
squirted liquid laundry detergent on ropes they were using to make their hands slip, or glue to make them
stick. He put thumbtacks in their food and he made their tent collapse and locked them in a van."

Stretch: EVIL! EVIL EVIL EVIL! I AM SO FUCKING EVIL! GOD FORBID I HAVE DEPTH AS A CHARACTER OR ANYTHING, I'M JUST REALLY FUCKING EVIL! oh God Daddy why didn't you love me.
Tonberry: askoose me, but do you have any more thumbtacks? they are delicious and good though they require much chewing and noshing and biting and gnawing.

Quote :

"Why was he so mean?" I asked.
"I think because they never reacted," Evra said. "He liked to see people get upset, but the Little People
never cried or screamed or lashed out. They didn't seem to notice his pranks.

Stretch: So, uh, you're on fire. That doin' anything for you?
Tonberry: enh, I got lotsa HP. you got anythin' in a Vanish/Doom flavor?
Stretch: Will Vanish/X-Zone do?
Tonberry: aw, that combo is a butt.

Quote :

Evra made a funny noise that was half a laugh, half a moan.

Evra: O-oh God I just jizzed.
Darren: Man, you're on more of a hair trigger than Mr. Crepsley.
Evra: I can't help it, people with highly malleable anatomies torturing gay midget prostitutes is like my second-favorite fetish!
Darren: That sucks, man. What's the first one?
Evra: Idiot preteens being turned into creatures of the night by overbearing chickenhawk vampire freaks.
Darren: Oh, I can see where that would be--OH GOD RIGHT IN MY EYE
Evra: God, that one just never gets old.

Long story short, Stretch disappeared one day, and when Evra went to clean out the communal Tonberry cooking pot, there, amid the scraps of meat and bone...WAS A BLOODY HOOK! Wait, no. ...WAS THE PROM QUEEN'S SWEATER! ...no, that's not it either... ...WAS THE MAGIC COCK RING! Darren screams and wets himself and is inconsolable for the rest of the night, Crepsley scolds Evra for winding him up like that, Evra tells Crepsley that maybe if he watched the fucking kid sometimes instead of spending all night watching reruns of Crossing Jordan and sobbing into his Valium then maybe they would be a better family, then the yelling starts and Darren cries in his coffin-shaped couch fort because Daddy and Daddy don't love him anymore...okay yeah that's how it should go. Instead Darren and Evra crack the hell up because Evra fed the scraps to the Wolf-Man and cannibalism is ~hilarious~.

Quote :

"We shouldn't laugh." I caught my breath. "Poor Bradley Stretch. We should be crying."

"I'm laughing too hard to cry," Evra gasped.

"I wonder what he tasted like?"

Evra: Kind of smoky, but not too bad. Mr. Tall's a lot worse, really, all that red meat he eats.
Darren: What?
Evra: What?

Quote :

In the middle of our fit of hysteria, the flap to the door of our tent was pulled aside by an inquisitive head,

Sigmund Freud: Pardon me, just injecting a little birth imagery into the story. Ahem...weh, weh! I am a child being born! I feel rejected by my mother and will, in my adulthood, seek to bond with her this intimately again through an incestuous relationship!
Darren: what the Jungian fuck
Evra: Oh, that's just our new recruit, Bill Oedpial Obsession, showing off his new act.
Sigmund Freud: It's Freud.
Evra: By God, if you are going to be one of us, Bill, you are going to be named like one of us! Now go to your room!
Sigmund Freud: The room in this case signifies the mother's womb--
Evra: HAUL TITS, PUSSYMAN.

Okay, it's actually Hans Hands, but this book would be so much cooler with random appearances by Austrian psychologists in it. Unfortunately, he brings sobering news...

Quote :

"I have a message for you two," he said. "Mr. Tall wants you to report to his van as soon as possible."

"What's up, Hans?" Evra asked. He was still laughing. "Why does he want us?"

"He doesn't," Hans said. "Mr. Tiny is with him. He's the one who wants you."

Our laughter stopped instantly. Hans let himself out without any further words.

"Mr. Tuh-tuh-tuh-Tiny wants us," Evra gasped.

"I heard," I said. "What do you think he wants?"

"I don't kn-kn-kn-know," Evra stuttered, though I could tell what was going through his mind. It was the
same thing that was rushing through mine. We were thinking of the Little People, Bradley Stretch, and the
big black pot full of scraps of human meat and bone.

Evra: We gonna get raped, huh.
Darren: Repeatedly. With great enthusiasm.
Tonberry: lol pwnt.


Next time: Del boggles at the fact that this was only ONE GENTLY-CARESSING CHAPTER, and fears the insanity to come.

I was originally planning on writing a bunch of updates and parceling them out, but enh, I might as well just post as I go.

The next chapter starts a bit slowly, with the boys entering Mr. Tiny's van (haaah) and arguing about seating arrangements. It takes an entire half a page to drop into self-indulgence on the author's part, which tells you he's grown really conscientious lately.

Quote :

"You're quite the boy, by all accounts," Mr. Tiny went on. "A most remarkable young man. Sacrificed
everything to save a friend. There aren't many who would do as much. People are so self-centered these
days. It's good to see the world can still produce heroes."

"I'm no hero," I said, blushing at the compliment.

"Of course you are," he insisted. "What is a hero but a person who lays everything on the line for the
good of somebody else?"

I smiled proudly. I couldn't understand why Evra was so afraid of this nice, strange man. There was
nothing terrible about Mr. Tiny. I kind of liked him.

Candy? Lost dogs? Boxes of kittens? All tools of the past! In this, the age of the attention whore, the enterprising pedophile's most powerful love potion is ego-stroking! For just two easy payments of $4500.50, you too can learn to be as suave a kiddy-diddler as e'er stalked a Burger King ball pit with Dr. Pedobear's "Golly, Of Course I Have a Big Penis, Mister" learn-at-home sweet-talk courses! In the time it takes you to inform every parent on your block that you're a registered sex offender, you can be learning the tricks of the trade that put you cock-and-shoulders ahead of all the other sick fucks in your town! Learn such advanced techniques as...

* Comparing your boylover's exploits with a list of hero figures in current media, such as Mario, Mr. T, and Edward Cullen!
* Not-so-subtly making Messianic parallels!
* Suggesting that your special friend is an exception to that "they don't make 'em like they used to" trend!

The FBI will stage a manhunt for you in three days or less, or we'll double your money back! Order in the next ten minutes and we'll include a box of kittens, just in case! Operators are standing by!

Quote :

"Larten tells me you're reluctant to drink human blood," Mr. Tiny continued. "I don't blame you. Nasty,
repulsive stuff. Can't stand it. Apart from young children, of course. Their blood is scrump-dilly-icious."

I frowned. "You can't drink blood from them," I said. "They're too small. If you took blood from a
young child, you'd kill it."

His eyes widened and so did his smile.

"So?" he asked softly.

okay seriously now this is just getting silly. How could this conversation have possibly gone? "Mr. Harper-Collins Executive, there's a line in here that suggests a Wonka-esque child-killer along the lines of Albert Fish. Should we nip this in the bud before he starts waxing rhapsodic about how chewy pre-pubescent testicles are? ...sir? ...are you listening at all? I know it's Thai Hooker Tuesday, but you could at least grunt or something."

This little remark makes Darren instictively know that Tiny is evil, "not just bad or nasty but pure demonic evil", and he's a man he "could imagine killing thousands of people just to hear them scream", which isn't nearly as poetic as Kefka's rendition on the same subject. It's also a bit less extreme than the poisoning of an entire town, women and children included, that accompanied Kefka's mention of scream-loving, which makes you kind of wonder why we didn't get to see Tiny doing something like that before being told he was that evil. It's almost like the story is trying to force us to feel a particular way about a character by telling us explicitly what to feel, but it's not like they'd do that...or have done it before...repeatedly...

Things get back to normal (as normal as it gets, anyway) as Tiny reveals that he wants "two fine young men" to look after the new batch of Tonberries because he can't stick around. The two reluctantly agree to find food for them, with Tiny adding that "Young Evra Von knows what my darlings like, I'm sure" and making me check my Pedobear joke calendar in vain. They're given permission to leave the van--RUN BOYS, RUN LIKE THE WIND--but Darren shows how ~BRAVE~ he is by...GASPY! Asking a QUESTION! This is srs business, guys, Crepsley and Mr. Tall's jaws drop and everything. Srs business.

He asks why Tiny calls them "Little People". Tiny responds that, uh, they're little, hurpadurp? Seriously, kid, everyone in the troupe is named after their schtick, why does THIS one confuse you? Oh well, maybe he'll finally end up admitting they're Tonberries.

Quote :

"But don't they have another name? An official name? If somebody mentioned
'Little People' to me, I'd think they were talking about elves or leprechauns."

Mr. Tiny smiled. "They are elves and leprechauns," he said. "All around the world, you will find legends
and stories of small, magical people. Legends have to start somewhere. These legends started with my
short, loyal friends."

"Are you telling me those dwarfs in blue capes are elves?" I asked disbelievingly.

"No," he said. "Elves don't exist. Those dwarfs — as you so rudely put it — were seen, long ago, by
ignorant people, who invented names for them: elves or fairies or sprites. They made up stories about
what they were and what they could do."

Darren: MR. TINY MR. TINY
Crepsley: ugh God not this again
Tiny: dude what is his damage
Crepsley: he is like five I swear
Darren: MEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSTEEEEEEEEEEEEERRRRRRR TIIIIIIIIIIINYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY--
Tiny: WHAT OKAY WHAT.
Darren: WHAT ARE THE LITTLE PEOPLE FO' REALLY??
Tiny: ELVES OKAY ELVES
Darren: OHHHHH LAWL OKAY
Tiny: so can we eat him yet? can we make him into a stew?
Crepsley: you always want to make stew. I want a quiche.

Darren continues to pester him, asking what Little People can do, and Tiny (rightfully) brushes him off, saying curiosity killed the cat.

Quote :

"I'm not a cat," I said boldly.

Mr. Tiny leaned forward, and his face darkened. "If you ask more questions," he hissed, "you might find
yourself turned into one. Nothing in life is forever, not even the human form."

OH SWEET MOTHER OF GONTERMAN NO YOU DON'T. NO...YOU...DON'T. I WILL PUT UP WITH ALL THE OTHER CREEPY FETISHES, BUT I WILL NOT HAVE THIS TURN INTO A FURRY FIC ON MY WATCH. THIS THREAD IS HARLEY-FREE AND WILL REMAIN SO, GOT IT? GOOD.

Anyway, the adults let the kids go, with Crepsley telling Darren that there will be no "lessons" (presumably of the blowjob variety) tonight. Tiny adds an ominous comment along the lines of "If you don't feed the Little People early, THEY WILL EAT YOUR FACE", which is less threatening if you've ever owned a cat. Outside, Evra tells Darren that he must be crazy to talk to Tiny, and Darren agrees. Look, guys, did it ever occur to you that all he wants is love? He wants to join in on the annual taffy pull and the weekly game nights and the Secret Santa with everyone else, but nobody will let him because he's misunderstood! And...hang on, I think I have a children's book coming on here...yes! I'll call it "The Loneliest Pedobear"! I'll make a mint!

Oh, and Tiny has a heart-shaped watch that he won't stop fondling and it glows and OMG SPESHUL shit like that, which I didn't mention because it's too pathetic to even make a decent joke about. But that night...

Quote :

When I finally fell asleep I dreamed of Mr. Tiny and his heart-shaped
watch. Only, in my dreams, it wasn't a watch. It was a real human heart. Mine . And when he squeezed it…
Agony.

I think I saw that episode of Naruto. Alternately, if this turns into a "Harry's scar" thing, I am going to make like a Little Person--er, Tonberry--and start stabbing the shit out of things.

The next chapter mostly details Evra and Darren catching wild animals to feed the Tonberries. Thrills! Darren finds a fox with a chicken in its mouth on the way home from a fable and snaps its neck, then chaws on it for a bit while continuing to angst about whether or not he should drink human blood. He then finds a family of rabbits "washing their ears in a nearby pond", apparently refugees from a Beatrice Potter story because no rabbit has ever done that in the history of ever. Their twee little waistcoats are their undoing, as Darren snaps up three of the smallest ones--remember, dickishness towards bunnies is an important character trait for our beloved protagonist--before deciding to call it a day.

Quote :

I met Evra back at camp. He'd found a dead dog and a badger and was feeling pretty pleased with
himself. "The easiest day of hunting I've ever had," he said. "Plus I found a field full of cows. We'll go
there tonight and steal one. That'll keep the Little People going for a day or two at least."

"Won't the farmer who owns them notice?" I asked.

"There are at least a hundred of them," Evra said. "By the time he gets around to counting them, we'll be
long gone."

"But cows cost money," I said. "I don't mind killing wild animals, but stealing from a farmer is different."

"We'll leave money for him," Evra said with a sigh.

"Where will we get it?" I asked.

Evra smiled. "The one thing we're never short of at the Cirque Du Freak is money," he assured me.

I've tried to hold off the Kirkmoticons for this snark, but...but... [You must be registered and logged in to see this image.] This is just so STUPID. If money isn't an issue, why not buy the cow? Hell, why not just buy meat? If they're un-picky enough to nosh on roadkill, then clearly they wouldn't have a problem with a sack of scraps from a butcher's shop, which DEFINITELY wouldn't cost as much as an ENTIRE, LIVING COW. More importantly, WHY ARE WE EVEN BOTHERING WITH THIS. THERE'S NO POINT. IT'S BORING. IT'S USELESS. IT'S PURE, UNADULTERATED FILLER. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

*cough* Sorry...sorry, I needed a moment there. Let's move on.

Uninteresting filler section over with, the boys return to camp to find Sam waiting in the bushes. For no reason other than the author wanting to show off his feeble worldbuilding skills, he's in a "questioning mood".

Quote :

"Don't you ever wear shoes?" he asked Evra.

"No," Evra said. "The soles of my feet are extra tough."

"What happens if you step on a thorn or a nail?" Sam asked.

Evra smiled, sat down, and gave Sam his foot. "Try scratching it with a sharp twig," he said.

Sam broke off a branch and poked Evra's sole. It was like trying to make a hole in tough leather.

"A sharp piece of glass might slice me," Evra said, "but that doesn't happen very often, and my skin's getting tougher every year."

"I wish I had skin like that," Sam said enviously.

...at least, I hope that's the only reason. If they start tickling each other, I am out of here.

Sam says that he's still planning on joining the freakshow, and Evra and Darren share an old-married-couple look over the chances of that happening. Then Sam leads them to an old, deserted railroad station...hey Sam, your first name isn't "Son of", is it?

Quote :

"It's great," he said. "They used to work on trains there, repair and paint them and stuff like that. It was a
busy station when it was open. Then a new station opened closer to the city and this place went
bankrupt. It's a great place to play. There are rusty old railroad tracks, empty sheds, a guardhouse, and a
couple of ancient train cars."

"Is it safe?" Evra asked.

"My mother says it isn't," Sam told us. "It's one of the few places she tells me to stay away from. She
says I could fall through the roof of one of the cars or trip on a rail or something. But I've been there lots
of times and nothing's ever happened."

Clearly, someone never saw Apaches in school. Oh well, at least they can have Evra walk around first to pick up all the rusty nails and broken glass.

Suddenly, the boys notice a "heavy, sour smell" coming closer...and closer...and closer...and...

Quote :

"Gotcha!" a voice yelled behind me, and before I could move I felt a firm hand grab my shoulder and
spin me around. I saw a large, hairy face, and then suddenly I was falling backward, thrown off-balance
by the force of the hand.

Darren: IT'S CHRIS-CHAN! RUN AWAY, RUN AWAY!
Chris: Wait! Stop! I just want to be loved! By a boyfriend-free girl! That's a virgin!
Author: Hey, thanks for ghostwriting for me, brah.
R. L. Stine: I like your money :D


Next time: Pot references, big fuzzy bear-men, and jokes about personal hygiene--and that's not even the snark...

Quote :

Crepsley: you always want to make stew. I want a quiche.

Goddammit, Del, now I need to go read Bone again.

[You must be registered and logged in to see this image.] Great snark, as usual.