How Not to Vampire - Season 2

14: The Return of the Mack

Pro-tip for Vampires #131: there is no such thing as vampire narcolepsy.

Slap me if you've heard this one before: there is nothing more shocking than a slap in the face to bring you back to reality. The sting of pain on my right cheek made my eyes water, and I was about to have some serious words with whoever it was who hit me. But that was not my most pressing concern. No, the thing that really disturbed me was this: I was in aisle three at the Porn Emporium with no idea how I got there.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Bob?" Sammy hissed. Her hands were balled into fists, sort of their natural state. But this time, they really looked eager to pummel the shit out of me.

"What did I do?" I mumbled, rubbing my stinging cheek, the pain already beginning to subside, thanks to those wonderful vampire healing abilities.

Tear her throat out!

The alien thought hit me with a force so hard I stumbled back into the DVD display, sending a rain of porn onto the floor. The vision of my teeth tearing into Sammy's throat was seared across my mind, so real, too real, but I shook it off, shocked at myself. The overwhelming urge to make the vision real was disturbing. What the fuck, man?

"Just be glad I didn't punch you in the dick, you asshole," Sammy spat and shoved past me, forcing me to to step aside or be trampled by a five-foot-two, purple-haired mack truck.

"But what did I do?" I pleaded.

"What you did was let that skank give you a goddamn blowjob behind the GODDAMN COUNTER!"

Holy shit, what?

"Your zipper is still down dipshit," Sammy hissed and then stomped her way to viewing-booth #2 where she slammed the door behind her.

I hastily zipped up my pants, heart pounding from the realization that I had fucked up so badly and broken one of the unwritten rules of the Porn Emporium: no sex in the shop, ever. I turned to look for where this supposed mystery skank was hiding out--

"FUUUUUUUUUCK!" Sammy's muffled scream of rage startled me, and I winced, definitely feeling the cringe of my misdeed. One thing I knew for sure was to leave Sammy alone while I found a corner where I could pretend to be furniture.

Though the pain in my cheek had subsided, the urge to find a few humans and rip out their throats still pulsed through my consciousness. I desperately tried not to freak the fuck out, trying to make sense of my situation. Seriously? What skank was she talking about? As I rubbed my hand over my face, a new mystery arose. How had I managed to have an impossible layer of short bristles that felt like I hadn't shaved in five days?

Seven days, but who's counting? That alien voice echoed through my brain. I shook my head as if that might dislodge it. The last thing I needed was an internal monologue or a personal narrator.

"BOBBY!" the Porn Emporium Boss yelled from the front of the store, and I swivelled on my heel to face him, my general sense of what-the-fuck-itis only intensifying. What was he doing here?

"Whatever it is, I didn't do it!" I said reflexively, but I had a feeling that was a lie and we both knew it. The new kid, Benjamin, was with him, his face red with embarrassment, avoiding eye contact. Whatever I had done, dude had totally narced on me.

We should make him pay, the alien thought came, and I squeezed my fists tight, trying to think about puppies and dank memes and anything else at all in the world.

The boss urged Benjamin forward, and to his credit, he was incredibly encouraging. Totally out of character. "Look kid, your mom is going to kill me if I don't get you to stand up for yourself, so get it done."