What We Do etc: "The Fiendish Plot of (human) Laszlo and Nadja Cravensworth

"The Fiendish Plot of (human) Laszlo and Nadja Cravensworth"..Part X

What We Do In the Shadows: "The Fiendish Plot of (human) Laszlo and Nadja Cravensworth"...

Summary: Back in the regular but sort of AU universe of WWDITS, you thought the season was about Guillermo. It wasn't. (Well, in this AU anyhow.)

Part X...

...

"So..." Nandor eyes the camera, perhaps a bit miffed. "You documentary peoples knew Nadja's soul had not given up her body. That her demonic essence was booted out, possibly permanently now. And never thought to tell the head of this household, me?"

"Dear." Marwa's ghost hovering. "They were sworn to secrecy. And they didn't know you'd gone and got on the Redemption bus."

"Well...True enough, I suppose." Nandor, shrugging. "And, of course I did ask you guys to keep my secret from Laszlo and the others. Still in effect, you know." Raising finger. "I guess what's good for the sultan's prized female swan is good for the not-so-prized male." Nods.

"But getting back to physical bodies..." he notes. "We aren't left with many choices unless a lucky accident occurs. Or one of us stumbles on to say, a hidden ancient djinn lamp." Hopeful look.

"It can't be 'stumbles' as in one of these folks picks up your lamp." The Djinn, from corner down the hall.

"Fine." Nandor frowns. "Say why do you keep hanging round if my wishes are gone? Waiting to present a bill? Fifty wishes, one soul?"

Hmmn...Marwa, a bit apprehensive. That is how it usually works on TV...From what I've sensed through the ether. As well as the old stories...

"Please. I said I'm not something out of the 'Twilight Zone'. Or 'Alfred Hitchcock Presents', which, for my money, is the better horrorwise." The Djinn notes. "Did you ever see that one they had to ban, 'The Sorcester's Apprentice'? My God. Terrifying. Though a great tale. That Hitchcock." Nods. "Anyway, no. No bills. You got a fair deal for finding the lamp and popping me out, we're good. I just sorta like having some quiet down-time here. And what would I do with your soul?"

"I thought Satan or whatever..." Nandor began, shrugging.

"Oh, please. I mean sure, there's a place where demonic essences hang out generally, their 'Earth' sort of, till they get a crack at here...And people who can't be happy anywhere wind up there for lack of a place to hang when they die." The Dijnn nods. "But come on...Satan, Hell, Eternal Punishment and Suffering?" frown. "Now, sure...Hitler, Stalin...Ibrahim the Mad, Henry VIII, they all deserve a long prison sentence...Maybe to learn to feel for their victims and go through every sufferer's suffering. But 'eternal'? What kind of psycho maniac would God/Allah/whathaveyou have to be to do that?" stern look.

"Well, that's good. No eternal punishment. Phew." Nandor nods. Marwa, relieved look as well.

Not that my Nandor could ever deserve...

"Doesn't mean you get a free ticket. And you have done some pretty awful stuff, even as human." The Djinn notes.

"This is my husband you speak of. He was only following orders!" Marwa, indignantly.

"Uh, dear..." Nandor, carefully. "That excuse really don't cut it these days. But I appreciate the lioness-like defense."

"Sorry." Marwa shrugs. "But my Nandor has done great good...Well, some good. And he's been relatively unmaniacal as a vampire."

"That's true, actually. And rather surprising." The Djinn notes. "Which is probably why he's gotten his shot at Redemption.

"Of course." Marwa, proudly. "And once redeemed, he'll be an even greater hero for good than Dracula, Redeemed."

"Thanks, my dear. That's sweet." Nandor beams.

"Well, gotta get to Redemption first..." the Djinn notes. "But, my money, if I needed to use money and couldn't create fabulous wealth with a blink of an eye, would be on you."

"Thanks, very kind. No offense intended earlier." Nandor, nods.

"Not a problem." The Djinn, offhandedly. "And sorry I can't be of more help. It's the rules, our order is very strict about the rules. You have to be with near-omnipotence." Shrugs.

"I get that." Nandor agrees.

"However..." the Djinn, casually... "Nothing says I can't offer a bit of friendly advice..." shrewd look.

Marwa and Nandor eye each other as she floats near him.

"You may want to consider other alternatives to that other female vampiral body in the immediate area. After all...There are other vampires in the tristate." Careful nod. "And your friend, the blonde lady vampire?...While I'm sure, a very nice person for a murderous fiend of the night...Was not the nicest nor most hygienic person as a human."

"Hygienic as in...?" Nandor.

"Yeah, rotten with VD." The Djinn nods. "Not intending to be judgmental but she really got around in her day. You really might want to stay clear, Miss." He notes to Marwa who offers pained expression.

"Well...Thanks." Nandor nods.

"Hey, you two are nice people. And me, I'm a romantic at heart. Well, I'll let you get on with it. Though if ok, I'll pop in again and see how it goes? Or you can look me up through my brother with the car dealership?" smile, wave.

He disappears.

"Hmmn..." Marwa frowns.

"I mean I myself wouldn't have a major problem there..." Nandor begins.

"I would..." Marwa shaking head. "How could I face Mama's ghost when she visits, in a body like that?"

"Your mother's ghost?" Nandor, hesitant.

"Or yours when she wishes. She will of course always be welcome, husband. But yeah..." eyeing him "Mine."

"And she'll be visiting how often?" Nandor, carefully.

....

"Well..." Laszlo, vampiral, pulling deerstalker cap down. "I've reached the main floor in my romantic quest for Dolly, to else my beloved Nadja's pain. No luck as yet."

"Hey." Colin Robinson in suit looks up from chair in the library Laszlo in deerstalker and cloak has just entered. "You're looking very Holmesian, what's up?"

"I'm on a quest for my beloved wife, Colin Robinson. Seeking that dratted doll of hers."

"Really? I'm having a ball reading the county births and deaths registers for 1909-1914. Exciting stuff. Lotta people died of dysentery in 1911."

"Oh? Why, yes, I remember. I had to switch to cow for a bit that year. The flavor of people truly was off that year." Laszlo nods.

"Probably political corruption at Tammany Hall led to poor sewer maintenance..." Colin notes.

"Very likely..." nod. Cut to shot of 1910 Laszlo in 1910 style suit, dumping half-eaten corpses into sewers via manholes. "Well, I see no Doll and my infallible detective sense heightened by my Dark Power senses I'm wasting my time here. Farewell, the quest draws me on."

"Need any help?"

"Decidedly not, Colin Robinson. My Dark Power must remain at its full force to be effective here. And having the hell bored out of me would prevent that."

"Well, ok. Lets see what 1912 has to offer." Colin, opening another tome. "Woo-ho, nice increase in typhus."

"Right, well on to the basement, where I suspect and my deductive powers assure me, given there are no more floors, I will find success." Laszlo nods to camera, pulling deerstalker cap down.

"Good luck. Say? You might wanna check the kitchen...Just a suggestion." Colin calls as Laszlo begins descent on basement stairway... "Oops, well ok. Maybe on your way back."

"Thing always creeps me out anyway...Especially since I can't drain her." Colin notes to camera. "Hopefully she hit the road, or someone stuffed her in the furnace." He turns back to his book.

...