“Hell couldn't be worse than a WalMart after midnight, right?”
“We have souls. Sure we do. Otherwise we'd do bad things all the time. You know, like
politicians.”
“I could have gone to medical school, I said. Except for all the math and stuff.”
“Majesty, I beg your forgiveness for the idignity you suffered and offer you the head of our enemy as—"
"Put that thing down," I said impatiently. "I can't talk to you when you're shaking his head like a damned maraca.”
“I've been stabbed before. Barely a week ago, in fact. AND I've been audited, AND I come from a broken home. In short - no offense, shorty - you don't scare me.”
“Has anyone ever told you that you lack focus?”
“I mean, I wouldn't have wanted to be recognized. But I was kind of a prude about cheating on taxes, group sex, murder, and stuff.”
“I slipped one of the shoes off, looked at the inside. Property of Antonia O'Neill Taylor. I knew it. My stepmother! The bitch meant to bury me wearing her cast off shoes!”
“Wow, girlfriend, you're incompatible with life!
And here I thought I was just incompatible with pink.”
“Touch my things again, whether I'm dead or not, and I'll kick your ass up into your shoulder blades.”
“Can you burn me up with holy water? Poke me to death with your crucifix? Pelt me with communion wafers?”
“You'll pay," she said stonily. "You won't be like this by this time tomorrow."
"Bored and pissed off? God, I hope not.”
“I trudged around on the muddy river bottom for half an hour, patiently waiting to drown, before giving up and slogging my way back to shore.”
“Kissing Sinclair was like making out with a sexy timber wolf— he was licking my fangs and nipping me lightly and growling under his breath and it was...oh, it was really something.”
“Back off, boys. You don't want to mess with an out-of-work secretary. We're real testy.”
“Interesting shade #23 Lush Golden Blonde highlights. Heyyyyyy.... The woman in the awful suit was me! The woman in the cheap shoes was me!”
“Here I am, just wandering down a deserted street in the middle of the night. I hope I don't run into any trouble. Goodness, that would just ruin my whole evening." I strolled and hummed, trying to project Innocent Victim.”
“... friends are such a mixed blessing.”
“Oh my God", Marc rhapsodized. "Who is that ?"
"An asshole," I mumbled, turning back to him and picking up my tea. I was so rattled I sloshed some of the hot liquid on my hand, but I didn't feel a thing.
"He's coming over here !" Marc squealed. "Oh my God, oh my God, ohmyGod!"
"Will you get a hold of yourself?" I hissed. "You sound like a girl with a crush. Ah-ha!”
“Just because I'm dead doesn't mean I can't have a life.”
“…and who are you, anyway?"
"I'm Tina.”
"Thank goodness!” I said so loudly she stepped back. "No silly-ass overdone names for you, m'girl.”
"It's short for Christina Caresse Chavelle.”
"Well, you did the best you could.”
“Crying's okay while it lasts, but you can only do it for so long. And it's weird to do it when you apparently can't make tears anymore (did this mean I wouldn't pee or sweat, either?). Anyway, eventually you're done, and you have to figure out what to do next.”
“So you're a vampire?"
"Yes. But don't be scared. I'm still a nice person.”
“... if hanging with other vamps means I have to go the whole movie cliché route, then forget it.
Cemeteries? Acolytes? Partying in chilly mausoleums? Yuck-o. Also, nobody wears a tux this time of year unless they're going to a wedding. You look like an escapee from the set of Dracula Does Doris.”
“I turned. Tall, Dark, and Sinister was rapidly approaching.”
“...But that is not my scene and I'm outta here."
His hand shot out and grabbed me above the elbow. "Indeed, but you'll accompany me, I think." The stone face cracked and he almost smiled. "I insist on the pleasure of your company. We have much to talk about."
"My ass!”
“Jessica peeked into the bathroom, then hurried back to report. "They got that boy stripped mother naked and they're scrubbing him with your brand-new loofah."
I winced. Thirty-seven ninety-nine at The Body Shop, kaput.”
“Tina was kneeling before me, holding Donald's head by the hair and very plainly trying to hand it to me. "Majesty, I beg your forgiveness for the indignity you suffered and offer you the head of our enemy as—"
"Put that thing down," I said impatiently. "I can't talk to you when you're shaking his head like a damned maraca.”
“When you stop to examine the way in which our words are formed and uttered, our sentences are hard-put to it to survive the disaster of their slobbery origins. The mechanical effort of conversation is nastier and more complicated than defecation. That corolla of bloated flesh, the mouth, which screws itself up to whistle, which sucks in breath, contorts itself, discharges all manner of viscous sounds across a fetid barrier of decaying teeth—how revolting! Yet that is what we are adjured to sublimate into an ideal. It's not easy. Since we are nothing but packages of tepid, half-rotted viscera, we shall always have trouble with sentiment. Being in love is nothing, its sticking together that's difficult. Feces on the other hand make no attempt to endure or grow. On this score we are far more unfortunate than shit; our frenzy to persist in ourpresent state—that's the unconscionable torture.
Unquestionably we worship nothing more divine than our smell. All our misery comes from wanting at all costs to go on being Tom, Dick, or Harry, year in year out. This body of ours, this disguise put on by common jumping molecules, is in constant revolt against the abominable farce of having to endure. Our molecules, the dears, want to get lost in the universe as fast as they can! It makes them miserable to be nothing but 'us,' the jerks of infinity. We'd burst if we had the courage, day after day we come very close to it. The atomic torture we love so is locked up inside us by our pride.”
“It was like discovering that some part of you wasn't yours at all. And it made me wonder what else I couldn't claim.”
“Isn't death the boundary we need? Doesn't it give a precious texture to life, a sense of definition? You have to ask yourself whether anything you do in this life would have beauty and meaning without the knowledge you carry of a final line, a border or limit.”
“We think there are limits to the dimensions of fear. Until we encounter the unknown. Then we can all feel boundless amounts of terror.”
“Don't worry about it," I said."Hey werewolves gotta drool, vampires gotta eat..”
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