Suckers - Jack Kilborn [66]
Case closed.
Paramedics came, with methadone to help me overcome my new addiction. And fire fighters. And news crews. And real cops without fangs who took our statements and offered me a key to the city because, in their words, “We always kinda knew there was something wrong with this house.”
Andrew Mayhem mumbled something about having to get home, so we shared a manly handshake.
“You done good, kid,” I told him. “I want you to have this.”
I reached into my pocket, and handed him a jar of spaghetti sauce. No mushrooms.
“Thanks, Harry. We sure had some adventure, didn’t we?”
“We sure did, Andrew. We sure as hell did.”
We embraced, and then he walked stoically away, into legend.
You can see the whole thing next summer, in the new Fatal Autonomy movie, Bloodsucker Nightmare: Harry McGlade vs. The Vampires, directed by Uwe Boll, coming direct to DVD. It will have exclusive uncut bonus footage, including eight minutes of commentary by me, and the alternate “pants-wetting ending” which Andrew assures me was just spilled water.
They never found Vlad. And I’m man enough to admit that his undersized wee-wee sometimes haunts my dreams. Was he really a nosferatu, an undead immortal ghoul who will forever walk the earth, feasting on the living? Or was he just a fat guy with a small Johnson?
Just to be safe, keep your doors and windows locked at night, and always carry a clove of garlic in your pants.
And if you’re alone in your room, at night, alone, reading this tale of horror, and you hear something moving around in your bedroom closet…
RUN LIKE HELL! IT’S VLAD! HE’S GOING TO KILL YOU! GET OUT OF THE HOUSE!
—Harrison Harold McGlade, Chicago IL.
Harry McGlade has a nicer car and legions of deluded fans, but I have one thing that he doesn’t: the final word.
Since he was whacked out on morphine at the time, I’m going to excuse the fact that his final contribution to this tale of misery and woe was 97.3% inaccurate. But you already knew that.
Let’s back up to the fanged cops. I’m not in the habit of attacking officers of the law, even when they’re clearly part of the nefarious scheme. However, Harry let out a cry of “Turnip power!” and threw a punch, leaving me no choice but to fight or get shot.
I will say this for Harry, he did get in one doozy of a punch. I think it even broke the cop’s jaw. The other cop, however, got in a good punch of his own, knocking McGlade against the wall. He slid to the floor.
“I think I just wet somebody else’s pants,” he said.
I took out the other cop. That part Harry got right. But my victory glow only lasted slightly longer than Harry McGlade’s average sexual encounter, because I immediately spun around to find myself once again staring at Vlad and his goddamn shotgun. Tanya stood next to him.
“If you say I’m going in The Pit again, I swear I’m gonna lose it,” I said.
Vlad shook his head. “No Pit for you this time.”
“Quick shotgun death?”
Vlad nodded.
“Shit.”
“I just grew a toe on my hand,” said Harry, holding his hand in front of his face. “I’m not sure if it’s a third or fourth toe. They both look a lot alike.”
Vlad stared at him.
“It’s winking at me with its toenail. Does anybody else think that’s strange? ‘Cause I don’t. I’m naming him Toejam McSmelly. He’s an Aries.”
“I’m not so sure he’s The One anymore,” said Tanya.
“Wooooooooooooo,” said Harry. “That’s a funny word. Woooooooooooo. It sounds funny when I say it. One time I ate a whole bag of sunflower seeds without chewing, and they came out looking exactly the same. That was a pretty wild night. Woooooooooo.”
Vlad pointed the shotgun at Harry and prodded him with the barrel. “What the hell is your problem?”
“I can fit my whole fist in my mouth. See?”
Harry crammed four fingers into his mouth, bit down on them, and began to scream in his throat.
“They gave this guy his own TV show?” Tanya asked.
Vlad looked crestfallen. “There must have been a huge amount of creative license. The Harry McGlade I’m looking at…hell, he didn’t even perform well at the orgy in his honor. Screw Fatal Autonomy.