Vendetta

The first thing he noticed when he regained consciousness was the rancid odour of slowly decaying flesh. Then he heard the buzzing sound of flies feasting on the flesh. He gingerly ran his tongue around his mouth and decided it was dry. Then he felt the cold heap of flesh on his chest. When all his senses returned, he decided he couldn't see. When he finally did change his mind, about 5 hours later, he saw a fuzzy, grey, hobbling figure pacing round the room. He felt a bit noxious and puked on an old man sitting beside him. The old man gleefully jumped to his feet and tried to awkwardly bearhug-grapple the patient. It's always awkward to hug someone when the person is lying down, and especially when you have the regurgitated remains of his last meal on your waistcoat, and epecially when the person is finicky and careful to avoid contact with vomit at all times, but really it's probably because you're wearing a waistcoat.

The old man: "John! You're awake!"

John: "Uncle Charlie? How? The Coffin...Garok...What happenned?"

Uncle Charlie: "Never you mind, boy. We've been trying to track down that filthy mongrel for generations. Finally we managed to catch him napping...But he got away."

John: "How...How did he get away? And how am I here? Where am I, anyway? And isn't it paradoxical of you to call him a 'filthy' mongrel when you are a werewolf yourself?"

Uncle Charlie: "You ask too many questions. This is Dr. Mouse."

The fuzzy, grey, hobbling creature looked quizzically at John. He stood upright on two legs, a skill which werewolves had mastered as opposed to other creatures that were undignified enough to use all four limbs just to walk, but really he just stood on just one. The other was crippled and practically useless. So he used a caine.

Dr. Mouse: "You have acute vampomyliea. Which means you were bitten by a vampire and now have your genitals all shrivelled up and useless. The good news is that it's treatable. So you'll be up and splurging on your uncle's illicit wealth in no time."

John: "So...I'll have my genitals back again?"

Dr. Mouse: "Oh yes. But you'll have syphilis all your life."

John: "WHAT? How's that any better?"

Dr. Mouse: "Didn't say it would be better. But you'll be able to use the phrase 'Howz' it hangin' with your hommes' again!"

John: " Yes, that's the great satisfaction in life I live for...You look somewhat familiar. Have I seen you before?"

Dr. Mouse: "No. Let's get started. I'll have to inject this syringe of werewolf saliva into your spine - "

John: "Why do you look like that guy who played Stuart Little's dad?"

Dr. Mouse: "Because I was forced to do it by my boss....Buddy. Now if I don't inject you soon, you'll die!"

John: "Little Hey, Little Ho!"

Dr. Mouse: " Look, do you want your testicles hanging little high, little low for the rest of your life? Coz I swear, I'll do it."

Uncle Charlie: "Let him do the surgery, John."

John: "If that's what's gonna cure me, what is this pile of meat doing on my chest?"

Dr. Mouse: " That's for the ritual."

John: "Ritual?"

Uncle Charlie: "The traditional Ritual our forefathers have celebrated for centuries!"

John: "But my forefathers weren't even werewolves! I just got converted!"

Dr. Mouse: "Are you gonna stay quiet? Or should I just hit you on the head with my caine?"

Uncle Charlie: "You can't do that!"

Dr. Mouse: "You're not a doctor! Watch me."

(Smacks John on the noggin with his cane.)

John: "Oww!"

"Feeling better?"
The voice belonged to a fourth person who had just entered the room carrying a lamp-post and some banana leaves.

John: "And you must be Dr. Uterus, my gynaecologist!"

Dr. Mouse: "This is 23. She's...ambidextrous."

23 shoots Mouse a look of disapprobriation.

Dr. Mouse: "Now I'll need some urine samples. Set that lamp-post there by his feet."

23: "I suppose you'll need MRI's too"

Dr. Mouse: "No, just a Pet Scan."

Uncle Charlie: "Hey, there's no need to be coy. My boy has a disease!"

Meanwhile John gets busy trying to start up a conversation with 23.

John: "So...23 like the number 23, huh?"

23 (rolling eyes): "Yes. Jim Carrey and all that."

John: "At least you have a better store of movies than the vampires. They watch crap like Underworld!"

23: "Oh Underworld is strictly prohibited now that you're a werewolf. Though I hear the third part is not frowned upon. Too bad Kate Beckinsale is not in it..."

John: "Wait...Is ambidextrous a euphemism for something else?"

Dr. Mouse: "Excuse the interruption but what part of 'You have syphilis' don't you understand? Stop hitting on her!"

(Smacks him on the head with his caine.)

John: "Oww!"

Uncle Charlie: "Is that really necessary?"

Dr. Mouse: "Yup. Hospital protocol. Time for the ritual."

John: "Is this gonna hurt?"

Dr. Mouse: "Nope. I chant, you listen!"

John: "Oh c'mon!"

Uncle Charlie: "Now, now John. You have to get used to this now that you're a werewolf."

Dr. Mouse preps up by stretching and starts pacing round and round with his caine in the air, all the while muttering under his breath.

Dr. Mouse: " May this be over and I'll take a nap;
Winter is nigh, April and Summer overlap-"

John: "April and Summer generally do overlap..."

Dr. Mouse: "Oh, I'm just referring to my high school sweethearts!"

John: "Wait! Is this even a real chant?"

Dr. Mouse: " Of course this is a real chant;
Why else would I so senselessly rant?-"

John: "Ok, this is getting ludicrous!"

Uncle Charlie: "Now, now John. Just a little longer!"

Dr. Mouse: " For all you're worth, remember this;
Your only companion is syphilis-"

John: "I preferred silence! And what the fuck!"

Dr. Mouse: " And yes, henceforth your life will suck;
But I don't really give a fuck!-"

John: "Why you self-righteous, hypocritical ****...****..*.! I'm gonna KILL you!"

John begins to feel an immense rage wash over him. Almost spontaneously, his limbs begin to turn bulkier and hairier. His canines begin to grow longer and sharper. An excruciating pain shoots up his spine as it bends with a resounding SNAP! And not so painfully, he notices ab-muscles beginning to pop out sequentially where his not-so impressive paunch used to be. Uncle Charlie embraces him and an effusive, yet lachrymose smile breaks out on his wrinkled face. "You're a true werewolf now!," he cries. John begins to flex his newly formed biceps and roars as werewolves are wont to do.

Smack!

John: "Oww!"

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Meanwhile, in the secret mountainside lair of the leader of the vampire clan, Garok finds himself bound in chains in front of a sickly old man, with a narrow, sallow face and chalk-white irises that might well have been lenses. He looked particularly sartorial in his long, black ceremonial robe, tailored exclusively for him by the head vampire tailor, who among other things, also made jockeys for less ceremonial purposes and lingerie for the petite vampire women. Truly, he was a man of great talent, but the main subject of my description, Viktor, sat in a king-like fashion in his dungeon-like throne. A servant presented himself on his order and obsequiously proffered him a glass of finest chicken blood. Viktor took a gulp from the ornate chalice, but most of it ran down the side of his mouth, as is customary among vampires. Then he spoke.

Viktor: "I see, Garok, you have decided to present yourself before our task is completed."

Garok: "Err...yez, my lord. There were a few hitches in my work.."

Viktor: "Hitches, you say? Of what nature, may I know are these hitches?"

Garok: "I waz attacked while I waz asleep after having recruited a new protege, and narrowly managed to escape with my life-"

Viktor takes another gulp from his chalice and spills a good amount on his disapproving face.

Garok: "With due respect, my lord, must you always spill that stuff on your face?-"

Viktor(enraged): " The audacity! I'll have you know it's good for the complexion! "

Garok: " Yez....About that...I don't really buy that."

Viktor: "By the Gods! Know you who I am?"

Garok: "Davy Jones?"

Viktor: "I am Bill Nighy! Err..I mean Viktor! The lord of this coven. You, Garok Foulblood, have been brought before me because you have failed in your task of converting a hundred souls into immortals like us. Are we so weak that we find ourselves overrun by our own slaves, the werewolves?"

Garok: "Sir, I think it's only the initial craze of Underworld 3. It'll die out eventually..."

Viktor: "Dare you mention Underworld 3 before me?? I shall have you killed!"

Garok: "Isn't that a bit cruel?"

Viktor: "Life is cruel!Why should the afterlife be any different?"

Garok: "I KNEW IT! YOU'RE DAVY JONES!"

Viktor: "Guards! Have this man executed by extreme exposure to sunlight!"

Only the sounds of chain link against stone and a vampire's immortal cries of anguish rend the air as Garok is dragged away from the court, away from his bloodlust, away from the afterlife to taste the eternal kiss of death where the sun manifests itself as the forbidden, red fruits no vampire should ever set eyes upon.