You Suck: A Love Story Chapter 16~17

Chapter SixteenBeing the Chronicles of Abby NormalComp permitely Fucked handmaid of the Vampyre gushOMFG-WOOT I admit failed, leftfield my duty und wiz, wish so much dog poop on the gloaming sidewalk of the disaster that is my life. Even as I sit here at the Metreon Starbucks, committal to writing this, the froth slaves seem to move worry silver-eyed zombies and my nonfat, soy Amaretto Mochaccino has gone as bitter as snake bile. (Which is exchangeable the bitterest bile you can set up.) If in that location wasnt a tot entirelyy hot clapperclaw two tables past, acting worry he doesnt nonice me, I would weep tho squarely disunite make your mas railroad cara run, so Im staying chilly in my despair. Your loss, cute quat, for I cede been chosen. Suffer, bitchI had to leave Lord gormandise to his own devices persist night, but forwards I left, I confessed my undying love for him. I am a hopeless hose beast. All I had to do was say responsibility(a)-bye, but no, I meet barked it aside. Its standardised he has this spring all over me manage I seduce an eating disorder and hes a package of Oreo Double Stuff cookies. (I dont have an eating disorder, Im rightful(prenominal) skinny beca function I enjoy eating mass quantities and past yakking it ass up. Its not a body-image problem. I think my system has evermore cherished to live on a liquid diet, and until Im brought into my Dark Lords loving embrace, therefore its Starbucks for me.)I have been trying to call my Dark Lord and the Countess all day on their cells, but I kept getting example mail. Well, duh theyre vampires. They wont be answering the phone. Im such a tard roughly condemnations.So I went to the gray-headed noodle wee this morning, in fact plane before dawn. I should be, wish well, made a Bronte sister for coming up with a drool to get tabu of the house that archaean, but I wanted to call on the carpet to the master before his slumber. Thing was, the sca ry drunk guy and his big cat were gone, but so were my master and the Countess. eerything had been moved pull the statue of the turn over and the Countess.So I rolled step up, headed for the new loft I engageed, when I spotted two discovers sitting in a POS brown car. I knew they were vampyre hunters right away. It must be the masters dark powers rubbing tally on me. There was a big fat gay cop and a aggressively-faced Hispano-cop.So I was like, Could you guys look any more like cops?And they were like, excise a enormous, shortsighted lady.So I was forced to point out to them that they were not the boss of me and because I proceeded to humiliate them by verbally bitch-slapping them until they cried. What is it close to the crusties? Their minds fail so slowly that you have to, like, prompt them to stand up so you can slap them again until they faint like the inadequate wuss-bags that they are. I never want to be surly. And I wont be, because my Lord entrust bring me into the f ancient and I shall stalk the night for eternity, my beauty forever preserved as it is, except Id like a gnomish big boobs.Anyway, I wandered nigh on Market S pointt and up in Union Square to give the cops generous time to slink away to lick their wounds, then I returned to the masters street to check the new loft. This time there was this Asian guy sitting crossways the street in a Honda, looking all Manga- alter, but it was obvious that he was notice the loft limen. He didnt look like a cop, but he was definitely watching, so I stopped and pretended to watch the sculptors work who have the space under(a) the masters old loft. They are these two crusty biker guys, but they do some amazing shit. Theyd left the garage door open so I stepped in.They were rollting dead chickens on wires and dipping them in silver paint, then hanging them on sticks by the wires.So I was all, What the fuck, biker? What are you doing?And one of them was like, Its some the year o f the cock.And I was all), Dont be gross, you crustacious fuck. You cast that thing out and Ill pepper-spray you until you fry. (You have to be stern with weenie waggers Ive been subject to on the bus over s steadyteen times, so I know.)And he was like, No, its the year of the cock in the Chinese zodiac.Which I knew, of course.Were making statues, utter the bigger biker, who was named Frank. (The other ones name was Monk. He didnt talk much, which competency excuse the name.)So they showed me how they excessivelyk real dead roosters they bought in Chinatown, ran wires through and through them to pose them, then dipped them in a thin metallic paint, then draw them in this big tank and attached electric clips to them. They pass some current through the clips and the current attracts dye molecules or something to the metallic paint. Its like instant bronze rooster. I sentiment almost the statue of the Countess upstairs and got a little creeped out.So Im all, You ever do a per son?And they were like, No way, that would be wrong. Youd better go now, because were rear end and dont you have school and force?So walking out, I saw the Asian guy checking me out and I was like, Hey, its almost the year of the cock. Shouldnt you be out shopping for one?He looked truly nervous, but he kinda grinned. Then started his car and drove despatch, but he wants me, I can tell, so hell be back. I hope he wants me. He was so cute in that Final Fantasy Thirty-S raze way. What Im saying is, the Sex Fu is strong with this one.So there was no sign of my Dark Lord or the Countess at the new place. I wonder if they have crawled under the earth in some park and satisfied their perverse desires with each other among the worms and the tree roots. EwwOh well, almost dark. Id better go back to the loft and expect for them. addendum The lice shampoo didnt work on my sister. Looks like we might have to neutralize her head. Im passing game to try to talk her into getting a pentagr am tattooed on her scalp. I know a guy in the Haight who will do it for unaffectionate if you verbally abuse him season hes tattooing. More later.Sun passel. Jody awoke to pain and the expression of cooking meat. She rolled away from the source of the pain and went crashing through the acoustical ceiling tiles to land in a commercial fall out in force(p) of debaucheres and soapy water. A Mexican guy was backing across the dish dwell crossing himself and invoking saints in Spanish as Jody climbed out of the sink and brushed suds take out her jacket and jeans. When she touched the prior of her thighs she or so leapt back through the ceiling the pain was so sharp.Mother-fuck-that-hurts she said, hopping rough on one foot, because that will generally help all manner of pain, careless(predicate) of where its located on the body. Her boot heel clicking against the tiles sounded like a gimp flamenco dancer.The dishwasher turned and bolted out of the dish room into the bakery. The bakery. When the qui vive on her watch had threatened dawn she ran down the alley checking doors as she went, and the lone(prenominal) one she found unlocked led into the stockroom of a bakery. She needed a place to hide where shed be undisturbed go she slept, and although she considered hiding under a couple of the fifty-pound bags of flour, she had no way of versed if the bakers would be using them today. Shed already awakened in a morgue once before (when Tommy had frozen her), and finding a rotund necrophiliac morgue attendant rubbing his hands and other bits over her seminaked body small-arm she thawed had soured her to the whole morgue experience. No, she had to find someplace more secluded.One of the bakers had been coming into the stockroom, she could hear his voice and footfalls outside the door. She looked around for someplace to hide, then spotted the grimy acoustic ceiling tiles suspended above. She leapt onto the palette of flour, lifted a tile to see that t he ceiling was suspended a full four feet below the structural ceiling. Bless old buildings. She grabbed a water pipe, pulled herself through the ceiling, jackknifed her legs up and around the pipe, then apply her free hand to pull the ceiling tile back in place, all in less than two seconds.She listened as the man moved around below her, then scooped up one of the big bags of flour and left the room. That was a good call.She checked her watch. Less than a minute before shed go out. She spotted four pipes running together parallel to the floor. They were save most warm, which was why she could see them at all in the darkness, but each was two inches around and braced to the ceiling all(prenominal) few feet. Theyd watch her.She scrambled over to the pipes, squirmed out of her leather jacket, and put it across the pipes, then lay facedown on top of it. This way, even if one of her legs slipped get through, it wouldnt pull her off the pipes. She was trying to wedge the toes of h er boots into the gap between the pipes when she went out.The problem was that the pipes werent used that early in the morning. As the building awoke, hot water began coursing through them, and Jody had been subjected to the heat all day. Her jacket had protected her face and torso, but her thighs had been slow-cooked indoors her jeans.She gritted her teeth and bolted through the dish room door into the back room of the bakery. So now its deserted. Of course, bakers work in the middle of the night and the early morning. At sundown the dishwasher would be the all guy static in the building.She found her way to the stockroom, then out into the alley. She could see the entries to both(prenominal) of their lofts from the end of the alley, and fortunately, no one appeared to be watching from the street. There were lights on in the new loft and she made her way to the door, her legs hot with every step.She listened at the door did what she thought of as reaching out. If she focused she could almost hear shapes, depending on the ambient noise. There was someone in the loft she could hear the heartbeat, industrial music playing in headphones, the shuffling of a body a light body dancing. It was the cod, Abby Normal. Where in the hell was Tommy? He couldnt be far from the loft the sun had gone down unless five minutes ago.Jody pounded on the door, but the shuffling sounds upstairs didnt sort rhythm, and she pounded again, this time leaving a dent in the metal door. Fuck, the kid has the headphones cranked and cant hear a thing.Jody shivered, although not because of the cold, but because the hunger was rising in her. Her body telling her she needed to feed so she could heal.Shed only do it once before, and wasnt sure she could pull it off again, but she needed to get into the loft and leave a lockable door intact. She concentrated as the old vampire had taught her, and gradually, she felt herself fading sack to mist.Monet was no longer spruced up as the statue guy, no longer in timbre not that character, anyway. flat he was the masta-blasta, gansta-rappa, full-ninja-badass and a bag of mothafuckin chips, bi-yatch bent on revenge and whatnot. Hed stipulation up midafternoon on making any money and had gone kinsfolk to remove his makeup and lick his wounds. Hed taken a vicious ass-whuppin today, even if it was only to his ego. simply now he was rolling with his homies, P.J. and Fly, they would put that bronze muthafucka down if he was nonoperational around. If he didnt run away like a little bitch.You strapped? Fly said, ad seriousing his do-rag as he drove his ten-year-old Honda polite with rims worth more than the rest of the car.Huh? Monet inquired.Do you have a weapon? Fly said, enunciating all Royal Shakespeare Company precise.Oh, yeah. Monet pulled the Glock out of his waistband and showed it to Fly.Nigga, put that shit down, said P.J., who was in the backseat, wearing a Phat Pharm tracksuit that was four sizes too b ig for him.Sorry, Monet said, tucking the gun back into the waistband of his jeans. Hed borrowed the Glock rented it, really from a real gangsta in Hunters Point, who needed it back in two hours or hed tutelage another twenty-five bucks. Before he gave Monet the gun, he made him damn that no one would be wearing gang colors, so zilch Monet did could come back on him. Monet had made the assurance, then, after P.J. did a Google try for gang colors, they settled on orange do-rags, since no gang seemed to call for that one.Highway Safety Posse, yo, Monet had said.Yo, Stone Tangerine Thugs, yo, suggested Fly.Yo, yo, yo, check it out, said P.J., with enough hand gestures that any deaf person watching would have thought he had ASL Tourettes syndrome. Cheesy Goldfish Crew.Yo, dog, thats so stupid its not stupid, Monet said.Is that good? asked Fly.Yo, dog, get in character. Fly was a bad actor. They were all in the same acting class.He should have fair(a) hired real gangsters to do t his. P.J. was probably outlet to trip over the legs of his track puff and completely ruin their intimidation.This is it, Fly said, pulling off the street, right up onto the sidewalk of the Embarcadero by the Ferry Building. That him?Thats him, Monet said. There was no one around but the occasional passing car, but the new statue guy still stood there.Remember, Fly said. Walk. Dont run up. Just walk, like you got all the time in the world. Use your sense memories.Right, right, right, Monet said. He and P.J. got out of the car and quickstepped across the bricks to where the statue guy was running his game. Damn, he was good, didnt even flinch.As he reached the statue guy, Monet raised the Glock and the bbl connected with the statues forehead. Bi-yatch There was a dull clank.Whoa, P.J. said. Nigga really is a statue.Monet tapped the statue, three dull clanks. Yep. tho he got all that money in his shoes, P.J. said.Well, take it, stupid, Monet said.Yo, step off, Monet. Im not the one that got upstaged by a statue. conclude up, Monet said.P.J. was grabbing handfuls of bills out of the Big Gulp cups at the statues feet and shoving them into his pockets. Must be a G here, G.Yo, Monet said. Help me get the statue into the car.P.J. stood and got one shoulder under the statue and essay to lift it, while Monet tucked the gun in his pants and got under the other. They dragged the statue only a couple of feet before they had to set it down and sire their breath.Motherfucker heavy, P.J. said.Would you guys come on Fly screamed from the car, totally out of character now.Fuck this, Monet said. This whole thing was just too embarrassing. Hed paid rent on the gun, hadnt he? He drew the Glock from his waistband and squeezed one off at the statue.Shit, P.J. said, ducking. Are you crazy?Bi-atch need to learn a Monets description was choked off.P.J. stood up and looked back. There was smoke streaming out of the green goddess hole in the statue, and in the second he watched, it had formed into a hand and grabbed Monet by the throat. P.J. turned to run, but something caught the hood of his tracksuit and yanked him back off his feet. He could hear Monet gagging and choking. Then he felt a sharp pain in the side of his neck and he felt all of a sudden light-headed.The last thing he saw was Fly peeling away in the Honda.Chapter SeventeenBeing the Chronicles of Abby NormalNewly Baptized Minion of the darkBow before me, skeezy mortals, for now I see you for the pathetic little rodents that you are. Scurry before my dazzling darkness, daysters, for I am your mistress, your queen, your goddess I have been brought into the fold I am Abigail Von Normal, NOSFERATU, bitchesSort of.OMG. It was so fucking cool like coming twice with Skittles and a Coke. I was in the loft, spacing into my jams on my MP3 player. I had downloaded the latest Dead Can name CD (Death Boots Badonka Mix) at the Starbucks and it was totally transcendent. I was transported to an ancient Romanian castle, where everyone had make X and was dancing totally chill and sensuous (with perfect hair). I was grinding a free-form booty dance on the armchair perfecting my dance gestalt when I saw some smoke coming in under the door.(I cant wait to dance with Jared to this new CD. Hes so breathing out to love this move I do. Thats what I love about dancing with gay guys. If they get wood during a booty dance, you can just take it as a compliment, not an agenda. Jared said that if I was a guy, he would totally muck up my dick. He can be so sweet.)So I pulled out one of my headphones and I was like, Whoa, fire in the staircase sucks to be me. Theres only one exit, so, you know, coloredened Abby coming up.But the smoke formed into a pillar, and then it started growing arms and legs. When I saw it had eyes I ran into the bedroom and shut the door. I wasnt trippin or anything, just totally calm. But it wasnt like when your friends hold your hair while you puke and tell you i ts just the drugs and youll be okay so I went for the safe thing of lockup the door so I could assess the situation. Then the door just splodes into splinters and theres the Countess, totally naked, standing in the doorway with the knob in her hand. And she was totally hot, except that her legs were all fucked up, like they were burned or decayed or something.So Im all, You totally wrecked your deposit.And the Countess like grabs my hair and pulls me to her and bites my neck, just like that. It didnt really hurt it was more surprising like you woke up from getting a root canal to find your dentist going down on you. Well, not exactly like that more mystical. But still, surprising. (Okay, it hurt, but not as much as the time Lily try to pierce our nipples with a compass from geometry class and an ice cube. Youch)She olfactioned like burning meat, and I tried to push her away, but it was like my limbs were paralyzed or there was a fat guy sitting on me like I was buried alive or something, just watching it find out. And then I started to get lightheaded and I thought I was going to pass out. Thats when the ho dropped me.She goes, Go downstairs and get my clothes off the sidewalk. And make coffee.And Im like, Wait a minute, I just lost my fatality rate virginity, shouldnt I get a cigarette and a fucking pass over or something? But I just said, Okay, because where the Countess was all burned was meliorate while I watched, and it was kind of freaking me out to be looking at her naked, burned-up thighs and her totally red pubes anyway. So I went downstairs and just outside the door there was a homeless guy mining through a pile of clothes. Well, really, he was sniffing her panties. And because I dont feel we always do enough to help the homeless, I was like, Take them, and tell no one what you witnessed here tonight.(I was already feeling the superiority of my Nosferatitude, so it only seemed appropriate that I go all noblesse oblige on his ass.) So of f he went to sniff the lacy crotch of the undead while I went back upstairs to find coffee filters.So when I get up there the Countess is dressed and hair brushed and shes all, Where is Tommy? bedevil you seen Tommy? Did you talk to those cops? And wheres Tommy?And I was all, Countess, begging your pardon and shit, but you need to chill. The vampyre Flood was gone when I got here this morning, and so was that bronze statue from the other side. I thought you guys went off to sleep in the damp womb of your indigenous soil or something.Yuck goes the Countess. Then she tightens down all of sudden. Make me a cup of coffee, two sugars, and squeeze one of those vials of seam into it and call us a cab.And I was like, Hey, step off, Countess. Im one of you and you are not the boss of me and And she said, I said for us, didnt I?So I did her bidding well, our bidding, really and we took a cab over to the Marina Safeway, but why we didnt transform into barmy and fly is beyond me. Anyway , we were there in ten minutes. But as we start to pull in, the Countess tells the driver to keep going.She was all, Its Rivera and Cavuto. This is not good.The POS brown cop car was parked in front of the store. I was all, Cops? Their shit is weak.She seemed affect that I knew the cops, but I told her how I had owned them like the little wussy-boys that they are and I could tell that the Countess was feeling pretty good about bringing me into the dark fold of the coven.Then she was all, Fucking Clint hes telling them about Tommy.But I couldnt even see what she was looking at beyond the big glass front of the Safeway. I stab my powers will vex as time goes on. Five hundred years is a long time to get your vampyre kung fu down.The Countess had the driver drop us at gather Mason, so we could still see the front of the Safeway, and we stood in the fog like the creatures of the night that we were while we waited for the cops to leave.Then the Countess put her arm around my shoulder s and she was all, Abby, Im unconsolable I, uh, attacked you like that. I was hurt really badly and to heal I needed fresh blood. I wasnt really in control of myself. It wont happen again.No worries, I told her. Im honored to be promoted. Besides, it was kind of hot. Which it was, you know, except for the smell of burning flesh and stuff.And she was all, Well, thanks for looking out for us.And I was all, Pardon, Countess, but why are we at the Safeway? Because its not like we needed groceries.And she was all, These guys used to work with Tommy, and one of them knows that he is, uh, one of the children of the night. I think they might know something about where he is now.Then, over at the Safeway, we saw this goofy-looking guy with frizzy hair and glasses unlock the front door and let the cops out. They got in their car and the frizzy guy locked the front door behind them.Showtime, said the Countess. She zipped up her leather jacket, took a pair of sunglasses out of her jacket pocke t, and put them on. She goes, Stay back, Abby. Ill be right back. Then she started across the parking lot toward the Safeway, taking big strides and looking all nonesuch of vengeance, with her red hair flying out behind her, and the lights shining down on her through the fog.I was like, Oh shitShe didnt even slow down. When she got about ten feet from the front window she snatched up one of the steel-reinforced trash cans like it was made of cardboard and flung it through the window. And she just kept walking piddling cubes of galosh glass rained down on her and she just walked through the front of the store like she owned it and everyone in it which she did.Before I even got in the store, she was coming back around the corner, dragging the frizzy-haired guy by the throat. She threw him up against a rack of wine nursing bottles, which shattered, spilling red all over the floor and splattering the registers and stuff.I was all, Oh, dog, Countess gonna crack open a twoscore of w hup-ass on you now. Oh, you in the shit now, wigga (I am not inclined to use hip-hop vernacular often, but there are times when, like French, it just better expresses the sentiment of the moment.)Just then the whole ring of guys Id seen in the limo came running around the corner. The Countess snatched a wine bottle off the rack, and without a second of hesitation, she threw it and it hit the first guy, a tall, hippie-looking guy, right in the middle of the forehead and he went down like he was shot.She goes, Back and they all headed back around the corner the way they came, except the hippie-looking guy, who was out cold.Then the Countess picked up the guy with glasses by the throat. And even though he was like a foot taller than her, she whipped him around like a rag doll until he was screaming stuff about Satan and Jesus and telling her to get behind him and shit. And the Countess was all, Where is Tommy?And he was all, I dont know. I dont know.And the Countess grabbed him by the hair and held his head steady against the wine rack. strong chilly, she says, Clint, Im going to take your right eye now. Then if you dont tell me where Tommy is, Im going to take your left. Ready. On three. One TwoThen hes all, I didnt have anything to do with it. Shes the spawn of Satan, I told them that.Three goes the Countess.Hes in Lashs apartment on Northpoint. I dont know the number.And the Countess just yells Number? out to the whole store.And the black guy pops up from behind a display of Cheerios and is all, Six cardinal Northpoint, Apartment 301. And one of the other guys pulls him back down.Then the Countess is all, Thank you. If hes hurt, Ill be back. And she throws the Clint guy through a rack of Doritos, which exploded their nacho cheesy trade good all over the place.Then shes all, Well, thats a nice surprise.And Im all, That Lord Flood is in an apartment on Northpoint?I didnt think they would really know. I just didnt know where else to start.Probably your senses attuned to Lord Floods presence over the eons, I said, like a total tard.And shes all, Lets go, Abby.And I dont know why, I guess because I had like low blood sugar or something from blood loss, but I was like, Can I get some mussitate?And she was all, Sure. Grab some coffee, too. Whole beans. Were almost out.So I did. And when I caught up with her, she was halfway across the parking lot, headed back toward Ghirardelli Square, and little pieces of safety glass were still shining in her hair and she smiled at me when I caught up and I just couldnt help myself, because that was the coolest thing Id ever seen. Ever And I was all, Countess, I love you.And she put her arm around me and kissed me on the forehead and goes, Lets get Tommy.I guess Ill start feeling my vampyre powers tomorrow night, but right now I feel like a total fucking loser. But I am so going to rule when school starts again.