||DRACULA SO GAI LOL!
Stage Three: What a terrible night to have a curse...
Simon Belmont of the Belmont Clan
Date 31st of October in the year of our Lord 1698
Unto thee I do commit the harrowing details of my great tragedy, that of which I shall now entail here. It is the pit of night and, with no light on the horizon, I carry forward on this, my accursed quest, to bring forth the foul demon that I had once vanquished. Verily, it was from that undead scoundrel, Dracula himself, that this curse was placed upon my head. After having risked my very soul entering the Count's Castle with only my enchanted whip at my side I stood man to beast against the darkest and most unclean of foes. I faced zombies, bats, werewolves, swamp creatures, Medusa and her stony glance, skeleton's, mages, dark knights, dragons, mummies, and finally the Lord of Darkness himself. Swallowing the terror, my heart stalwart, I stared into his menacing yellow eyes and they stared back as though stealing away my very soul. With a whispered prayer I struck my final blow with all I could muster, sending the seemingly immortal soldier of evil back to the dankest levels of hell. No doubt pierced upon the horns of Satan Dracula would see no rest as he spent an eternity on the forked tongue of the beast himself. My journey seemingly ended I retired to my Hungarian abode to find respite in the arms of family and friends.
Oh, diary if only the story had ended there but, alas, it was not to be. You see, unlike my ancestors before me, my true passion was not hunting or slaying vampires. To the contrary the most slaying I had done was watching my Buffy DVDs on my totally sweet home theater system. Verily that is not the point, diary though indeed it is related. You see vampire hunting is not a booming business endeavor and my purse had nary more than five pieces of silver in it. Since this is medievil Hungary, DVDs don't come on the cheap. So I hooked myself up with the my chill holmies at ye olde Netflix. Indeed, diary, it was glorious. Glorious until the fateful day that the curse began.
It was a night like any other. The hearth warm with a pleasant fire and me in my Nintendo chair I scored from my uncle last Christmas. I had just settled down to watch the end of Disc 2 of Degrassi the Next Generation when I felt a sudden chill. The wind that blew through my cottage quieted the fireplace to a whisper when, suddenly, the flame burst out of it's home with an ethereal, blue glow. Slowly the heat subsided and took on the ghoulish visage of Dracula!
"What up, Simon Bitchmont," he said laughing in the spluttering blue pyre. I always hated when he called me that, and I told him time and again that my ancestors changed our family name generations ago when they emigrated here from Spain. But does he listen?
"Prithee, infernal beast, what business hast thou in my hearth? Thou shouldst be suffering eternal torment at the hands of Lucifer himself, but instead you darken my pious abode with your demonic image. Explain this offense and then begone from my sight, lest you incur my noble wrath. Answer me and leave, or I shall totally use up all my hearts to do that stopwatch thing and freeze you in place while I watch the rest of my Canadian young adult programming."
"Oh, come now, Whippy. You know the veil of the afterlife holds no limits on me, I who live undeath eternal, I who hold Death himself as a minion beneath my heel."
"Yeah, I've been meaning to ask you about that. The Angel of Death is like one of the last minibosses before you. How does a vampire outrank the Grim Reaper? Furthermore, how are you even able to die if Death is your servant. I shouldn't have been able to kill you in the first place."
"Never mind about that! I don't have free night-time minutes on this thing and you're running up my bill! I have used my unearthly powers, Simone, to inform you that with my dying breath I cursed you. Undying breath. Because I don't die. Or breathe. With my undying unbreath I... screw it. When you cast me from the earthly plane with your stupid whip. How does that thing work anyway, I'm a fucking vampire. It's a whip."
"The same way as the stopwatch, I guess."
"I don't care. The point is, I cursed you! Cursed! Currrrrrssed." Truly diary, he drew the last syllable out in a hushed breath like a bad community theatre actor. My anger flared, and I prepared to douse the fire with holy water and return to my righteously deserved evening off watching television. Forsooth, I hadst quested bravely and vanquished my foe, and it was time to reap the peaceful rewards of victory, not bandy tireless words with an annoying twit. Alas, before I could act, he finally came to the frickin point.
"As you banished me into darkness, so shall darkness befall you. I shall take your greatest love from you, Belmont. I will use the unholy forces of darkness that rule Netflix to deny you your one release in life. Your account shall be throttled, and it will take you a really, really long time to get anything you want! Not only will they not mail your dvds out for and extra day or two, they'll send them from really far away!"
"NO WAI! WTF GAI!"
"Dude, have you looked in a mirror lately? Truly with thine skirt and whip of leather it is thee who uses the wooden stake as a dildo."
"That was an accident. Anyone could have forgotten they'd plunged their faithful stake into their vibrating chair from the Sharper Image. Plus? You are totally a vampire which equals automatic supreme gayness."
"I'm a vampire, not Tom Cruise." This is all tangential to the point, Nancy, which is that you are going to collect my organs and resurrect me."
"I'll never cave to your whims, poor man's Anne Rice!"
"Guess what, Tiny? The teen drama your watching is about to end, cliffhanger style! I can guarantee it will take at least a month to get the next disc and, seriously, who knows when you'll see the Jay and Silent Bob guest appearences."
"... your suck factor has reached a new level. You know that the Askewniverse is my greatest weakness. I will do as you say."
With that, dear diary, Dracula disappeared in a cloud of smoke. Since that evening not a single red envelope has arrived. After lying in my own depression for a few days I began the dark quest to regain Dracula's organs though, considering how he went all dusty and everything, I'm not exactly certain how the fuck there can be any organs. You know what, diary? Fuck this I'm just going to find a twig, a skeleton bone, and a jar of clay. Then I'll call Macgyver so he can break the curse... in 14 seconds.
Thus ends this entry.