You Suck - By Christopher Moore Page 0,93

the snap on my UV jacket, just to make sure it was there.

So I was all, "Hey, vampyre scum."

And the formerly black and now gray one, who was like their leader, was all up in my grille, like, "We need the money, where is the money?"

And I was like, "Step off, undead-tard. There's no money."

And he was like, "Don't fuck with us. Flood and the redhead took like six hundred grand from my apartment."

And I was all, "Actually, its like five hundred and eighty-three thousand eight hundred and fifty-eight."

And he was all, "Give it!"

And all seven of them were like gathering around me - even the born-again one the Countess had thrashed - like they were going to do the massive gang-suck on me, so I had my finger on my light button all the time, in case I needed to flash-fry the motherfuckers. But I stayed chilly and I was like, "Are you high?"

And he was all, "No, I'm not high. No one is high."

And they all started whining and whatnot, all, "We can't even take a bong hit. We can't drink a beer. Our systems won't take it. Being sober sucks. We are useless undead stoners."

So I was all, "Step back and behold, bi-atches."

And I'm all taking a bottle of Stoli out of the freezer, and mixing in a glass with some of the blood from the pouches, just like the ones we left for the Countess and Lord Flood, and they're all drooling when they see the blood, so I was thinking, Dont' make me fry you.

But then I give the glass to the gray vamp, and he's all, "Sweet."

And the others are like, "Me, me, me."

So I'm like mixing Bloody Marys all around, and the greasy hippyish one is like, "Can we dunk pot cookies in this?"

And I'm like, "Of course, stoner vamp."

And they're all, "You are a goddess. And we are not worthy. And oh please, may we have some more?" Until they started to drop.

So like two minutes later there's like this big pile of passed-out vampyres in the kitchen, and I'm all, "Yo, Foo, I got your shit ready."

And Foo comes out of the bedroom, all cute, holding his UV floodlight like he's going to save me, then sees that they are all out cold and gives me a big kiss and is like, "You rock."

And I'm like, "You have no idea, my Manga-haired love toy."

And he was like, "The sedative in the blood, blah, blah, four hours, blah, blah, nerdspeak, geektalk - "

And I'm like, "Whateva, studmumn. Handle it."

So it took like two hours for Foo to do all his medical stuff with the Animals, taking some blood and doing various medical nerdism stuff to it, then putting it back in, but finally he was done and I called Jared to tell him that we were on our way to get Lord Flood and the Countess.

So I like made the other call to make sure everything was all in order and whatnot, and Foo was all, "Are you sure this is what you want to do?"

And I was all, "Foo, theirs is the greatest love of all time. It's the only thing to do."

And he was all, "Okay, as long as you're sure. Because we can do them the same as we did the others."

And I was all, "No, that won't work. They have to be together. And you don't have to live at home anymore. We'll have a completely sweet love lair."

So we did it.

Blue watched from the alley across the street as the Animals came out the security door, empty-handed, and stumbled into the street. She knew she should have gone herself, but that whole getting-burned-up thing had taught her that perhaps it was better to delegate. That they didn't have her money was bad enough, but that they didn't have her money and heat was coming off of them was disastrous. "Those dumbfucks can't get anything right," she said to herself. "I'm going to have to kill them all over again."

"I don't think so," said a voice from behind her. She whipped around, leading with her long fingernails in a swipe that would have taken off half a man's face.

Elijah caught her hand. He'd found another tracksuit, this one powder blue. "It's time to let it go. The genie must go back in the bottle, I'm afraid."

"Let me go, I need to go get my money."

"No, my dear, you don't want to do that. The residents of that loft