A/N: One shot. A letter from our dear Carl to a fan from long ago.

Dearest Mari Amber:

I beg your pardon for communicating with you so presumptuously, I'm sure, but as life goes on I find I'm searching for things to do. I confess to being most incredibly bored here underneath the Vatican; Van Helsing long since stopped letting me do experiments on him, the Cardinal has banned anyone from dancing the Macarena, and American Idol has been most disappointing this season. I had considered as an option actually traveling to America to perform on the show, thus bringing it out of an undeniable slump, but Van Helsing caught wind of the plan and locked me up in the lavatory for three days, till I agreed to stay home. Ha! If he can't have fun, he doesn't want anyone else to have fun. I would have offered to take him with me, perhaps, but he can't sing. He can howl. But he can't sing.

Then, when innocently surfing the Net, and being very surprised by the proliferation of pop-up ads offering me a girlfriend and an IPod at a very low price, I came across some of the "fanfics" that your erstwhile friend "Random-Battlecry" had scribbled. I was most distressed by the times I was portrayed as a sex object! Well... perhaps "distressed" is not the correct word... but something along those lines. "Pleased" might be closer to the reality. "Ecstatic." "Overjoyed." You get the idea. However, I did notice a reference to you as a "fan" of mine, and was most impressed! Of course you are well known to those of us underneath the Vatican (Cardinal Jinette was most suspicious of you for a while, and we were very nearly sent on a werewolf hunt) and your name has been bandied about many a time! Especially when we break open the sacrificial wine. We sacrifice the wine quite often, at least three times a day. Speaking of which, I must remember to find that bottle-opener! I think Van Helsing hid it. He can do so without fear of repercussion for himself, because the Vatican in general is greatly afraid of him; also, he's been known to open bottles with his teeth. So he's not worried.

At any rate, I decided almost at once to write you a letter, thanking you for your faith in me. I'd say I felt like God, if that wasn't so extremely sacriligious. And the Cardinal peers over my shoulder now and then. Sneaky! He's suspicious of everyone. He thinks that I, if not actually a vampire, have at least some supernatural tendencies. I'm tempted to bite his neck and see what he does. Hmm... can a Cardinal excommunicate himself? What fun it would be to find out...

I digress. I often do. It happens. I am quite bored. The sequel, I'm sure you've heard, was postponed, and therefore my last chance for true Hollywood stardom is done away with most tragically. I still entertain the concept of "monk porn". It'd be an easy way to break into the business. At least, that's what Van Helsing tells me. He hasn't exactly explained what "monk porn" entails, but as it sounds much like "corn" I can't imagine that there's anything too bad about it. I enjoy corn very much. I'm not sure how "monk corn" would work, but perhaps its that all-important P that makes all the difference. Van Helsing assures me that there is both money and fame involved in the venture. I really shall have to investigate.

Well, that's enough pontificating from me! I've got a circus to attend! We're going to try to get the Bearded Lady to admit to being a servant of the devil. Yes, yes, I know, we're scraping the bottom of the barrel. But, honestly, we must keep ourselves occupied one way or another! Idle hands are the devil's playthings... which leads me to be curious about what Cardinal Jinette does in his time off...

Hmm.

I think I shall try biting him, and see if I get infected. Anything in the name of science.

Yours till next time,
Carl Edward Maine Hampton,
Friar/Monk