A/N Ah, hello there, friends. Well, I'm rather new here, so please, be nice. Not my first fic, and definitely not my last, but please. Well, let's get one thing straight: I hated this 'saga'. It sucked. I just thought I'd let you know, anything you think might be too mean is meant to be. Like I said, I hated these books. I mean, really! Naming the main character after yourself! That's really fuckin' egotistical. This is a complete and total spoof, let's get that straight first. Also, I think this is set in the second book. Well, you remember when Darren meets the Reggie Veggie dude? It's set during their little confrontation after Darren went to hunt for the Little People's (Is that what they're called?) food. Well, here's what would happen if Reggie Veggie was replaced with a vegan in a trench coat.

Disclaimer: If I owned the Darren Shan saga, I would be far too busy killing myself to write this.

Darren pushed the lush vegetation out of his way. He had had no luck whatsoever finding an animal he could murder like the cold-hearted, sexually frustrated asshole that he was, so he meandered over to a pasture of sheep.

Figuring that he could add theft to first degree murder, he jumped the fence and walked through the herd of peacefully grazing animals. He saw a sick, old sheep on the hill, that looked like it need to be put out of its misery. So he ignored it. And instead walked over to a fuzzy little lamb curled up in the deep green grass next to her fuzzy little mom. Mmmm…. Lamb chops. He reached out his grubby little asshole-hands and snatched the baby away from her mother.

The baby wailed as Darren, officially the biggest asshole in the universe, laughed like a penguin on crack and held the shrieking baby over her distraught mother's head. He sauntered over to the wooded fence, carrying the lamb, her mother in tow. He clearly intended to smash the baby's head against the fence's hard surface. He raised the animal over his head, and prepared to bring it down, when-

"FREEZE, MOTHER FUCKER!" Came a loud, commanding, very sexy, voice of a young woman. A vegan wearing a trench coat (a very nice black one at that) stood not 15 feet away. You could tell she was a vegan because she was so damn smecksey. She glared at him. Darren stood there dumbly, drooling. "Put the lamb down, asshole." The vegan commanded.

"Huh? Wha?" Darren stuttered like a 'special' 5th grader just told to find the square root of pi. "What lamb?"

"The lamb in your hands, cocksucker." The vegan sighed, already frustrated with the stupidity that was Darren Shan.

"Oh, that lamb!" He realized, nearly wetting himself when he saw the animal over his head. "Nope. I gots to gives it to the Wittle Peoples. They hungry."

The vegan sighed once again, rubbing her temples. "Oh, for the love of Buddha!" She muttered, before walking right up to the half-vampire and snatching the lamb out of his hands. She placed her down by her mother, and the pair ran off happily.

"Hey! Yous can't do that!" Darren yelled, drool dribbling down his chin. He shoved the vegan. The vegan, unprepared, fell to the ground.

They say you should never hit a lady. That goes double for vegans. Do you know why?

"I'M GONNA KICK YOUR BLOODSUCKIN' ASS!" Shouted the enraged vegan as she leapt up and kicked Darren in the nuts.

But Darren doesn't have any nuts, so it didn't hurt him much. But Darren thought he had nuts, and so he thought it hurt. A lot. And the vegan thought it was hilarious watching the Nutless Wonder roll around in the grass, screaming, " Mah balls! MAH BALLS!"

The vegan didn't allow him to recover from his imaginary pain. She quickly began kicking him while he was on the ground. Darren immediately started bawling his eyes out. "FIRST YA TAKES MEH LAMB, AND THEN YA TAKES MEH BALLS, AND NOW YA'S GONNA KILL MEH!"

"Not to sound cliché, but give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you?" The vegan inquired.

"I-I-I's be yer slave! I's can be yer love slave, if'n ya want me to." He added, almost hopefully.

The vegan slapped him upside the head. "Asshole, if I wanted to fuck a vampire, do you really think I'd come to you!" She laughed hysterically at the thought.

"Why not?" He asked, sounding slightly hurt.

"Well, for one, vampires should never be as dorky as you are. It just isn't natural. They have fangs, and they should kill people, except for their one true love, who accepts them for who they are. And second- well, you're YOU! You're repulsive, dorky, a completely unoriginal concept, and you smell like a used condom." She concluded.

"Yeah, but besides that."

"UGH!" The vegan had tired of him. She whistled and the Pomeranian of Doomä came running through the field. The little black dog stopped in front of her mistress. "Kill him." The vegan jerked her head in Darren's direction.

The dog grinned, and became The World's Smallest Hellhoundä .

Darren's screams were louder than a werewolf getting his back waxed. And then… Silence.

Some say that if you go back to the faithful field, you can smell Darren's crack pipe. Or feel a droop of drool fall on you from above. And legend has that you can still hear him on cold, winter nights….

"MAH BALLS! MAH BALLS!"

A/N Ah, well, as you can see, I have a lot of spare time. Constructive criticism is welcome. Flames will be laughed at and then the Pomeranian of Doomä and I will use them to heat our tofu.