THE JOURNAL OF. MRS. WILHELMINA HARKER
Day I. Number of throats sucked: I.
Met Mr. Q, a complete chauvinist pig in the grand tradition of Great White Hunters. Why M wants him to lead the League is beyond me. Anyway, found Dorian's mansion and convinced him to join us. He wants me, oh yes he does. Also picked up some fast food.
Day II. Number of throats sucked: 0.
Recruited Jekyll/Hyde, who has the most severe case of split personality disorder imaginable. Sawyer wants me, oh yes he does. Got hot and heavy with Dorian though lust was somewhat dampened when he paused the lovemaking to cough up a bullet lodged in his trachea in a manner not unlike that of a cat honking up a hairball.
I tried to laugh it off but I kept worrying that bullets would shoot out of other --- *ahem* -- body parts. Afterwards I dropped right off to sleep while sucking on my injured finger, despite Dorian whining about wanting to 'snuggle'.
Day III. Number of throats sucked: 30 or thereabouts.
Feeling rather stuffed. Saved Venice from destruction, ate a few people, Dorian is a traitorous bastard, etc. etc. Nemo v. pissy over waterlogged submarine, Skinner is missing, Mr. Q keeps mumbling to himself in that bizarre accent. Something about M being Moriarity being the Fantom. Makes no sense. On up side, Jekyll wants me, oh yes he does.
Checked girlish figure in mirror. If I keep eating bad guys at this rate, I'll be wider than the Nautilus in a few months.
Day IV. Number of throats sucked: none so far.
Skinner patted me on my bum. He wants me, oh yes he does. Found Dorian, now have v. big hole in my chest. Pinned him to wall, forced him to look at his own gnarly portrait. Seemed like good idea at the time, now I wonder why he just didn't close his eyes. Perhaps had death wish.
Speaking of death wishes, Mr. Q croaked in what I believe was a desperate attempt to escape the clutches of Sawyer. Do not blame him, Lord knows we've tried everything else to escape Sawyer. Even sent him on suicidal mission into collapsing Venetian building, bastard still did not die. Wouldn't do us that big a favor.
Day V. Number of throats sucked: none so far.
Buried Mr. Q. Kenyan sun v. bright, had to fan myself furiously. Sawyer became all teary-eyed over the grave and Nemo gave nice speech about sticking together. Agreed to join them in hopes of getting laid. They all want me, oh yes they do!
Day I. Number of throats sucked: I.
Met Mr. Q, a complete chauvinist pig in the grand tradition of Great White Hunters. Why M wants him to lead the League is beyond me. Anyway, found Dorian's mansion and convinced him to join us. He wants me, oh yes he does. Also picked up some fast food.
Day II. Number of throats sucked: 0.
Recruited Jekyll/Hyde, who has the most severe case of split personality disorder imaginable. Sawyer wants me, oh yes he does. Got hot and heavy with Dorian though lust was somewhat dampened when he paused the lovemaking to cough up a bullet lodged in his trachea in a manner not unlike that of a cat honking up a hairball.
I tried to laugh it off but I kept worrying that bullets would shoot out of other --- *ahem* -- body parts. Afterwards I dropped right off to sleep while sucking on my injured finger, despite Dorian whining about wanting to 'snuggle'.
Day III. Number of throats sucked: 30 or thereabouts.
Feeling rather stuffed. Saved Venice from destruction, ate a few people, Dorian is a traitorous bastard, etc. etc. Nemo v. pissy over waterlogged submarine, Skinner is missing, Mr. Q keeps mumbling to himself in that bizarre accent. Something about M being Moriarity being the Fantom. Makes no sense. On up side, Jekyll wants me, oh yes he does.
Checked girlish figure in mirror. If I keep eating bad guys at this rate, I'll be wider than the Nautilus in a few months.
Day IV. Number of throats sucked: none so far.
Skinner patted me on my bum. He wants me, oh yes he does. Found Dorian, now have v. big hole in my chest. Pinned him to wall, forced him to look at his own gnarly portrait. Seemed like good idea at the time, now I wonder why he just didn't close his eyes. Perhaps had death wish.
Speaking of death wishes, Mr. Q croaked in what I believe was a desperate attempt to escape the clutches of Sawyer. Do not blame him, Lord knows we've tried everything else to escape Sawyer. Even sent him on suicidal mission into collapsing Venetian building, bastard still did not die. Wouldn't do us that big a favor.
Day V. Number of throats sucked: none so far.
Buried Mr. Q. Kenyan sun v. bright, had to fan myself furiously. Sawyer became all teary-eyed over the grave and Nemo gave nice speech about sticking together. Agreed to join them in hopes of getting laid. They all want me, oh yes they do!
