Oh don't be so scared. Ladies, marriage proposals are perfectly welcome. Even though I'm a straight black woman, proposals make me feel good. Hahaha. So, I'm up to four reviews (as I write this)! YAYO! This is great for me. Seeing as I am not an essential part of ff.net, just getting one makes my day. ^_^ To quote that reverend guy in (what else?) Friday as Mrs. Parker (who is wearing a questionable outfit) is bending over to water her flowers:
"Ooooh! The Lord is my shepherd, he KNOW what I want!"
Right before he goes off to do the nasty, and promptly has his ass kicked by her cool midget husband. Hahahaha.
--------------------
Of Mutilated Cars and Albino Twins
--------------------
Well, fuck. The stars must have aligned to beat the piss out of Tyler today, because only 48 hours after his car was destroyed, he got knocked out by some Rasta albino twin, thrown onto a rack, stretched out another six inches, had to smell a werewolf who hadn't bathed in approximately three decades, realized that he despised the French, nearly was attacked by a vampire, missed out on watching "Willard", watch the same damn Twins "phase" right through his bullets, realized that he was in a house full of freaks, crashed through a coffee table, and was knocked out for the second time that day.
Also, the war between the machines and Zion was now over, the One died, his woman died too, Smith (no longer an Agent) was promptly deleted after trying to fuck with the One, Zion was left to rebuild itself and make its peace with 01, Deus ex Machina now had to figure out how to deal with the humans, and the human military was shredded to pieces. Of course, Tyler had no knowledge of this. All he knew was that he was stuck in a chateau with vampires, werewolves, ghosts, and a stupid fucking Frenchman who was yet to follow tradition and give up. Wow, Tyler hated the French.
He also despised the Twins. How DARE they phase through his bullets and deny him justice? One day, he was going to find them in their sleep and...wait. No. That wouldn't work. So instead, he would lace their...um, never mind that too. All right, so he DIDN'T know how he intended to kill those stupid white boys, but he would.
Tyler sat on his bed and looked out the window. Wow, imprisonment sucked.
A MIDI bastardization of "Get Your Freak On" blared from his coat's pocket, and Tyler suddenly remembered that he hadn't cancelled his cell phone service yet. *Please, if there is a God,* he prayed, *let it be someone I actually care about. Maybe they're wondering where I am. Then they can call the police and I can get the fuck out of here.* He answered the phone. "Hello?"
"Well, excuuuuuuse me, what the fuck do mean 'hello'? Can't you return a motherfuckin' phone call?" Holy shit. Why did God hate Tyler today? The Lord must have been laughing his ass off up in heaven, otherwise there would be no reason for his girlfriend to call him at this moment.
"Um...uh...baby, I don't think you understand?" Tyler tried weakly, and he braced himself for the oncoming blow.
"I don't UNDERSTAND? Nigga, I don't think YOU understand! I have been callin' YO house ALL motherfuckin' day! WHY can't you answer yo phone? You been fired, you ain't got nowhere to go!"
Tyler slowly began to redden, but successfully maintained his composure. "Listen, you have no idea what's going on right now --"
"Like hell I don't know what's going on! Yous probably up at that ho's house, playin' on me!"
"WHAT ho?"
"The one that you was all freaky with at the show two nights ago!"
"You mean the show that I DIDN'T go to?!"
"Don't be yelling at ME, nigga, I ain't fuckin' around on YOU!"
Tyler lost it again (what is it, the fifth time?). "Man, won't you just SHUT THE FUCK UP? I got all this shit going on right now, I don't need none of yours, ho! Keep on yapping, bitch, and I'll just come over there right now and straighten you out!" He slammed the "no" button. "Damn!"
At that moment, someone banged the door open and rushed Tyler. He bitch-slapped him away. "Hey, man, who the fuck are you and what do you want?"
His attacker stood up straight, allowing Tyler to examine him closely. The person seemed to be of Chinese or Japanese descent, and had black hair down to the shoulders. After about five seconds, Tyler cracked up for the first time in 48 hours. "Holy shit! Are you a girl or a dude?"
The attacker walked two steps forward, socked Tyler in the stomach, and grabbed the phone from Tyler's hands. "Hey! You little shit, that's my phone!"
The attacker threw the phone to the ground and stepped on it, crushing the pieces into tiny electronic bits. "The Merovingian says that you may not have a phone. And I am a male, fool." He turned on his heel, walked out of the room, and slammed the door.
Tyler glared after the man. "You're a pretty bitchy male, that's for sure."
**************
He had nothing to do. He could wander around the Chateau, but that was probably a bad idea because he was a warm-blooded creature, and most vampires are partial to blood. He could chill with Cain and Abel, probably the most civilized werewolves he had ever met, but then who knew when the Twins were going to just pop in and start being their asshole selves? He could offer to do some stuff for this terrorist Merovingian guy, but judging at what happened to the Twins, he'd rather keep his limbs intact.
Tyler stepped out of his room to stretch, and decided to take a rather careful walk, and to make sure to avoid the areas that Abel specified as vampire territory. Which was frequently changing. He came upon an old wooden chair, and as a precaution he kicked it in and pulled out long pieces that could double as wooden stakes.
He soon came upon a door leading to a room that he had not been made familiar with. "Oh, what the hell? If it's life-eater territory, I've got stakes." He pushed it open, to see a woman sitting on a couch, turning off a television screen on which she was watching Tyler's actions. *Holy shit,* he thought, *she's hot!*
The woman stood up and spoke, with a very heavy accent. "So, you are the newest victim of my husband, the Merovingian."
Tyler simply nodded, too busy trying to get a glimpse of the woman's ass.
"I am Persephone."
Tyler nodded again, and choked out, "Tyler." *Now, turn around...*
She turned to a large mirror, and pulled out a tube of lipstick. As she applied it, she said, "A long time ago, my husband was very different. I knew what love was then. I'd like to taste it...just a sample." She turned to him.
He was confused. "Um...what?"
"You experience love, yes?"
"Well...I love my momma and my aunty, if that's what you mean."
She sighed, frustrated at his oblivious reaction to her harpy-like behavior. "Not THAT kind of love...I mean --"
"OHHHHH, you mean THAT." Tyler paused, and laughed in Persephone's face. "You think I actually LIKE my girlfriend? Oh, lady, you is trippin'! She a ho! She a DUMB ho, too!"
Persephone's face darkened. "You just ruined my entire routine, you idiot."
At that moment, the Merovingian and some of his henchmen burst into the room. "Persephone! Vhat are you doing with this...coppertop?"
Persephone glared. "I do not know. Vhy don't you ask him?" She turned on her heel and stalked off. The Merovingian turned angrily to an innocent Tyler.
"Vhat do you think you are doing vith MY wife?"
Tyler's eyes widened to the size of plates. "Nothing! Absolutely nothing! If it helps you to know, SHE was coming on to ME!"
"And vhy vould she ever vant YOU?"
"Okay...so that doesn't help." Tyler searched for the proper answer frantically. "Um...I like big butts! I don't want your wife!"
"Oh, so she isn't good enough for you?"
"Er...that doesn't work either...okay! I have a girlfriend!"
The Merovingian laughed. That was a bad thing. "You don't even like your girlfriend. I saw you yelling at her on your phone."
"Argh! You have surveillance cameras in my room? You've been watching me dress!"
A vampire spoke up. "Yes, and your manhood is ridiculously small, for a black man."
Tyler glared daggers at the vampire. "Then let's see yours, you little bitch!" The vampire backed off.
"Enough!" The Merovingian had officially lost his temper. "I do not care what ze System does, kill him! Now!" The Twins smiled, and stepped forward, switchblades in hand.
Tyler reached into his pocket, and realized that his Desert Eagle was on his nightstand in his room. His eyes now much resembled beach balls, and he shrank to approximatelty a third of his original size. "Awk."
-----------------------
*looks up from her bass guitar* Oh, sorry I had to end this chapter here, but I've been kinda busy lately. Even though I'm on spring break, AP tests are coming REAL soon (too soon), I'm entered in two different film festivals with two completely different pieces that I haven't even started on, not to mention my actors are trippin' like something crazy, I still need to learn the bass tabs to the Cranberries' "Zombie", I need to find tabs for like...5 or 6 Bikini Kill songs, I still don't understand the tabs to that Daria theme song, I need to get my band thing together, I've lost all of my ideas for my zine and I need to get it done by the end of this week if I want to be on time (late zines suck), and not to mention I still need to convince my parents that going to prom with a girl (as FRIENDS) does not particularly have homosexual connotations. As you can see, you may not be able to get as many updates as I normally put out. You know that DDR song "Gentle Stress"? Who ever thought of the title should be shot. Stress can never be gentle.
Encourage me here, people. Concrit needed (I know this fic isn't as good as it could be), flames requested (I really need a laugh), and marriage proposals from any gender are completely welcome.
"What the fuck are you doing, man? It's puff, puff, pass. Puff, puff, THEN pass. You're fucking up the rotation! You lucky you my boy, man, that kinda shit can get you killed. Fucking up the rotation..."
"Ooooh! The Lord is my shepherd, he KNOW what I want!"
Right before he goes off to do the nasty, and promptly has his ass kicked by her cool midget husband. Hahahaha.
--------------------
Of Mutilated Cars and Albino Twins
--------------------
Well, fuck. The stars must have aligned to beat the piss out of Tyler today, because only 48 hours after his car was destroyed, he got knocked out by some Rasta albino twin, thrown onto a rack, stretched out another six inches, had to smell a werewolf who hadn't bathed in approximately three decades, realized that he despised the French, nearly was attacked by a vampire, missed out on watching "Willard", watch the same damn Twins "phase" right through his bullets, realized that he was in a house full of freaks, crashed through a coffee table, and was knocked out for the second time that day.
Also, the war between the machines and Zion was now over, the One died, his woman died too, Smith (no longer an Agent) was promptly deleted after trying to fuck with the One, Zion was left to rebuild itself and make its peace with 01, Deus ex Machina now had to figure out how to deal with the humans, and the human military was shredded to pieces. Of course, Tyler had no knowledge of this. All he knew was that he was stuck in a chateau with vampires, werewolves, ghosts, and a stupid fucking Frenchman who was yet to follow tradition and give up. Wow, Tyler hated the French.
He also despised the Twins. How DARE they phase through his bullets and deny him justice? One day, he was going to find them in their sleep and...wait. No. That wouldn't work. So instead, he would lace their...um, never mind that too. All right, so he DIDN'T know how he intended to kill those stupid white boys, but he would.
Tyler sat on his bed and looked out the window. Wow, imprisonment sucked.
A MIDI bastardization of "Get Your Freak On" blared from his coat's pocket, and Tyler suddenly remembered that he hadn't cancelled his cell phone service yet. *Please, if there is a God,* he prayed, *let it be someone I actually care about. Maybe they're wondering where I am. Then they can call the police and I can get the fuck out of here.* He answered the phone. "Hello?"
"Well, excuuuuuuse me, what the fuck do mean 'hello'? Can't you return a motherfuckin' phone call?" Holy shit. Why did God hate Tyler today? The Lord must have been laughing his ass off up in heaven, otherwise there would be no reason for his girlfriend to call him at this moment.
"Um...uh...baby, I don't think you understand?" Tyler tried weakly, and he braced himself for the oncoming blow.
"I don't UNDERSTAND? Nigga, I don't think YOU understand! I have been callin' YO house ALL motherfuckin' day! WHY can't you answer yo phone? You been fired, you ain't got nowhere to go!"
Tyler slowly began to redden, but successfully maintained his composure. "Listen, you have no idea what's going on right now --"
"Like hell I don't know what's going on! Yous probably up at that ho's house, playin' on me!"
"WHAT ho?"
"The one that you was all freaky with at the show two nights ago!"
"You mean the show that I DIDN'T go to?!"
"Don't be yelling at ME, nigga, I ain't fuckin' around on YOU!"
Tyler lost it again (what is it, the fifth time?). "Man, won't you just SHUT THE FUCK UP? I got all this shit going on right now, I don't need none of yours, ho! Keep on yapping, bitch, and I'll just come over there right now and straighten you out!" He slammed the "no" button. "Damn!"
At that moment, someone banged the door open and rushed Tyler. He bitch-slapped him away. "Hey, man, who the fuck are you and what do you want?"
His attacker stood up straight, allowing Tyler to examine him closely. The person seemed to be of Chinese or Japanese descent, and had black hair down to the shoulders. After about five seconds, Tyler cracked up for the first time in 48 hours. "Holy shit! Are you a girl or a dude?"
The attacker walked two steps forward, socked Tyler in the stomach, and grabbed the phone from Tyler's hands. "Hey! You little shit, that's my phone!"
The attacker threw the phone to the ground and stepped on it, crushing the pieces into tiny electronic bits. "The Merovingian says that you may not have a phone. And I am a male, fool." He turned on his heel, walked out of the room, and slammed the door.
Tyler glared after the man. "You're a pretty bitchy male, that's for sure."
**************
He had nothing to do. He could wander around the Chateau, but that was probably a bad idea because he was a warm-blooded creature, and most vampires are partial to blood. He could chill with Cain and Abel, probably the most civilized werewolves he had ever met, but then who knew when the Twins were going to just pop in and start being their asshole selves? He could offer to do some stuff for this terrorist Merovingian guy, but judging at what happened to the Twins, he'd rather keep his limbs intact.
Tyler stepped out of his room to stretch, and decided to take a rather careful walk, and to make sure to avoid the areas that Abel specified as vampire territory. Which was frequently changing. He came upon an old wooden chair, and as a precaution he kicked it in and pulled out long pieces that could double as wooden stakes.
He soon came upon a door leading to a room that he had not been made familiar with. "Oh, what the hell? If it's life-eater territory, I've got stakes." He pushed it open, to see a woman sitting on a couch, turning off a television screen on which she was watching Tyler's actions. *Holy shit,* he thought, *she's hot!*
The woman stood up and spoke, with a very heavy accent. "So, you are the newest victim of my husband, the Merovingian."
Tyler simply nodded, too busy trying to get a glimpse of the woman's ass.
"I am Persephone."
Tyler nodded again, and choked out, "Tyler." *Now, turn around...*
She turned to a large mirror, and pulled out a tube of lipstick. As she applied it, she said, "A long time ago, my husband was very different. I knew what love was then. I'd like to taste it...just a sample." She turned to him.
He was confused. "Um...what?"
"You experience love, yes?"
"Well...I love my momma and my aunty, if that's what you mean."
She sighed, frustrated at his oblivious reaction to her harpy-like behavior. "Not THAT kind of love...I mean --"
"OHHHHH, you mean THAT." Tyler paused, and laughed in Persephone's face. "You think I actually LIKE my girlfriend? Oh, lady, you is trippin'! She a ho! She a DUMB ho, too!"
Persephone's face darkened. "You just ruined my entire routine, you idiot."
At that moment, the Merovingian and some of his henchmen burst into the room. "Persephone! Vhat are you doing with this...coppertop?"
Persephone glared. "I do not know. Vhy don't you ask him?" She turned on her heel and stalked off. The Merovingian turned angrily to an innocent Tyler.
"Vhat do you think you are doing vith MY wife?"
Tyler's eyes widened to the size of plates. "Nothing! Absolutely nothing! If it helps you to know, SHE was coming on to ME!"
"And vhy vould she ever vant YOU?"
"Okay...so that doesn't help." Tyler searched for the proper answer frantically. "Um...I like big butts! I don't want your wife!"
"Oh, so she isn't good enough for you?"
"Er...that doesn't work either...okay! I have a girlfriend!"
The Merovingian laughed. That was a bad thing. "You don't even like your girlfriend. I saw you yelling at her on your phone."
"Argh! You have surveillance cameras in my room? You've been watching me dress!"
A vampire spoke up. "Yes, and your manhood is ridiculously small, for a black man."
Tyler glared daggers at the vampire. "Then let's see yours, you little bitch!" The vampire backed off.
"Enough!" The Merovingian had officially lost his temper. "I do not care what ze System does, kill him! Now!" The Twins smiled, and stepped forward, switchblades in hand.
Tyler reached into his pocket, and realized that his Desert Eagle was on his nightstand in his room. His eyes now much resembled beach balls, and he shrank to approximatelty a third of his original size. "Awk."
-----------------------
*looks up from her bass guitar* Oh, sorry I had to end this chapter here, but I've been kinda busy lately. Even though I'm on spring break, AP tests are coming REAL soon (too soon), I'm entered in two different film festivals with two completely different pieces that I haven't even started on, not to mention my actors are trippin' like something crazy, I still need to learn the bass tabs to the Cranberries' "Zombie", I need to find tabs for like...5 or 6 Bikini Kill songs, I still don't understand the tabs to that Daria theme song, I need to get my band thing together, I've lost all of my ideas for my zine and I need to get it done by the end of this week if I want to be on time (late zines suck), and not to mention I still need to convince my parents that going to prom with a girl (as FRIENDS) does not particularly have homosexual connotations. As you can see, you may not be able to get as many updates as I normally put out. You know that DDR song "Gentle Stress"? Who ever thought of the title should be shot. Stress can never be gentle.
Encourage me here, people. Concrit needed (I know this fic isn't as good as it could be), flames requested (I really need a laugh), and marriage proposals from any gender are completely welcome.
"What the fuck are you doing, man? It's puff, puff, pass. Puff, puff, THEN pass. You're fucking up the rotation! You lucky you my boy, man, that kinda shit can get you killed. Fucking up the rotation..."
