"Sheesh, everyone around here has a one-track mind," Carl sighed, rolling his eyes.
Time slowly moved forward, Anna and Gabriel snogging, Marishka and Aleera snogging, Verona smoking, Dracula staring seductively at Carl, and Carl wondering deeply whether or not he should curl his eyelashes.
"You know," said a voice, "you guys could get on with the story."
"Who are you?" Dracula asked suspiciously.
"The writer," came a cool reply. "I'm taking self-insertion fics to the next level."
"So you're to blame for this," Anna said, pulling away from Gabriel. "You know, you could at least give him sweet-smelling breath. I mean, he may be sexy and deadly and all, but GOD you know when he's been eating garlic."
Gabriel scowled. Dracula sighed.
"So I guess that means snogging's not on the agenda today, Gabriel," he groaned.
"Nope, sorry," Gabriel replied. "You'll just have to pine over our lost love from my past life alone today."
"Oh well," Dracula said, shrugging. "At least now I can watch Buffy in peace tonight."
At that moment Carl screamed. "You are Dracula!" he exclaimed, doing the first semi-logical thing that came to mind: throwing himself out of a fifth floor window.
"Carl? Are you alright?" Anna called.
"Fine," Carl said chirpily. "I'll be fine. This is the part when Gabriel nurses me back to help and wrestles with his true undying love for me, isn't it?"
"Erm... of course not..." Gabriel muttered, pale.
Anna glared at him. He was saved from her wrath by Jinette running in suddenly, dressed in a long flowing white dress, lilac feather boa, high heels and a blonde curly wig. Jinette ran to the window.
"Carl!" he shouted. "You had so better not be late for our leg wax!"