Disclaimer: Nope, not mine. But you'd know if it was.

Rating: This is PG13 for a reason, and if I could make it PG16 or something, I would.

Pairings: None, though I hint at everything.

Summary: Josef rants about the holidays throughout the year.

Warning: This work of fiction may contain material that is offensive to some people. If bashing religious and non-religious holidays bothers you, you have been warned. I would like to remind the readers that this fanfic does not reflect my opinions on any of the following: religion, politics, life, death, love and any other topic you don't like people to piss on. I am simply trying to write as a fictional character. Apologies in advance to all those who are offended.

AS I SEE IT...
Chapter 6
"That's how Uncle Edwin went!"

I woke up that fated July morning with a feeling of childishness. The thought of firing off explosives in a crowded place tends to do that to me. Yes, you guessed it! July 4th, 2008. I wasn't in the states at the time of the Revolution, but I think it's safe to say that the celebrations now are much more fun than they were in 1776.

Why, you ask? Simple. Fireworks and firewater. Nothing is more fun than feeding off drunk humans, getting trashed, then lighting off Class C explosives in the presence of small children who hate loud noises.

Then again, that may just be my opinion. But that doesn't change the fact that modern explosives are more entertaining than the ways early Americans used to entertain themselves. I mean, what's so funny about a naked guy in a barrel dancing around singing 'Yankee Doodle" in a British accent? All right, I might be entertained if I was drunk. But still… Naked guy… Explosives… I'd stick with explosives.

Until Mr. Buzzkill called me that evening as I was leaving to buy fireworks.

"Yeah, good luck with that, Josef," Mick said dully. "Fireworks are illegal in Los Angeles this year. They aren't selling them."

I could practically feel my heart shatter and fall into my stomach. "Are you sure?" I asked. "Not at all? Not even sparklers?"

"Nothing. I checked."

"Damnit!" I swore. "I knew I should've driven out to Vegas last week!" I considered my options. I could buy the fireworks underground, but then again, the chances of my vampire associates having explosives are slim to none. Most of them don't like fire, and for good reasons. Another option would be to dig through the storage closet by the kitchen and find those fireworks I hid three years ago, but those are attached to some very bad memories I'd rather not think about.

"Before you start panicking, Josef, I think I can get us some if you're willing to cooperate," Mick said slyly.

"How so?"

"If you promise not to launch anything at any human under the age of thirteen—or Beth—I can break into the police station and steal all the contraband the police have managed to get their hands on."

I considered it for a moment. Throwing things at kids was half the fun of Independence Day, but I guess I could settle with the teenagers…

"Done. But the teenagers will be shown no mercy."

"Alright. I'll meet you later on tonight, then. Beth knows a good place in the desert where no one will find us."

I nodded. "Sounds good. I'll be launching bottle rockets off the roof if you need me."

And so, after hanging up the phone, I retrieved the bottle rockets from my storage closet and did just that for about an hour. Judging by the screams, I hit five women, two little kids, three old people, seven men, one drag queen, and a cat.

I almost added one vampire to my chart, but Mick dodged the bullet… or rocket… at the last second, and I had to settle for another old lady. "You're going to kill yourself with those, you know," he said, amused.

"I'm always careful with bottle rockets," I protested. "Well, I'm not careful to the point that it's safe for others to be around me when I'm firing them off, but I keep myself safe. After all, that's how Uncle Edwin went."

Mick sat next to me, rolling his eyes as he did so. "Do I even want to know how your Uncle Edwin went?"

"Probably not," I said. "It was pretty gruesome."

He leaned back on the cement, obviously bored or tired. "I didn't know you had an uncle."

"Oh, he wasn't my uncle," I explained. "He was a friend of mine who watched out for lots of vamps when they were first turned—myself included. He kept us out of trouble for a few years, then set us loose."

"Like your sire, then?"

"Sort of. It was hard to get blood in the 1600's, especially with the Salem Witch Trials and such. He helped us out, and I kept in contact with him."

Mick winced. "When did he die?"

I shrugged casually. "Three years ago. He may have been clever, but he was still pretty stupid."

"What happened?"

I smiled feebly. "Do you know what ben wa balls are?"

"Aren't those the balls on a string you stick up your ass?"

I nodded. "Exactly. It started when Uncle Edwin got drunk and stuck a bottle rocket up his asshole. Long story short, methane lights up quite nicely."

"He farted when the bottle rocket went off?"

"Yup. A scorched GI tract to match his scorched arse."

Mick shook his head in disbelief. "What do ben wa balls have to do with this?"

"Well, the bottle rocket didn't kill him. And he was so trashed that he didn't even seem to notice. That's when he pulled out his secret weapon."

"Which was…?"

"I thought they were ben wa balls at first, but it turned out to be five round firecrackers on a fuse string."

Mick covered his eyes. "Don't tell me…"

"Yup. He dropped his pants and stuck all five up his ass, then lit the fuse." I sighed. "It was a mess."

"Ouch."

"You can say that again," I agreed. "He was a great guy… just a bit stupid."

Mick sat up, then pointed to the bag by the edge of the roof. "See that?" he said. "It's got all the explosives you could possibly want. What do you say we light them off?"

I grinned. "Mick, my friend, you read me like a book!"

NOTE: I would like to announce that MOONLIGHT IS BACK ON IN JUST A COUPLE WEEKS! WOO-HOO!! But, for the sake of this story, Mick shall remain a vampire. Sorry, Mick!