Fangtasia Stories: Vamp Fart Censor
Set at the end of Dead to the World
Pam strode into Eric's office, not bothering to knock. Eric was laid out on his sofa, motionless, staring at the ceiling. He didn't look at her, as she stood over him, hands on her hips.
"Eric, there is a minion here from Dallas, Peter Penhausenschnausen, with his child, Betty. He's visiting the area and has come to check in with you."
Eric sighed.
"Pam, that is not a real name."
"What? Betty?"
"No. The other one. You never get the names right. Didn't you store him in your vault?"
"Well, I don't know, it was something like that. He seems a bit dull and unimportant. I wasn't really listening. Shall I send him in?"
"No. Take his details and say I am otherwise indisposed. He can come back tomorrow, if he wishes."
Pam looked at him, lying there, with a troubled look on his face. She considered slapping him around the chops with one of his flip-flops and telling him to get his shit together. In the end, she decided against it, though, since she had only picked him up from Sookie's house last night, and he was obviously still confused and disoriented. Instead, she perched on the edge of the sofa next to his legs.
"Look. I know it must be difficult, not remembering what happened. I'm sure it will come to you, even if we are unable to recover your memories some other way. This is surely much better than having no memories at all, as you have only lost a few days. At least you know who you are now, and who I am."
"Have you told me everything?"
"Everything I know, yes."
"You were being very vague when it came to some things."
"I was not with you most of the time, how can I know what you were doing while I was not there?"
"How did I seem when you visited me at Sookie's house?"
Pam gave a slight smile. "I believe she took good care of you. You looked clean and well-groomed and rosy-cheeked. Think of it as a short, mysterious vacation where you get so drunk you can't remember what you did, and the photos don't develop properly."
"You keep smirking at me when I ask about Sookie. Do not think that I am not picking up on it. I am not blind, Pamela, and I know that face. You are keeping something from me."
"I am not. Why are you making such a big issue of this? We dealt with the witches, and you are yourself again. Look, all I know is that she fed you, clothed you, kept you hidden, and so on. Everything turned out fine."
Eric grew quiet and thoughtful again. Everything had turned out fine, or at least as well as could be expected. He still felt incredibly troubled. After he'd gotten home, he'd given himself a detailed forensic examination. He'd discovered that Sookie's scent was all over him, all over him, like a second skin. He'd had her blood again, he was reasonably sure of that, and their bond had definitely gotten stronger. Added to that, the strange clothes he had been wearing had been curiously spattered with brain matter. Oh, and there was a hole in his shirt, where he'd obviously been shot. Pam had not mentioned any such injuries being sustained during the battle.
"I am still missing memories. I need to speak with her. She must tell me what happened."
"Maybe you should leave it a day or two."
"Why?" Eric's response was immediate and short.
Pam shrugged and shook her head a little.
"Let things settle down, get back to normal."
"Do you think I had sex with Sookie?"
"I... I do not know for sure. I would think it quite possible, wouldn't you? You appeared to become very..."
"What?"
Pam tried to choose her words carefully.
"Close."
"Close?"
"Yes. You were not quite yourself. You seemed to..." Again with the careful word choice. Eric was growing impatient.
"Pam!"
"I don't know. You seemed to need her."
Eric's eyebrows drew together in concern.
"How do you mean, need?"
"Perhaps because she was the only one you could trust, as you did not know who anyone was, even me, and she was the one who found and offered to help you. You spent a lot of time together. She was like your... anchor, while you were at sea." She pursed her lips together, trying to refrain from saying anything more for the moment.
Eric's face grew more concerned. Of course he cared for Sookie, in his own way. But this was different. He had not needed anyone, well, ever, unless you counted his human parents, when he was a child, and of course, his maker, Appius, when he was first turned. The idea was quite alien to him.
"Should I bring you some dinner? That might make you feel better."
"I am not hungry."
Pam sighed.
"You will feel better soon. This was quite a trial for us all. I did not know whether you would ever be yourself again, or whether we would all meet our end. You had me worried."
"You did a good job, Pam."
"Well," she smiled. "It is good to have you back."
She gave him a light tap on the leg and got up from the seat, adjusting her black pencil skirt.
"Pam."
"Hmm?" She turned back around.
"Was I... did I do anything embarrassing? Anything I should be ashamed of? Was I... weak?"
"No, of course you were not weak. How can you even suggest such a thing? You were yourself, without your memories or experiences. You fought like the warrior you are, and you did not bitch about anything. You dealt with everything honorably and with the bravery which is befitting of you. Your behavior was impeccable, in what were very trying circumstances. There is absolutely nothing for you to be ashamed of."
Eric relaxed a little at these words.
"Good."
"I am pleased you are back to your usual self. We can put this whole incident behind us and move on. I had some hair pulled out, you know, and I lost an earring. I broke a nail, as well!" It grew back again, very quickly, as did the hair, but still, the inconvenience and memory of the breakage was grating on her even now. "Fucking were-witch bitches."
"We lost Chow."
"Yes." She had not realized that she would mourn him as much as she actually had. She would need to find someone else to rip the piss out of, and soon.
"He will be missed," Eric said, quietly. "He was a good vampire. Strong, loyal, and... he made a good cocktail."
"He did." Pam bowed her head and tried to think of something appropriate to say. "He also had... lots of tattoos. And nice silky hair."
"Very silky, yes. It was."
"Very."
"Like... black, hairy silk."
They paused for a moment.
"We will need to find a replacement," Pam said, finally.
"Yes. Get on to it." Vampires were nothing if not practical, and a new bartender would need to be found. Eric stood and went to sit at his desk.
Pam put her hand on the door handle, and turned again. "Are you sure I can't bring you some dinner? There are some tasty-looking dishes in this evening. How about Italian? Thai?"
"No. Truly, I am not hungry."
"Fine."
"And Pam."
"Yes?"
"Thank you. You are... your skills, you showed yourself to be very capable, in my absence. You have grown to be a quite spectacular vampire."
A rare ripple of emotion came over Pam, and her throat tightened in response. She was so happy to have Eric back, and to have made him proud.
"Check your e-mails. You have work to catch up on, and I sent you a link to a new mainstreaming video, Peruvian style. Well worth a look. I'd better go get rid of Petey Pintzenschnitzel." She gave him a wink and closed the door behind her.
Eric gave a slight smile. He waited a moment, and then lifted his hand to his face and sniffed his wrist. The scent was fainter now, since he had showered. He pulled at a lock of his hair and sniffed that, but mainly smelled his shampoo (Herbal Essences Dazzling Shine). He lifted the sleeve of his t-shirt and ran his nose down the full length of his other arm. He caught a trace of honey and cream and sunshine, and something deep inside him cried out for Sookie. He inhaled more deeply. The smell of her was like being wrapped in a comfortable furry blanket, and the scent made him feel warm, and safe, and loved.
He fought with himself for about ten minutes. Finally, he slipped on his jacket, and flew to Bon Temps.
V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V
"Whoah, whoah there."
Bill slowly appeared from the right of the camera, riding a llama. It took him a few tries, but he tugged on the reins, and finally got the animal to stop.
"Hi there. My name is William Compton. I was made vampire in 1868."
He patted the llama's neck, before turning back to camera.
"I'm here in the beautiful country of Peru."
The llama started twitching and shifting nervously, while making honking noises.
"Today, I'm going to talk to you about how to mainstream on vacation."
The llama started bucking, and Bill had to grab onto it's hairy neck. The camera followed, as the animal went trotting off down a dark dusty road, Bill riding it like a bucking bronco.
"Whoah!"
Eric flung his head back and laughed out loud, rocking back in his office chair. Oh Compton, you absolute tool.
The next shot saw Bill in full Peruvian outfit; a straw hat, brightly colored striped poncho, and white pants. He was standing at the end of a line of Peruvian musicians, playing panpipes and small guitars, in front of what looked to be a municipal fountain. Bill was joining in, blowing into some panpipes. The song stopped abruptly, and suddenly all that could be heard was Bill blowing raspberry noises. Someone laughed and a couple of people clapped.
"Oh! Ha," Bill smiled.
The Peruvian musicians were not amused. Bill turned to camera, slightly embarrassed.
"With the latest developments in vampire travel, it is so much easier these days to visit different places, and experience other cultures. Visiting new countries can be a very rewarding experience for those of us who are attempting to mainstream."
Bill handed over the panpipes, and one of the men snatched them off him. They began to talk amongst themselves, and Bill drifted out of shot, slowly side-stepping like a crab.
Next, the camera was watching him as he climbed some stone ruins by moonlight, quickly and with little effort. When he reached the top, he smiled at the camera, and was pretending to be tired and out of breath. He ran a hand across his forehead in mock-fatigue.
"Phew! Remember, wherever in the world you are visiting, you are representing our kind, and should always be respectful of cultures and lifestyles different from our own. For example", Bill laughed, "in some more rural and remote villages here in Peru, humans compete to make the biggest pom poms." He shook his head. "They wear crazy bowl hats, and they think the poncho is more stylish than a nice sports jacket. Lots of them are missing important teeth," he added, seriously. "Still, you shouldn't let these things stop you from integrating with the locals, and learning about their unique ways of life."
"Fucking idiot," Eric mumbled.
The camera cut to Bill sitting at a table in what looked like a small cantina, clapping along as a couple of the locals did some sort of traditional dance. He turned to the camera, smiling.
"Here in Peru, I have been delighted and overwhelmed by the kindness and warm welcomes I've received. I have also visited many beautiful historical sites, such as Machu Picchu, and have enjoyed a relaxing canoe ride on Lake Titicaca."
Eric snorted.
"Titty."
"Many tours can now be taken at night, and even small establishments like this one stock synthetic blood for vampire tourists. So there is no danger of being caught short and having to sample the local cuisine." Bill laughed at his little joke, and an old lady who had been dancing beckoned him with her hand.
"Oh, no," Eric said out loud to himself. "He's not actually going to... oh yes, yes he is."
The camera panned as Bill began dancing with the old lady, linking arms with her and an old man, and they began to move in a circle, kicking their legs.
Eric watched for a little while longer, shaking his head, before he paused the video and wrote on the comments wall.
Bill Compton has sex with toothless old Peruvian grandmothers. And llamas.
He went back to catching up with some paperwork. A few minutes later, when he was going to check the rest of his e-mails, he noticed that another comment had been added after his.
Who is this? If you do not like mainstreaming, Vamptastic12inch, then perhaps you should visit some other website.
MainstreamBilly1868
Then another appeared.
Here here!
VeggieVamp4Eva
Eric smiled and typed another comment.
Sorry, is this for real? I thought it was a piss-take. Drink some real blood, you pussy.
There was a knock at the door.
"Come."
It was Bobby Burnham, Eric's daytime lackey.
"Ah, Bobby."
"You called for me, sir?"
"I did." Eric lifted a bag from beneath his desk and pulled out a large, brown duffel coat. "What the fuck is this?"
"You asked me to purchase a warm, ladies winter coat."
"I think my directions were a little more specific."
"Hmm?" Bobby cocked his head, feigning confusion.
"This is a shapeless brown woolen duffel coat, two sizes too big. I said red, top of the line, stylish, and sexy, yet warm and practical. Would you say that this coat matches that description?"
"I think it's very sexy, actually."
"Really?"
"Should I take it back, and purchase something more appropriate?"
"No. I will do it myself, since you cannot be trusted to purchase a ladies coat."
Bobby started to get all twitchy and started stammering.
"B-but the lady at the store said it was one of their best sellers."
"What store was it? Hideous Brown Coats R Us? Do not make such a foolish error of judgment again." Bobby's lip quivered slightly, and he looked like he was going to start crying. Eric just couldn't cope with grown man weepage. "Look, just do something useful, will you? Go to my house and sort out my laundry."
"Of course, sir."
"And Bobby, do you happen to have any idea what might be happening to my underwear?"
"Your underwear?"
"Yes," Eric sighed. "It keeps going missing, and I am not happy about it. I believe as a result of said underpant losses I may recently have been placed in a very embarrassing red bikini brief predicament." He couldn't be sure Sookie had seen them, but where had they gone? They must surely still be at her house. He had checked the machine on her back porch when he'd been round the other day, but had only found her blood-spattered blue coat. He cringed inside once again as he remembered the tiny red Hoff briefs.
"I'll get onto it, sir."
"That will be all, Bobby."
He backed out the door and closed it behind him.
Eric looked at the horrific brown coat and shook his head. He thought about asking Pam to buy something suitable, but even though he knew she'd pick well, she'd ask too many questions about the purchase of a coat gift for Sookie. Instead, he turned back to his laptop, and typed 'designer ladies coat' into a search engine. He spent the next 3 hours shopping online, agonizing over which red coat Sookie would like best.
V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V
The following night was Monday, a quiet one for the bar, which was closed to the public tonight. Pam walked into Eric's office. She was wearing a tight, skimpy brown leather studded outfit, and a long brown wig.
"Oh, I don't believe it. You're not even ready."
"What?" Eric asked, not looking up from his desk.
"You know what. I told you, we're having a special party for Clancy's 100th vampire birthday. Fancy dress, heroes and villains. Don't pretend like you forgot."
Eric leaned his head back and groaned.
"Pam, I already said, I am not dressing up. Clancy's not 100 anyway, he's 94. He lies about his age. I have things to do."
"Like what?"
"Like... important sheriff matters. You left some things in quite a mess, Pamela, particularly these staff rotations. What happened?"
Pam crossed her arms and stomped a little.
"It was unbelievably busy, there were all sorts of problems. People calling in sick because their limbs had been bent back in strange directions, and so forth. On top of which, I was trying to keep you safe with Sookie, figure out how to break the curse, and get rid of the witches. I broke a nail, I lost some hair..."
"An earring..."
"Yes! I did. It was a very trying time for me."
Pam pouted again and they just stared at each other for a few seconds.
"Are you done?" Eric asked.
Pam took an unnecessary deep breath and exhaled.
"Yes."
"Now, do you want to tell me what this is really all about?"
"What?" Pam's eyes became distinctly shifty.
"Do not think that you can get one past me. I was not born yesterday. I was born in the 11th Century AD. Spill it, Pam."
"I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about."
"You would not allow me to go out into the bar earlier, and you are doing the shifty eye thing. Also, as I have already told you, I know that it is not Clancy's 100th vampire birthday."
"He said it was."
"Is this party for me, perchance?"
Pam had been rumbled, and she knew it.
"Why do you always ruin it!"
"You know how I hate surprises. I have no idea why you thought this would be a good thing to do. I was always going to find out, anyway. You are quite hopeless when trying to keep something from me."
"I thought you could do with some fun, that is all. I think we have reason for celebration."
Eric noticed that Pam looked a little upset that he was not more excited about the party, but he just couldn't face a large group of people tonight.
"I am not in the party mood, Pam. Perhaps you could come around to mine, after work, and we can celebrate on our own. We can get Boggle out, or Jenga, or Guitar Hero. You can do my hair, and take Polaroid photographs of me cooking, or dressed up like a lady. I know you like that."
Pam pursed her lips, considering it. "That does sound like a fun evening. But everyone has been invited. I will look like a fool if you don't turn up to the surprise party I organized for you."
Eric groaned.
"Pam."
"When you walk down the street, other vampires will point at you and laugh and go 'look, there he is, that vampire who made the fool child who could not organize a surprise party'. Come on. Get your outfit on. Cleo's already here, and I invited some of the other sheriffs. You need to put on a good show."
They stared at each other.
"No."
There was some more staring. It turned into a sort of stare-out competition. Pam finally caved in and looked away, stamping her foot.
"Eric, it took me ages to find your costume. Just come out for half an hour."
"I don't like my costume, it's stupid. Why did you get me that one?"
"It's perfect. Come on."
Eric sighed heavily and closed his eyes.
"Pam..."
He was going to tell her to fuck off out of his office, but when he opened his eyes again and looked at her, she had her bottom lip out, and her eyebrows were drawn together in a sad puppy-type way. He hated it when she did that.
"Don't give me that face."
"For me?" she pouted. "Your little Pam Pam."
"You are pure evil. I cannot believe that I created such a monster."
Pam smiled.
"Everything is in the closet. You will look fantastic. I will send one of the staff in to help with the fake tan. Remember to be surprised."
She closed the door behind her before he could have a chance to argue.
V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V
The party was already well under way when Eric finally emerged from his office.
"Surprise!" Everyone cheered and raised their glasses.
"Oh, no. I wasn't expecting this. What a surprise," Eric said, woodenly. "As you were," he ordered, and everyone went back to what they were doing.
The bar was busy with guests, all invite only, with just a selected few fang bangers allowed. It was mostly vamps, with a few specially invited supes. There was a large banner across one wall, which read 'Congratulations Sheriff Northman on breaking your curse and defeating the idiot witches'. Some of the human staff were wandering around with trays of blood and other drinks, and Eric plucked a cocktail glass full of blood from one of them.
Pam saw him, smiled, and drifted over, with Cleo Babbit in tow. Cleo was dressed in full ornate Egyptian get-up, complete with severe black wig.
"Eric. Glad you see you are well, and all is back to normal in Area Five."
"Cleo. Thank you for coming. Nice outfit. You're... Cleopatra?"
"Of course. But I'm having a little trouble working out who you're supposed to be." Cleo looked him over. Eric's outfit was scant to say the least. He was wearing a loin cloth and some sandals, and a short-sword attached to a leather strap across his back. Oh, and a lot of fake tan.
"Jesus?" Cleo guessed.
"I know," Pam said. "Jesus, you really do look tanned."
"No, I meant is he supposed to be Jesus?"
"Jesus did not have a sword," Pam scoffed. "He was a pacifist."
"Hmm. Are you a gladiator? That Russell Crowe?"
Eric shook his head. It was a terrible choice of costume, nobody was going to guess. Pam had obviously been stuck for ideas.
"No," he sighed.
"Well, whoever you're supposed to be, you're looking fine, as usual. The tan really works."
Pam nodded and they exchanged appreciative glances.
"I can't believe you got me wearing fake tan. This had better wash off."
"Of course it will," Pam said, looking unsure.
"OK, I give in," Cleo said, finally.
"I'm Spartacus."
Pam grinned.
"No, I'm Spartacus!"
Someone else piped up.
"No, I'm Spartacus!"
"I'm Spartacus."
Eric rolled his head back and closed his eyes.
"Pam, you made me wear this just so you could do that joke."
Pam was still grinning when he finally opened his eyes.
"Oh..." She wiped away a little bloody tear. "It was a good one."
"I don't get the tan," Cleo said.
"Kirk Douglas, in the film. He was so tanned he looked crispy, don't you remember?"
"Hmm, yes."
"Running about in loin cloths all day in a hot climate, you're bound to get a tan."
"Yes, I suppose so. Did you run around in loin cloths, back in the day, Eric?" Cleo asked.
Eric shook his head a little and considered retreating back into his office.
"No," he sighed. "I was a Viking, from Northern Europe. I lived in quite a cold climate actually. The more clothes the better. We were quite civilized and advanced you know, not these raping, pillaging savages we are made out to be."
Cleo gave him a look that could be interpreted as 'who blew smoke up your ass?' and turned to Pam.
"So, Pam, I thought you were going to dress up as Hermione Granger."
"I was, but then I heard that someone might be coming as 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named' and thought better of it. I didn't want any unnecessary unpleasantness."
Eric had zilch interest in Harry Potter and took the opportunity to move on. Darth Vader was standing at the bar, looking lonely. Eric wandered over.
"Clancy."
Clancy was in the full black outfit, complete with mask and voice changer. He did the heavy breathing before speaking.
"Good evening, dark master." He did more heavy breathing. Eric thought he was going a little over the top with it, if he was being honest, but it was a costume party, so he decided not to mock him like he usually would. Not many people knew, but Clancy was a closet Sci-fi nerd. He went to those Star Trek conventions and everything, and could speak fluent Klingon.
Eric noticed that Clancy was holding a bottle of TrueBlood, but hadn't taken a drink.
"How are you going to, er..." Eric pointed at the bottle and then made a circular motion with his finger around his mouth.
Heavy breathing. "How am I...? Oh, the drink?" Heavy breathing. "There is a little hole in the mask for a straw."
Eric paused. "Did you need me to... get you a straw?"
More heavy breathing. "Oh! Oh, I see." Clancy looked at the bottle. He turned to the bar. Gerald was tending, in the absence of a replacement for Chow, and he was dressed as Frodo Baggins. "Frodo," breathe. "Do you have a straw there? Mine seems to have gone astray."
Eric looked at Gerald and shook his head.
"Did Pam get your outfit too?" Eric asked.
"Yes. She said she would get me Freddy Krueger, then she says there were only Hobbits and nuns left." Gerald handed Clancy the straw. "I knew that Maxwell Lee was already coming as Mother Teresa, so I really didn't have much choice."
Eric looked over the bar.
"Have you got the big hairy Hobbit feet?"
"Yes, look." He lifted his foot and placed it on the bar. It was bare and indeed hairy. "Pam used real hair."
Eric pulled a face. "That's disgusting. Feet off the bar, Gerald. It's unhygienic."
Clancy was struggling with the straw, which was poking out of the mask, but he couldn't get the other end into the bottle. He was moving his head and the bottle, trying to find his target, but he couldn't see properly.
"Why don't you just take off the mask for a bit, while you have a drink?"
More heavy breathing.
"And will you quit it with the breathing, like you have asthma or something. I never understood what was supposed to be so scary about a man with a shiny black head, a button nose and a cape, with breathing problems."
Clancy moved his head like he was thinking about responding or putting up an argument, but he didn't. Instead he just kept fiddling with the straw. After watching him for a little longer, Eric grabbed the bottle and put the straw in for him.
There was a sucking noise coming from the helmet, and Eric watched some of the blood disappear from the bottle.
Heavy breathing. "It's gone cold now."
"Oh, God." Eric rolled his eyes. He disengaged the straw and slapped Clancy around the side of the helmet.
"Ow."
"Who is Pam supposed to be?" Gerald asked.
"Xena Warrior Princess. She's always had a thing for Lucy Lawless."
"It's a nice outfit."
Eric looked over at Pam. She was talking with Cleo's Area Three second-in-command, Tariq, who was dressed as the Incredible Hulk. He thought about how magnificent Sookie would look in a skimpy leather bra. His mind wandered to other potential sexy heroine outfits for Sookie; Princess Leia (when enslaved by Jabba the Hut), Claire Bennett from Heroes (cheerleader), and of course, one of his own personal favorites, Lara Croft, the busty archaeologist. Lots of very pleasing costume options.
He wondered if Pam had invited her, and if so, why she hadn't come. Perhaps she was working, or she would turn up later on.
He did his rounds, greeting his guests and reluctantly made some small talk with them. Sookie never appeared, in any of his fantasy outfits, or even her Merlotte's uniform (the summer version of which had actually made it into a number of his fantasies). He left early, and when he got home, he had to spend more time on Bill's mainstreaming website, cheering himself up by mercilessly ridiculing his underling.
Unfortunately, the following day he discovered that his account was blocked, and his comments had been deleted. He had to set up a new account, and decided to use a new name.
He came up with a number of anagrams of his name, including Thin Romancer, Inert Monarch, Rich Ornament, Neon Rim Chart, Thin Crone Arm, More Inch Rant, and Cream Horn Nit. He finally settled on Mr Hot Crannie, logged in again, and typed on the comments wall.
Bill Compton + panpipes + poncho = mainstreaming idiot Peruvian fashion faux pas.
A/N: OK, I admit, I didn't spend hours making anagrams of Eric Northman, like a mad woman, I discovered that there are a number of websites that can conveniently do this for you! Best anagrams I could get for my name were An a Joke Nose, or Jean Oak Nose. Which is actually my real name, so isn't really that funny at all, to me. Why not give it a try? The fun you could have! Hours and hours, I tell you! Let me know if you come up with anything good!
So, the title, Vamp Fart Censor, is an anagram of Pam Ravenscroft (I had no idea what to call this chapter!) Fat Vamp Scorner is another good one. Using her full name Pamela there are some particularly good ones: Vamp Recants Loafer, Vamp Faecal Snorter, Renal Vamp Forecast, A Sterner Focal Vamp, Ace Vamp Flan Sorter, Art of Vamp Cleaners, Vacant Sperm Loafer, and Anal Sperm Fart Cove. I think the only one she'd really approve of in this selection is A Sterner Focal Vamp, as it sounds like a campaign slogan she might use. She definitely wouldn't recant the loafer.
And yes, I know this is a lengthy one, and there was no Amnesiac Eric. Will you forgive me? He might always turn up in a flashback later on : )
Thanks for reading, and for your support and lovely comments, as always, and to the terrific Beta extraordinaire, RubySun03.