Chapter Four: Sick of Writing this story, I'm just gonna end it in this chapter; I hope you're okay with that. I'm just busy at the moment with University and other projects and a lack of motivation, but farewell, so long and thanks for all the fish!

Blood and gore smeared the battle zone, only occupied by the dead and the transvestite Vampire. Alucard rose to his feet.

Alucard pierced the plant that finished off the Olympic gods, reducing them to shrivel up plant matter that would soon be eaten by pigs that would shit up the side of a barn door.

A sickening crunch echoed from behind him. The remaining, stumbling mess that once was the mighty Dragula stumbled, with each step, his bones broke and blood splat in a messy violent mess that the janitor would take one look at the mess and quit and study accounting rather than clean up the mess, even though his job was to repetitive mess word repeatedly the author doesn't care anymore.

Alucard delivered one final swipe to Dragula, a swipe that TV Tropes would be all over it, the vampire was launched into space and melted in the sun and became a delectable treat for the four death ponies on faux-mars 7 during a cold winter what the hell am I writing I'm going off track again.

For the first time since his sister died of sonic dysentery, Alucard smiled (he smiled before his sister's death, not because of it).

With his mission from goddess complete, he trudged down the blood and gruel smeared hill. He thought about going into accounting now, although it may be awkward watching a muscular transvestite dwampire doing accounting but who give a shit. He reached the bottom of a hill and found a road. This road would be desolate except for the one car approaching him. Out came Biggie Smalls and 2pac.

"Punk-ass cracker, punch this inta space!" yelled 2pac as hew whipped at a Uzi a shot flaming arrows, that weren't really arrows but metal bullets into the hero.

And then he realised his whole life amounted to nothing but a kitty stuck in a sock.

I lie there dying, knowing that my story was coming to an end, my life is a stage and I can see the red curtain of my life coming down. The only thing I can think about is not what of my future kids, future wife, or my future as an accountant, all I could think about was my pwet pants, I swear I didn't skeet, Its just freaking hot!

…Okay I skeeted.

FIN.