Chapter 1 - A Night Club and A Paper Bag
Submitted May 31, 2007 Updated December 8, 2007 Status Complete | What happens when my friends and I get kidnapped by vampires? Utter insaneness, that's what! Some chapters may contain sexual content and violence
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Chapter 1 - A Night Club and A Paper Bag
Chapter 1 - A Night Club and A Paper Bag
Vampires...? Are You Kidding Us?
Chapter 1: A Night Club and a Paper Bag
All characters except Nanc © me
Nanc © Nanc
MBS POV
“Why are we going there again?” I asked, placing a bag with a crappily drawn smiley face on it over my head. “You know I hate night clubs. They’re too loud.” Hey, me name is Monkey_banana_smoothie, but you can call me MBS for short. Or shinolover94. Or SL94. Or SMBLS94. Or something on the lines of that.
“Same reason you’re wearing that bag over your head, MBS, and a scarf when it’s the middle of summer,” my Italian friend, Nanc, answered back. Nanc’s real name is Nancy Carcioppolo. She’s totally awesome. Why? She’s Italian. That’s why. Duh, dude.
The two of us were going to some night club. Nanc was driving. We were in her car. MMMM! So comfy...oh, sorry. It’s one of those cars that runs on the stuff in corn. I like corn. It has a weird name. I wonder where corn originates. Hmmm....I don’t care. Anyway, she was wearing a white v-neck shirt. The sleeves went to her elbow. Under that she had on a sleeveless maroon shirt. She also had on a pink skirt with a belt put so that the buckle was near her right hip.
I was wearing an outfit that had, probably, everyone on the streets—and in their own cars—always looked weirded out by. I don’t get that. I was wearing a purple scarf—I luv purple—and a paper bag ^^—I luv paper. My shirt was a red polo shirt—I luv red ^^. My jeans were black—I luv black and jeans ^^. My shoes were green high tops—I like high tops and green ^^. Hehe. Sorry. We finally came to a stop.
“Red light?” I asked. (I can’t see through the bag!!! >.<)
“Nope, we’re here,” she answered.
“Ah.”
I got out of the care. That probably also had people staring...more. I’m about...six foot something? Six foot four, I believe. Yep, I tall.
I heard foot steps and I fallowed—thinking they belonged to Nanc. I then got tired of that and wanted to see. I stopped in my tracks—and the foot steps stopped too—and lifted up my bag. It wasn’t Nanc...it was some dude.
He had cool contacts. And shreds. And fake vamp teeth. And bod. Dude, he hott. Yep.
Stop thinking that. You don’t even know him.
Dude, like that never stopped MBS before!
....true.
I then noticed he was looking at me. Oh, gosh. What I to do?! He looked totally hot, if I do say so my self. His arms were covered in fishnet. His hair blew in the wind. It was very long. Black. Ponytail. Drooling in pickle mind. His shirt was black with two huge buckles on it. His pants were ripped. Still drooling in pickle mind. His eyes glowed yellow. He had slits for pupils...MBS still drooling in mind. He also had combat boots on. His—most likely fake—vamp teeth shown. “DUUUDE! Awesome contacts! And shreds!” I said to him, amazed by his eyes and clothes.
“Same with you,” he answered sarcastically and then added, “Along with the bag. What’s your name?”
“Dude, I am the one, the only, monkey_banana_smoothie, but you can call me MBS for short, or shinolover94 or SL94 or something on the lines of those two...four! What’s yours?”
“I cannot give you that information...yet.”
“HUH?! WHA’?! Dude, you gotta tell me!”
“Nope.” He then stepped a bit closer to me. We were about a foot apart now. And MBS’s brain now is drowning in drool...and doesn’t notice because brain still drooling.
He then lifted up his hand. I looked slightly at it. He then hit me in my neck.
WTF, DUDE?!
THE HOTT DUDE ATTCKED ME?! OR WHAT?! IS THAT’S A DUDE’S WAY OF FLIRTING?!?!
I told you, but did you listen, NOOOO!
Oh, SHUT UP, PURPLE!
I remembered I felt dizzy. I was suddenly on the floor. I then blacked out. I remember something was still there, though. Two things, actually. A dancing Hershey® bar and a dancing Oscar Mayer Weiner® hot dog.
Yay! Dance, chocolate and---Wait a second...chocolate reminds me of cocoa, and cocoa reminds me of Cocoa my old hamster, and that reminds me that he’s dead. WHY MUST THE GOOD DIE YOUNG!!! sob, sob
NANC POV
~few minutes earlier than then~
I got out of my car and looked to the passenger side. “Hey, MBS! Where are you going? Why are you fallowing that dude? Did you fall again for some stranger?” I called after her. She didn’t hear me.
I guess she’ll make it inside shortly. Plus, I guess it’ll help her not be so shy! She needs to do things like that and—She’s still wearing the paper bag. Sigh....
Sometimes she can be...very different. Hey, is that Z?!
♪Do, do, do, something Italian, do, do, do♪
I noticed the guy that MBS walked off with (more like, fallowed idiotically) heading towards me with—IS THAT MBS?! SHE’S KNOCKED OUT!!!!
“OH MY GOSH! WHAT HAPPENED TO HER?!” I asked the guy as he sat her down in the seat next to me. (MBS: Nanc is in a restaurant—wait—I’m supposed to be knocked out! BLEEEEEE)
“She’ll be fine,” he said casually. I noticed his teach. Maybe that’s because it’s a Friday night, and everyone pretty much goes insane. He stood up and looked over at me. We both were a foot apart. Who is this guy? He sends chills up and down my spine? And what happened to MBS?
He stared at me for a couple of seconds before he spoke. “You are her friend, correct?”
“Correct.”
“Do you know why she was fallowing me?”
“No clue. That’s MBS for you. Bag over her head because...well, I don’t really know. No one knows much about her. My name’s Nancy Carcioppolo, what’s yours?”
“It doesn’t matter,” was the last thing he said before hitting me in my neck with something (MBS: sounds familiar? Wait...I’m still supposed to be knocked out!)
I stared at him as well as I could, grasping my neck and I asked him weakly, “Wh...what did you...do?”
“You’ll see when you wake up, human.”
“Human...?”
To Be Continued...
MBS: There you go, the first chapter! Wait, I’m still supposed to be in a comma-knocked-out thing! Anyway, you’ll see who that dude is....IN CHAPTER 2: TWO VAMPIRES! ONE SMART, ONE JERKY!
Chapter 1: A Night Club and a Paper Bag
All characters except Nanc © me
Nanc © Nanc
MBS POV
“Why are we going there again?” I asked, placing a bag with a crappily drawn smiley face on it over my head. “You know I hate night clubs. They’re too loud.” Hey, me name is Monkey_banana_smoothie, but you can call me MBS for short. Or shinolover94. Or SL94. Or SMBLS94. Or something on the lines of that.
“Same reason you’re wearing that bag over your head, MBS, and a scarf when it’s the middle of summer,” my Italian friend, Nanc, answered back. Nanc’s real name is Nancy Carcioppolo. She’s totally awesome. Why? She’s Italian. That’s why. Duh, dude.
The two of us were going to some night club. Nanc was driving. We were in her car. MMMM! So comfy...oh, sorry. It’s one of those cars that runs on the stuff in corn. I like corn. It has a weird name. I wonder where corn originates. Hmmm....I don’t care. Anyway, she was wearing a white v-neck shirt. The sleeves went to her elbow. Under that she had on a sleeveless maroon shirt. She also had on a pink skirt with a belt put so that the buckle was near her right hip.
I was wearing an outfit that had, probably, everyone on the streets—and in their own cars—always looked weirded out by. I don’t get that. I was wearing a purple scarf—I luv purple—and a paper bag ^^—I luv paper. My shirt was a red polo shirt—I luv red ^^. My jeans were black—I luv black and jeans ^^. My shoes were green high tops—I like high tops and green ^^. Hehe. Sorry. We finally came to a stop.
“Red light?” I asked. (I can’t see through the bag!!! >.<)
“Nope, we’re here,” she answered.
“Ah.”
I got out of the care. That probably also had people staring...more. I’m about...six foot something? Six foot four, I believe. Yep, I tall.
I heard foot steps and I fallowed—thinking they belonged to Nanc. I then got tired of that and wanted to see. I stopped in my tracks—and the foot steps stopped too—and lifted up my bag. It wasn’t Nanc...it was some dude.
He had cool contacts. And shreds. And fake vamp teeth. And bod. Dude, he hott. Yep.
Stop thinking that. You don’t even know him.
Dude, like that never stopped MBS before!
....true.
I then noticed he was looking at me. Oh, gosh. What I to do?! He looked totally hot, if I do say so my self. His arms were covered in fishnet. His hair blew in the wind. It was very long. Black. Ponytail. Drooling in pickle mind. His shirt was black with two huge buckles on it. His pants were ripped. Still drooling in pickle mind. His eyes glowed yellow. He had slits for pupils...MBS still drooling in mind. He also had combat boots on. His—most likely fake—vamp teeth shown. “DUUUDE! Awesome contacts! And shreds!” I said to him, amazed by his eyes and clothes.
“Same with you,” he answered sarcastically and then added, “Along with the bag. What’s your name?”
“Dude, I am the one, the only, monkey_banana_smoothie, but you can call me MBS for short, or shinolover94 or SL94 or something on the lines of those two...four! What’s yours?”
“I cannot give you that information...yet.”
“HUH?! WHA’?! Dude, you gotta tell me!”
“Nope.” He then stepped a bit closer to me. We were about a foot apart now. And MBS’s brain now is drowning in drool...and doesn’t notice because brain still drooling.
He then lifted up his hand. I looked slightly at it. He then hit me in my neck.
WTF, DUDE?!
THE HOTT DUDE ATTCKED ME?! OR WHAT?! IS THAT’S A DUDE’S WAY OF FLIRTING?!?!
I told you, but did you listen, NOOOO!
Oh, SHUT UP, PURPLE!
I remembered I felt dizzy. I was suddenly on the floor. I then blacked out. I remember something was still there, though. Two things, actually. A dancing Hershey® bar and a dancing Oscar Mayer Weiner® hot dog.
Yay! Dance, chocolate and---Wait a second...chocolate reminds me of cocoa, and cocoa reminds me of Cocoa my old hamster, and that reminds me that he’s dead. WHY MUST THE GOOD DIE YOUNG!!! sob, sob
NANC POV
~few minutes earlier than then~
I got out of my car and looked to the passenger side. “Hey, MBS! Where are you going? Why are you fallowing that dude? Did you fall again for some stranger?” I called after her. She didn’t hear me.
I guess she’ll make it inside shortly. Plus, I guess it’ll help her not be so shy! She needs to do things like that and—She’s still wearing the paper bag. Sigh....
Sometimes she can be...very different. Hey, is that Z?!
♪Do, do, do, something Italian, do, do, do♪
I noticed the guy that MBS walked off with (more like, fallowed idiotically) heading towards me with—IS THAT MBS?! SHE’S KNOCKED OUT!!!!
“OH MY GOSH! WHAT HAPPENED TO HER?!” I asked the guy as he sat her down in the seat next to me. (MBS: Nanc is in a restaurant—wait—I’m supposed to be knocked out! BLEEEEEE)
“She’ll be fine,” he said casually. I noticed his teach. Maybe that’s because it’s a Friday night, and everyone pretty much goes insane. He stood up and looked over at me. We both were a foot apart. Who is this guy? He sends chills up and down my spine? And what happened to MBS?
He stared at me for a couple of seconds before he spoke. “You are her friend, correct?”
“Correct.”
“Do you know why she was fallowing me?”
“No clue. That’s MBS for you. Bag over her head because...well, I don’t really know. No one knows much about her. My name’s Nancy Carcioppolo, what’s yours?”
“It doesn’t matter,” was the last thing he said before hitting me in my neck with something (MBS: sounds familiar? Wait...I’m still supposed to be knocked out!)
I stared at him as well as I could, grasping my neck and I asked him weakly, “Wh...what did you...do?”
“You’ll see when you wake up, human.”
“Human...?”
To Be Continued...
MBS: There you go, the first chapter! Wait, I’m still supposed to be in a comma-knocked-out thing! Anyway, you’ll see who that dude is....IN CHAPTER 2: TWO VAMPIRES! ONE SMART, ONE JERKY!
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