Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

The chat was turning into a therapy session, and I was the undead, untrained, and unqualified therapist, along with the even more unqualified Martha and Jane. Rock on.

Poosh was still bleeding. I wasn’t looking much better. My left eye was shut, and I could still taste my own blood. We’d both heal. I wanted to believe the fight had been for nothing, but very little in our world happened without reason. Maybe Poosh and I had to bleed a little to find a middle ground. I wasn’t going to repeat it, and that was why the truth about Lynda had to come out. I was done covering for imaginary people.

Getting bruised and beaten to protect Augustus’ non-existent girlfriend wasn’t a top priority.

“Okay,” I said, pacing the office. “We’re going to have a productive and truthful talk. There will be no dismemberment, no setting anyone aflame, and a minimum of name-calling. We’ll come to an understanding through the truth where we can work together as a team. Got it?”

Of course, Augustus screamed. I expected no less.

Ethan sat behind his desk with a bemused expression on his face. Martha and Jane were doing what I thought might be yoga or possibly convulsing on the floor. Poosh was seated on the left side of the room on a leather settee, and the boys were on the right side of the room on the couch. Poosh was far away enough from Augustus that if she tried to castrate him, I could intervene.

“Who would like to start telling the truth?” I asked, giving Augustus a hard stare.

“Are you looking at me?” he asked warily.

“I am,” I replied. “It’s past time you come clean about a few things. If you lie all the time, no one will believe you when you tell the truth.”

“Word up, Boobs McKnockers,” Martha said, giving me a thumbs up. “A lie is like a bald spot on Jane’s ugly head. The bigger it gets, the harder it is to cover up.”

“You got that right,” Jane agreed, pointing to her sparsely-haired noggin.

“Okay… umm… thank you for that.” I turned back to Augustus. “Do you have anything to add?”

“I do,” he replied.

If I had the ability, I would have sighed with relief. I was stuck with this group, and we needed to get along to get the job done. The stakes were too high. If Lynda was looming in the background, it would be impossible.

“As we’re being honest,” he began, squirming uncomfortably. “I want to admit a few minor fibs I might have told.”

Felix paled considerably, which was impressive since he was pale to begin with. Augustus looked like he might hurl. I didn’t blame him. There was no telling how Poosh would react to the information that was about to come out.

Augustus cleared his throat and went for it. “My chosen name is Dick LaBalldong. Many call me Penis McBoner.”

Slowly crossing the room, I stood in front of the idiot and then punched him in the head. I was fully aware that I’d made the no-violence rules, but I hadn’t included knocking people out.

“You need to take some accountability, you lobotomized chicken,” I snapped. “Poosh wanted to kill me because she thought I was Lynda.”

“Can I cut in here?” Jane asked.

“Is it going to make me want to punch you in the head?” I asked, running my hands through my hair in frustration.

“Probably.”

“Then go for it,” I told her.

Jane stood up, adjusted her boob tube, and took a preemptive bow. She received applause.

“Welp, I’m just gonna say that the child who ain’t embraced by the fuckin’ village will burn that fucker down to feel some warmth.”

Her words were strangely sage, but I had no clue how they fit into the conversation.

Martha joined her buddy. “Damn straight, jackass,” she told Jane and gave her a pat on the back. “The way I see it is this. Poosh is a fuckin’ goob. She’s got that high-ass, whiny voice and a shitty rep for stealing. Right?”

I winced. This wasn’t looking good for people keeping their limbs intact.

“Correct!” Poosh screeched with a wide smile.

Knock me over with a feather…

“You got any friends?” Martha asked her.

“None!” Poosh informed the group.

Martha and Jane exchanged a loaded glance. I was terrified. Their logic was as dangerous as the grenades up their asses.

Jane was up to bat next. “And Dick LaBalldong is also a goob. Am I right?”

Augustus nodded with enthusiasm. “Oh yes! I have been struggling greatly. I’ve lost my edge and can’t find it to save my hole.”

“Soul,” I corrected him.

He was confused. “What about my hole?

“I’m not answering that,” I replied.

“My God!” he lamented. “It seems I can’t win for snoozing!”

I groaned. “Losing. You can’t win for losing.”

“That too!” he acknowledged.

Ethan cleared his throat. “We have a larger issue at hand. I’d highly suggest we let the cat out of the bag so we can move on.”

“You people keep cats in bags?” Felix asked, appalled.

Ethan rolled his neck and cracked his knuckles. I was half ready to tell him he could leave until the impromptu therapy session was over, but I held back. Honestly, I’d been dealing with this crap for ages. It was only fair for him to witness the insanity.

“No,” he said flatly. “It’s an expression. We do not keep cats in bags. And as much as it pains me—and it does pain me—I’d suggest Martha and Jane get back to the profound statement that Jane said earlier.”

“Can do, Hottie McSexybuns,” Jane told him with a shimmy. “If you’ve got a bunch of goobs and don’t ungoob them, they’re gonna goob themselves into a massive goober that will fuckin’ destroy everything they touch.” She walked over to the Demon on the settee. “Take Poopy here… She ain’t got no friends because she’s a gaping asshole. She pilfers shit and owns a fuckin’ vacuum shop. That ain’t no life. What do you think would happen if this here goober had some fuckers who cared about her and her helium-assed voice? I’d bet my crotchless booty shorts that she might be a semi-productive member of society.”

Poosh looked wildly confused. She couldn’t tell if she’d been insulted or complimented. I was kind of gob-smacked. In between the swear words, Jane had made a compassionate and excellent point.

It was Martha’s turn. “And right here,” she said, patting Augustus and Felix on their heads. “You’ve got two imbeciles who are tryin’ their best with only a smattering of fuckin’ brain cells between them in their man-bunned heads. If we took ‘em by the hands and taught ‘em that a whole bunch of wrongs is gonna get their peckers cut off, then maybe we’ve done something good for the world.”

Shocked to silence was how I would describe both Ethan and myself.

“So Pooty,” Jane said. “You got anything you wanna say to Dick LaBalldong?”

Poosh pursed her lips and looked lost.

“Cat got your tongue?” Jane asked.

Felix lost it. “What is it with you people and cats? My goodness, leave the poor animal alone. You put them in bags. You give them your tongues. Very strange.”

He was ignored.

Augustus stood up and walked to the center of the room. He screamed twice, then composed himself. “Dick LaBalldong is going to leave his goober days behind him from this day forward. At the risk of losing my penis, I shall come lean.”

“Clean,” I said, finding my voice.

“I showered this morning,” he told me. “I am clean.”

“Sorry. My bad,” I said. “Keep talking.”

Augustus faced Poosh. “Do you prefer Poosh or Pooty?” he inquired.

Poosh looked to Martha and Jane for help.

And help they did…

Martha’s brow wrinkled in thought. It was scary. “I’m thinkin’ since we’re all choosing names that fit us better, Poosh should be called Poop LaPottyBanger.”

“Love it!” Poosh squealed.

I rolled my eyes and Ethan looked like he might implode. This was too much for him. He was more accustomed to solving issues with a decree, magic or a sword. Convoluted reasoning with crazy people wasn’t his thing.

“Poop LaPottyBanger,” Augustus started. “I am beginning to understand that lying is unwise and detrimental to my bollox. I love my bollox. Because of that, I will admit that Lynda does not exist. I created the red-headed, squirrel-loving goddess to get away from you.”

“Why?” Poosh screamed in the key of Z. “I want the truth!”

I half expected the chandelier to explode. Thankfully, it didn’t.

“You can’t handle the truth,” Augustus announced, sounding distinctly like Jack Nicholson.

I exchanged a glance with Ethan. We were both on the verge of laughter. Had we entered the undead movie version of A Few Good Men ? I sure as hell hoped not.

“Okay,” I said, trying to calm the situation before it got out of hand. “I think what Augustus is trying to say is that you might have come on too strong, and he was uncomfortable, so instead of decapitating you, he made up Lynda.”

“Yes! I was being polite by not resorting to the removal of her head,” Augustus shouted. “I am not normally a fibber. I’m a warrior! It might seem that I have cold hands, but I really do have a warm fart. And if we’re getting down to bare boners, I would like to admit that I do find Poop LaPottyBanger appealing—especially her bosom. However, I prefer to be the man in the relationship. Granted, I never had a relationship, but when Poop LaPottyBanger comes on so aggressively, it makes my bollox retreat into my stomach. That is painful and looks terrible. I have lovely bollox.”

“That went so south I’m not sure what to say,” I muttered.

“I didn’t even follow that,” Ethan added, pressing the bridge of his nose.

Apparently, Poop LaPottyBanger wasn’t lost at all.

“I followed it,” Poosh bellowed, hopping up and down with glee.

The chandelier crashed to the ground. No one blinked an eye. It was far better to lose a lighting fixture than an arm, a leg, or a bollox.

“If I dye my hair red, procure a pet squirrel, stop stalking you, and refrain from threatening castration, do I have a chance at being your girlfriend?” she asked.

Augustus walked over to Felix and pulled out his phone. They both turned their backs on us and proceeded to have a private text conversation that wasn’t private at all. They, again, used the speech-to-text method.

“What do you think, my man?” Augustus asked Felix.

“I’m not sure your buttocks and bollox are safe in her hands,” he replied. “Although, if she had a pet squirrel, that’s definitely a point in her favor. She said nothing about running on the beach naked at midnight, though.”

“I love running on the beach naked at midnight,” Poosh yelled.

Neither of the idiots realized that we could hear them and kept going.

“I quite agree about the squirrel, and without provocation, Poop LaPottyBanger just waylaid our fears about naked beach running. I must say, in the latrine, she’s quite creative. In fact, I don’t believe I want Poop LaPottyBanger to change her hair color, she’s fetching as is, and her bosom is bouncy.”

“A bouncy bosom is yet another point in her favor,” Felix admitted. “I say date the Demon. If she removes your pecker, it’s over.”

“You think so? I mean, a pecker grows back.”

Felix shrugged. “You’re correct. After castration, a cock comes back two sizes bigger.”

“Really?”

“Oh yes, my man,” Felix assured him. “Shall I show you mine? I’ve been castrated twice. My rod is enormous!”

“Alrighty then,” I said in my outdoor voice. “Enough! First off, I’d like to inform you that speech-to-text is not private. We heard everything you idiots just said.”

They slowly turned around. Both looked mortified.

Felix decided to break the ice. “Would all of you like to see my rod?”

“NO!” I shouted as Martha and Jane nodded spastically. “You will keep your junk in your pants. That is not acceptable behavior.”

“My apologies. However, if anyone would like to see my cock, I can arrange private showings,” Felix added.

I electrocuted him at the same time Ethan did. It took him a full five minutes to put out the fire. Once the Vamp was only smoldering, I got back to business.

“Here’s how it’s going to go,” I said, pushing the human rag mags and the bloody note to the side, then perching on the edge of Ethan’s desk. “Poosh and Augustus will date. They will be chaperoned by Felix, Martha, and Jane.”

“What about latrine fornication?” Augustus inquired as Poosh giggled.

“Umm… you don’t need a chaperone for that,” I told him with a wince. Ethan’s choked laugh from behind me made me grin. Wiping the smile from my face, I continued. “Dating is secondary to the mission ahead. A mission that I have no clue how to get started. Right now, we’re going to have a history lesson on Damphirs, compliments of Poosh.”

“Could you call me Poop LaPottyBanger?”

“No. I could not,” I said flatly. “Although, I do have one unrelated question for you, Poosh. You’ve embezzled millions. Why do you want my Netflix login?”

“I forgot my password,” she replied.

“Makes sense to me,” Martha said.

Unbelievably, it made sense to me, too. Now, we just needed to make sense of the danger headed our way.