Hotspur Fills In Hobbler’s Blanks!

This is a response to Hobbler’s Mad-Lib-style story, with my words in there. I forgot to indicate which words were mine and which were hers, and I’m not going back and changing it, so there. There! You can’t stop me! Ha ha! Ha! Ha ha ha ha ha! Ha! Ha ha ha! Ha!

STORY

Today I went on a trip to the squirrel proctologist.

It really is such a beautiful building. When I got in, it was obvious that this day was going to be all about nuts. First I was met by a lovely woman who after talking for a while, wanted to walk with me in the urinals.

When we returned to the room, I could tell that we were about to pee on trees.

When it was all done, she left, and a man came into the room. He started checking me out, and soon was asking me all about myself. He told me that I looked callipygian, and called me sweetie a few times. When he was done, he said that I was better than dysentary.

Shortly after that, I was taken to another room where I was told by a different man that I had beautiful toenails. He also had a job to do, and when he was done, he asked if I wanted a snowball or minivan.

Later a woman did other licks to me. She poked and prodded all over the place, and said that I was sweet in some areas and salty in others.

I went on another walk a little later, and now I am sitting here cell phone typing while I relax and wait for them to tape my penis in.

All in all, it has been a pretty flamboyant day.

*Update: Now that I am metrosexual, I feel pretty and free. Next time I think I will give Muppets handjobs.

 

Edward Hotspur

Hunter

Journal Entries from Dr. Acula

March 6
A curious case made us all excited. It seemed that there was a man who had set a record for holding his breath. Guinness doesn’t do such records because they don’t want to encourage such acts of danger, but his record was impressive: 27 hours. We were convinced that this was due to supernatural qualities of said man. The only question was whether it was the man himself, or someone else operating through the man. More on this later.

March 7
After several experiments and much checking, we determined two things: One, that the man himself appeared to be dead for all intents and purposes, and two, the record had not been set voluntarily. The locals seem to be in two groups also, those who remember the man as being extremely fast and extremely creepy, and those who don’t remember the man at all. That first fact seemed to indicate that there was a third possibility that we had not considered – that both the man himself and the person operating through him were of the supernatural.

March 9
It was necessary to travel through New York City yesterday, and it had the consequences we were warned about. The city was overrun. Relatively, of course – it would be difficult to overrun a city of 8 million. No, but there was a much higher concentration than previously thought. They could sense our Sentinel blood, but we kept them at bay. It was the downside of being enhanced. The upside was, of course, matching them move for move and speed for speed. They were easy to avoid. We made it to Europe with little fuss.

March 10
The concentration in Paris was not as high as New York, but still high. For some reason, though, they did not attack us. This was a good sign. Could it be that what we seek is closer than ever?

March 11
Success, of a sort. Some were discovered dead. Not like the man, but completely dead in the normal way. At least, I assume that the parts we found were dead. Can’t count out the possibility that they are not, though! In any case, this means we are in the right place. We will attempt to see something, or make contact, anything.

March 12
More dead. The trail is hot! Unfortunately, so is ours. We were attacked today. Fortunately, the dead man we brought with us defended us admirably. Barely any skin was lost from the brainpan, and the skull was mildly dented. As I write this, Jones is making repairs to the left sensory control module. I heard something just now, so I will go and

“That’s the last entry, sir.”
“Very good, Jones. Any idea what happened to him?”
“Absolutely. He was captured and turned.”
“Oh no. Did you administer the-”
“He was turned completely, sir. And one more thing. I believe we have discovered who we were looking for.”
“Really? Where?”
“Right here.”
“Who?”
“It’s you, sir. You sent us to look for you. This is… unacceptable, as you know. The policy is clear. The Code is clear. Just one question – why did you do it?”
“What? What are you talking about? What makes you-”
“The tracers do not lie. You were there, right behind us. And in two cases, ahead of us. You killed them. It was you.”
“Well done, Jones. You’ve got me. Fair enough. But you’re wrong about what you’re looking for.”
“I don’t see how I could be. You are an alpha, just putting others in their places. You wanted us to root them out. You used us as bait.”
“You’re only half right. I am not one of them. Think, man. Have you ever known me to disappear? Have I ever even so much as looked at any of you in the way that they do? Have I ever expressed even a modicum of sympathy for them in any way?”
“That is true, but alphas rarely-”
“Even alphas have their favorites! I have none. You know this. Aside from you and Smith and Williams and the rest of the team, I do not have visitors.”
“I saw you, once. You had a caller. A woman.”
“Oh, did you now? That was for your benefit. I wanted you to see that. To humanize me as much as possible. For I am, at the root, based on humanity as much as they are.”
“Okay, how are you different? How are you so different from them? You use people, you kill the weak, you make sacrifices.”
“I used you to find them, yes. But the sacrifices I make are necessary for our survival. Not your survival. Not their survival. Ours.”
“”Ours, ours, ours” – who is this ‘us’ you seem to think you belong to?”
“Jones, you should have figured it out by now. Throughout time, there has been a circle of life. A food chain. And humans rose to the top for many years. The vampires rose in your midst, preying on you. They were the top for many years as well.”
“‘Were’?”
“Jones, Jones – everything has a predator. Everything.”

He stared at Jones’ shocked face for a few minutes, and then vanished.

Edward Hotspur