How Not to Vampire - Season 2

15. The Consequence of Laughing

"You wanna get out and ask them?" King snapped.

"Oh great, so it's ignore Sammy time!" Sammy growled. "In that case, I volunteer Bob as tribute." My brief reprieve had ended all too soon. I sighed. She was clearly going to continue to be pissed at me all night. Not that she didn't have a damned good reason of course with me being such a jackass while under the influence of Ibrahaim, king of the assholes.

The limo swerved again, barely a shake, the engine roaring as thecar accelerated. I glanced out the window to see that the other Cadillac had caught up with us. King glanced out the back window and then back to me, a little panicked.

"You—" He paused and grimaced as he made the mental adjustment. "Ibrahaim has been pissing Harry off all week. I mean, he's been causing no end of trouble," King chuckled. "Harry wants to make an example out of Ibrahaim in front of his followers, to remind everybody who's the boss. I really need to talk to him cuz he and me, we're friends... but I don't know you. No offense."

"Fuck you, I'm taking offense," I replied. "I'm better than this fucking parasite in here." I tapped the side of my head for emphasis. "You should hear me sing Karaoke."

Sammy shook her head. "Can you stop the car and let me off? Y'all a buncha psychos and I want no part of this."

"Fine! I'll let you talk to him," I lied. I then closed my eyes and pretended to concentrate deeply. Countless horror movies over the years had prepared me to know how to act when a spirit is taking over your body, so I was ready for this.

Ibrahaim was apparently ready for me. There was an itchy feeling behind my eyeballs, which I now knew meant that in a few moments, Ibrahaim would try to take over my body. He felt so fucking eager.

Stop it! I thought angrily. Not like this! We can figure out a co-sharing deal or something.

As if you have a choice... Ibrahain sneered. You will do my bidding boy!

Get fucked, you fossil.

I opened my eyes and straightened my back, trying to imagine what the voice in my head would be like in person. I straightened my back even more and tried to be an imperious asshole.

"It is I, Ibrahaim—"

King wasn't buying it. "The fuck is that supposed to be?"

I tried again, and flourished with my hand. "Listen boy—"

"Ibrahaim doesn't sound anything like that—" King interrupted.

"He really doesn't," Meredith agreed.

"Enough!" Sammy snapped, slapping a hand down on the leather, venting her frustration. "I'm so done with this shit and with nobody telling me what the fuck is going on! Why the fuck are people trying to kill you, Bob? You're a nobody!"

"I have no idea what's going on—" I blustered.

"That just makes it worse, you cunt-nozzle!" Sammy hissed. "We'll just fucking put that on my fucking headstone when I get fucking killed because of something you fucking did: Death due to fucking cluelessness!"

"Whoa, that's a lot of fucks—" King said with a smile, clearly impressed with Sammy's grasp of the language. Sammy wheeled on him.

"And who the fuck even are you?" Sammy snarled. "Hip-hop artist? Check! Total hottie, fucking check." Her lip curled as her glare intensified. "Threatening us with death? Yeah... as far as I'm concerned, you're just as bad as Bob! And don't even get me started on your chauffeur--"

King smirked in my direction and laughed good-naturedly when I flipped him off. "First of all, you don't want to fuck with the driver. Second: baby doll, I just saved your asses from some very bad vam—" he caught his mistake in time and finished lamely, "—men."