Monday, October 17, 2005

   News Hour!
Hello, ladies and Gentlemen! This is the news. My name is Flint, and I'll be your anchor this evening.

These days, you don't hear much about monsters. You hear about dumb stuff like weather and baseball, but never, EVER, about our supernatural friends. What of the mummy? Or Frankenstein? What has happened to our friends?!

Well, reader, you're in luck. For I, Flint Marco, MyO's #1 newsman, have traveled to Transylvania to visit our dear friend, Count Dracula. Enjoy!

(Flint is thrown from a jumbo jet above the Count's mansion. He hits the ground with a boom, and after a few minutes of spasming with death, manages to rise to his feet.)

FLINT: God dammit... last time I go coach. Fucking lazy-ass pilot bastards...

(Flint walks up the ridiculously long trail leading to the mansion. Whilst walking, Flint turns to his left, and sees the wolf-man crusified.)

FLINT: Wolfie...? WOLFIE-? What have they done to you, man?!

WOLF MAN: *cough, cough* Flint... I did this... to myself...

FLINT: But... why?

WOLF MAN: Because... I saw "the passion"...

FLINT: ...that movie's two years old. The joke is beyond dated.

WOLF MAN: No, You fool! ...I'm attoning for... the sins I've committed...

FLINT: Look at you, you're just grabbing onto branches to stay up! You're not even tied to the stupid cross!

WOLF MAN: Do you have any idea how hard it would be to tie myself to this thing?!

FLINT: All I'm saying is, you shouldn't act like you're in such great pain, 'cause your not!

WOLF MAN: Fine! Jezus Christ!

(Wolfie jumps down from his cross, and quickly scurries off into the night. Flint continues on toward the mansion. He then knocks on the giant doors.)

FLINT: Dracula! Open up!

(There is a long pause. Finally, the door opens...)

DRAC: ....

FLINT: ....

DRAC: Whu' d' yoo wan'?

(Dracula, already in his golden years, looks awful. He's balding, he's got a serious weight problem, and he smells like a sewer.)

FLINT: Uh... Hola? Como estas? Me nombre is Flint...

DRAC: Eglis'!

FLINT: I'm here from myO for an interview, sir.

DRAC: Doooo I ge' paid?

FLINT: ...sure.

DRAC: 'kay. com'n.

(Dracula leads Flint into his grand mansion. Of course, now "grand" is the last word that would describe it. Almost everything is broken, trash litters the ground, and Dracula seems content in wallowing in his own filth.)

FLINT: What happened to you?!

DRAC: Whu' d'yoo think?! Stup'd movie stud'yo stop'd payin' me m' royalties, 'cause no one wuz scarred o' me no more!

FLINT: Man, that sucks.

DRAC: No, really?! Now, no one even comes over no more, 'cause no one cares about Count Drac'la! They all love stupid... Jason Vorhees 'n... that... stupid "Jeepers Creepers" bullshit!

FLINT: If no one comes over, then how do you get your... sustinance?

DRAC: Y' mean blood? Yeah, I don' drink blood no more. I survive on a steady diet o' french fries an' booze.

FLINT: What?! How do you survive?!

DRAC: I don' know, an' I don' care! I don' care if I die tomorrow!

FLINT: I can get you help, Dracula. You need to get your demons in check.

DRAC: I AM A DEMON! NOW GET OUTTA MY FRIGGIN' MANSION!

(Dracula pulls a shotgun and begins taking wild blasts, while Flint runs for his life.)

Well, now, wasn't that fun? I'm full o' fun and fancy free, like the Disney movie of the same name!

I gotta go now. See ya.

-Flint
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