Crappy Draqula Fan Fiction

by Lil' Angie (age 36)

So ... there they are, the band, Benny and the Jets, opening up for Crappy Dracula. I can see the Drappy Crapula band members from behind the stage, looking anxious to get out and disappoint a whole new audience.

But ... before they can "hit the stage" ((industry speak for grab more beers from Benny and the Jets' rider spread)) I stopped them. I, dear reader, am the God Of Shame. In the name of all that builds me up and tears others down, I knew I must stop them, lest thee stop all that is unnatural and regret-filled. "Rat tails," I said, as I wave my hand over the napes of their respective necks. "Can we go now?" asked Brock, their spritely drummer. I waited as rat tails of varying size and color grew from the bottoms of their hair lines. Then, I braided and bejeweled the rat tails. They were ready to push the ego limits of tolerance. "Goooooooooooo ... my seedlings," I mistakenly said to a nearby bouncer, who, for some reason in my faulty memory, had the head of a fish. Somehow understanding or having just grown tired of my announcements, Crappy Dracula left -- rat tails in tact -- and entered the stage to near applause.

The rest of the night was kind of a blur. I'm pretty sure they played/talked through their set as usual. Did they play "Success"? Maybe. Um, what else ... Oh, lights, someone really put on a light show. The heckling from the crowd was funny, though I can't remember why. Next thing I remember, I was on the couch of my ex, Rick, the one who manages the Abercrombie. God, it just felt so right with him.

As for the band, well, they were rushed off to spend the rest of their days in an old, haunted amusement park ride, where they bring big bucks to a dying fair. The creatures are mad after an attempt to kill them, so the creatures go on a rampage through the fairgrounds, ultimately leading to an explosive conclusion! This end was eerily similar to the plot to "Ghoulies II", resulting in a lawsuit that left Crappy Dracula broke, stupid and playing salty dives throughout the Midwest and Rust Belt. The end? ----

Now, here is some other stuff that Angelfire had on the "Building a Web Page" template which we were too lazy/amused by to remove.

What will happen next to our favorite stuper-mensch?


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