Meet The Family

In Her Own Words:
I'm the leader of the is little ragtag group we call a family.  I don't want be the leader but I sure as shit am not letting these other estrogen deficient blood suckers call the shots.


This is Chick, my mother.   


Chick:  Also known as Nana.  Why she won't wear underwear that isn't leather I'll never know.  Since the change, she's horny and half-dressed all the time.   The only problem is if she drinks blood from a guy and doesn't polish his knob at the same time, bad things happen.  Bad things like...

DEAD HIMBO (accidental)

And let's not forget my sister Joann, who got me into this mess.

JoAnn doesn't mean to be a pain in the ass but if Mary Poppins had an OCD sister who wished she was in an episode of Happy Days, that'd be my sister.   If JoAnn had a bladder bigger than a peanut, I'd still be middle-aged and very alive.   And can you believe she's still mad because I ate her poodle?   I should have eaten her. She's the one that turned a raccoon into a vampoon!


Jeni-- The only one of my kids that actually has some sense and refuses to be turned into one of the undead is my daughter Jeni, the voice of reason, the only reasonable one in our bunch.

Jeni

Jeni-- Chick sort of forced the fangs on JoAnn.  If she had done that to Jeni, I think Jeni would have brought out the stakes and a bottle of holy water.  Besides all of us respect Jeni and that's saying something because the women in this family have major control issues. I'm thankful for Jeni, she's our moral compass, such as it is, and even though she threatened, she's never tried to run me over with her car.


And then there is Resi. 

Now unlike JoAnn and Jeni, my younger daughter Resi embraced the vampire life with great enthusiasm.  I'm thinking that having a permanently tight ass and perky boobs for all eternity put the giddy in her giddy-up. 

l love Resi.   My girl is loyal as hell and usually follows direction unlike Chick and Joann. Most of the time I just want to hug the shit out of her. She's wicked smart, good in a fight and she pisses Dorius off. What more could I ask for?  Well. maybe she could stop tongue kissing Zaire on the dining room picnic table. That would be nice.  Jeni still eats there.

Speaking of Zaire, she's like a pitbull in a steroid rage.
 
Zaire--is hot in a muscle chick sort of way, I guess, and she loves Resi but the woman needs to learn to control her temper.  You can't just rip the throat out of any person that bumps you in the street.  Save that attitude for someone who deserves it like Christopher.

Oh, and Christopher, the viscous little midget.  He's the one who bit me. 

Christopher--I hesitated to list this little monster under family but I figure if I have to count Dorius, I have to count Christopher.  Don't be fooled because he looks like he just got out of pre-school, Christopher is a horny homicidal devil.  If he hadn't bit me in that public restroom, I'd still be alive.  Since I'm now stuck as his pseudo boss and warden, he better learn to kiss my ass or he'll end up locked in a mausoleum in Italy for the next 100 years or so.


I suppose I can't forget Dorius.

Dorius thinks he's the boss of us.  Bastard.  Technically he should have put us all down for killing a human (Chick's Himbo Accident), or for turning most of our family, not to mention JoAnn (the bane of my existence) accidentally turning a few animals.  Instead he decided to stick us with controlling Christopher and catching all the vampire animals.


Dorius is the one who put us in Critter Control.  Like I said, a bastard.

 

Family at Work

I guess I should mention my mate, Marcus.  I didn't want him for a mate, he insisted.  And he's hot.  It's hard to say no when a muscled, sexy guy wants to rock your world for all eternity but I tried, oh how I tried.

Marcus--So what's my problem with having a vampire stud at my disposable day and night?  Well, he's bossy.  He's always trying to tell me what to do.  Don't fang JoAnn.  Don't stake Dorius.  Don't hold Christopher's head in the toilet until the bubbles stop.  Be polite, Susan.  Listen Susan.  Really, I'm not sure anyone's penis is worth that kind of aggravation.  But I decided I don't have to stop screwing him until I figure out if I want to keep him.  That's fair, right?


And then there's the rest of the motley crew that Dorius (the bastard) assigned to our Critter Control team.  And I guess I'd be remiss if I didn't mention them.  They have become permanent fixtures at our house.


Gibbie--may only be two inches tall but he has an attitude that just about outranks Zaire's. (And you just know they don't get along. )

I kind of like the fairy. Well, until he opens his mouth. The little guy talks like he just took a hit off a helium balloon at a pitch that makes my eardrums ring.  And he's always hovering like a hummingbird - getting right up in everyone's faces.  First time my idiot sister saw him, she thought he was a bug and pulled out a can of Raid.  Boy, was that a big mistake.

Paul--Sure he's eye candy - smart, with a good sense of humor - but he's a damn wolf, too!

Paul pisses me off. He's always flirting with Jeni, and she flirts back!  Ain't no way I'm gonna be paper training grandkids, so it just isn't happening!  Nuff said.

Jake-- Jake-Jake-Jake.  Tell me, what can you say about a thirty foot purple dragon with a flatulence problem?

In Jake's defense, he does have issues with the women in my family.  We make him nervous.  We are a bit vocal.  But hell, he doesn't have to stink up the place or shoot a five foot flame that ignites anything in its path every time one of us goes ape-shit!  Which just happenes to be every five minutes. We've all tried to help him overcome this issue. We even bought him some Beano and Mom refilled her prescription of Valuim for him, but nothing is working so far.  All I can say is, if we have to replace the headliner in Dorius's car again, it's not my fault!

And that brings us to Mort, the last member of our team, a troll who lives in the lake behind our house.  Mort isn't around much, but when we have to chase vamped-out gators, Mort's the one to call.

Mort talk's sooo slow, with plenty of algae action between his teeth and it grosses me out.  I try to give him subtle hints by flicking my tongue around under my lips, sucking on my teeth, but it goes right over his rock-like head.  I just wish he'd grab some lake grass and give his teeth a good brush every now and then.  I'm thinking appearances don't mean much to him, but still, somebody should educate him.  Maybe I'll get Zaire on it.