Yeah. That bastard...Law&Order used to be more satisfying before we met. And, now, because I must flog Dopplegangland and suck on its bones...the latest Vamp!Munchkin.
KAY
Somehow, I knew costumes would come into my relationship with the Munchkin eventually. It had to happen...he would start mumbling about “tragic inevitability” or something I’m sure. You should count your blessings I’m telling this part cause I’ve heard him go on and on about agave...or something like that. It’s true I owe some wild nights to tequila, but that isn’t the same...tequila’s not Greek, is it? I should ask Billy Constantine over at the 2-7 when I get back to Balmer again. On second thought, this is not a story for the squad.
It started simply enough. Munch, as my witness, was telling me where the evidence was. “I have some,” he said. “It’s back at the lair, though.”
“Hey, there, Little Red Riding Hood.” I quoted.
“What?” he asked, fake-innocent.
“ Get serious, John. Like I’m just gonna go into a vampire’s bedroom. I was born at night, not last night. Buddy, I’d take backup into your place human, huh? Let me just round up Gunn and Wesley, and we’ll hit the ground running.”
“But what about Darla and the minions? If Dirty Harry Potter goes charging in there, things could get ugly.”I give him my “Who gives a shit?” face...third most common detective expression, if you’re playing at home.
“For him, too, I mean,” Munch says. “The Princess smells him, it’s curtains.”
“She could *smell* him? You’re just living all kinds of twisted little fantasies here, aren’t you?”
“ Believe it or not, it has a down side. But I’m not out of suggestions. How do you feel about parties?”
“Have you sucked a pharmacist?”
“Yes. The effect was strangely underwhelming. But that’s a story for another day. Now we must prepare for the Wolfram and Hart Annual Revue. You’re going undercover, babe.”
He shows me the little piece of black dominatrix wear I’d be wearing to this shindig. Tight, and leather, and things. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph...I was embarrassed just looking at it.
”No. Unh huh. Cause you see, Munchkin, undercover usually implies a cover bigger than a rubber postage stamp. My breasts are gonna come in the room five minutes before I do.”
“I’ve noticed.” And the bastard smiles. “Terrible terrible thing...for noble public servant Kay Howard. But not for Kay Howard, fledgling minion.”
“Unbelievable. Gee thinks I’m resting, Munchkin.”
“Don’t forget the shoes,” the putz says, tossing me three inch black hooker spikes.
“Next time I worry about somebody, I suffer in silence.”
“That’s what all my women say.’