I'm the hand up Mona Lisa's dress,
I'm the smile on every criminal you'll ever acquit
I'm the things you've done you'll never admit
'Cause one hand’s on the Bible and the other’s in shit!

I'm a roller, I'm a rider, number-one motherfuckin' survivor.
So move over, I'm the driver, and I'm high

And I'm gonna keep getting higher, yeah, yeah, yeah!

Explicit Content
Censorship sucks.

Dedicated to ”moral America” and every close-minded, proper-thinking asshole who’s ever tried to silence the voices that our forefathers fought and died to free.  If you don’t like what we have to say, deal with it, because you’ll never shut us up.

            “Whoa, check it out!  There goes the Space Needle!  Kaboom!”

            “HA!  Serves those grunge-fuckers right!  Your music sucks, you Seattle douche-bombs!” Stacey screamed at the computer screen.  “You flannel-wearing bitches can’t compete with the sheer girth of the—“

            “Who the fuck let you in?!”

            Stacey and Dorian spun around in their chairs, turning away from the computer towards Donita, who was standing in the living room doorway glaring at them, looking as though she’d just gotten out of bed.  Perched on her shoulder was Stephen, a purple-furred and green-skinned gutter-rat the size of a housecat, and he squeaked at them authoritatively, echoing his mommy’s question.

            The gypsy, her long purple-streaked brunette hair still disheveled from sleeping, tightened up the belt of her flowing purple robe and scowled at the pair as they stammered half-formed answers, looking like two kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar.  Their expressions grew even more fearful when the half-vampire casually dropped her hands to her hips and let purple magickal energy crackle out of them, wordlessly threatening them with horrible violence.

Finally, Dorian nervously said, “Before she left, Katheryne said it was okay if we borrowed the computer, since you guys have a high-speed connection.”

“Katheryne said it was okay if I borrowed the computer,” growled Tommy from the couch.  The dark-blond vampire made for an incongruous picture, as the scruffy denim and leather biker gear he was dressed in just didn’t mesh well with the arcane manuscripts and thick scholarly tomes piled up around him on the blue velvet sofa.  “You inconsiderate turds hijacked it while I was attempting to get my notes together.”

“Oh, bitch, bitch, bitch,” grunted Stacey, giving the professor the finger.  “If you wanted the abacus so bad, you should’ve grabbed it from us before we found something interesting.”

“You’ve been on it since the moment we got here!”

“Hey, is it my fault I can’t get this high-speed shit at my house?  We need a fast connection for this website, and all I’ve got is tin cans and string!”

“We’re really sorry about all the noise,” said Dorian, who’d noticed that Donita seemed to be getting more and more irritated as Stacey and Tommy argued.  The more annoyed the gypsy became, the greater the likelihood that somebody was going to get hurt, and the blond ladies’ man wasn’t a big fan of pain.  “Maybe we should go …”

“Fuck that!” growled Stacey.  “I’m not leaving until it’s time to go see the show!”

“This isn’t your house, you grubby little primate,” said Tommy archly.

“See if I care!”

“I don’t care if Tommy’s here, and I don’t care if Dorian’s here, but I do care if you’re here, you dildo!” snapped Donita, leveling a finger at Stacey, who had the nerve to look completely shocked.

“What did I ever do?” sputtered the black-haired vampire, sounding stunned.

“It took me three days to clean up the mess from the last time you were here!” screamed Donita, stomping into the living room.  “There was llama shit on the ceiling!”

“You had a llama in here?  You didn’t tell me that,” said Dorian, giving Stacey an odd look.

“I did not have a llama in here!  It was a burro, and—“

“You miserable deviant,” snorted Tommy derisively.

“Fuck you!” shrieked Stacey, angrily flipping the professor off.  “The monkeys wanted to play cowboys and Indians, and they were the ones who brought the guns, so I needed something to ride!  Things got out of control!  Shit happens sometimes!”

“On the ceiling?” asked Dorian.  “Since when?”

Stacey squawked when Donita reached the computer desk and grabbed him by his long, shaggy hair.  “Get the fuck out before I—that’s the biggest dick I’ve ever seen.“

The black-haired vampire looked down to check the zipper of his jeans.  “What?  Is Horsey falling out again?  OW!  Leggo my hair, you bitch!”

“Not you, the computer!” barked the gypsy, yanking on Stacey’s hair to turn his head back towards the monitor, where an enormous male reproductive organ was furiously chewing the Seattle Space Needle to shreds as the United States military made a futile effort to stop it.  “What the hell are you watching?”

Stacey slapped and smacked at Donita, trying to get his hair back from her, and then howled as she used her magick to shock him in retribution.  “What are you watching?” she demanded.  “This better not be some fucked-up porn site that’s gonna mess my computer up!”

“It’s not a porn site!” yelled Stacey as Dorian pushed his chair away from the desk, attempting to put a safe distance between himself and the two short, hostile vampires.

“There’s a giant dick on the computer screen!  What the hell else is it?!”

“It’s the Penisaurus!  If you’d just shut up and watch, you’d see that it’s something a lot better than mere porn: it’s a monster movie!”

“The Peni-whatsis?”

“The Penisaurus!” exclaimed Stacey, clearly delighted by simply saying the ridiculous-sounding word.  “It’s the newest underground monster movie from Japan!”

“Well, it’s not strictly underground,” said Dorian, who was now over by the couch.  “It’s one of the biggest movies in Japan right now, and is really packing in the crowds in a lot of other places in the world, too.  Everywhere except America, at least.  Obscenity laws and moral groups are keeping it out of most theatres over here.”

Donita frowned.  “I thought this was supposed to be the sickest country in the world, and proud of it.”

Stacey rolled his eyes.  “Not right now, it ain’t.  Time for yet another one of those stupid periods of decency where all sorts of fun gets ruined until everybody remembers that censorship and all that crap is for pussies.  Y’know, the kinda thing that happens whenever we get a raging homophobe in the White House.”

The gypsy shook her head.  “Stupidity and power are an ugly combination.  Y’know, I heard that he thinks gay people aren’t born, but actually hatch from eggs.”

Dorian scratched his head.  “I heard that he thought it was black people that hatched from eggs.”

“That was Strom Thurmond,” intoned Tommy from the couch.  “It’s also a commonly-held belief in the Midwest and Southern states.”

“Oh, okay.”

“If you ask me, it’s politicians that hatch from eggs, and cracked ones, at that.  Speaking of cracked …” said Donita, hauling off and punching Stacey in the mouth, making him scream petulantly.

“What the fuck was that for, you awful whore?!” he yowled as he felt around in his mouth for broken teeth.

“For waking me up!” snarled the gypsy, shaking her fist at him.  Stephen, who’d quietly been watching the proceedings with great amusement, twitched his whiskers and squeaked in agreement with the half-vampire’s sentiment.  “This is the one place where I shouldn’t have to worry about your dumb ass waking me up when I’m in the middle of dreaming about riding Julie Newmar’s face!”

“Julie Newmar?  Whatta fox!” said Dorian, wolf-whistling and giving Donita the thumbs-up.

“Exactly!  And she was in her Catwoman costume, too!” shouted the gypsy, punching Stacey in the mouth again, eliciting another yowl.  Tommy grinned happily.

“Stop doing that!  How was I supposed to know?!” screeched the wounded vampire.  “It’s not like I’m—what are you doing here?” he asked, looking towards the doorway on the other side of the living room.

“Now what?” snarled the gypsy, starting to turn around to see who else had shown up.

But her investigation was cut short when Stacey sucker-punched her in the mouth hard enough to knock her on her ass.  Donita looked completely astonished for a few seconds, and then started to laugh wildly, pointing at Stacey as she exclaimed, “You fucker!  You finally did it!”

In response, Stacey gleefully leaped out of his chair and struck a kung-fu pose.  “Face the wrath of the stealthy ninja!  Hiyaaaaaa!” crowed the black-haired vampire, looking extraordinarily pleased with himself.  His expression of pleasure turned to one of terrible annoyance as Stephen, quick to defend the honor of his mommy, bounded across the floor, ran up Stacey’s leg, and leaped onto the vampire’s head, where he started to bite and claw with great ferocity.

Stacey’s scream was so high-pitched that several of the dogs in the neighborhood began barking furiously in response.

After a few moments of this, Donita got back up and dragged a kicking and scratching Stephen off of Stacey’s head, laughing merrily the whole while.  “No, no, it’s okay!” she said to the big rat as he angrily squeaked and writhed in her grasp.  “For once in his life, your retarded uncle actually went and did something clever!”

“I do a lot of clever things,” growled Stacey as he wiped at the fresh cuts on his forehead.  “I’m usually just the only one who’s smart enough to get ‘em.”

Tommy snorted.

“Nobody asked you, so shaddup, you no-fun-having book-humper!”

“I’ll have you know that I have a lot of fun at your expense,” sniffed the professor.  “And I’m in the middle of writing a brilliant thesis on the process of devolution as seen in the—“

“Whoa, is that thing actually smashing the Twin Towers?” asked Donita, staring at the computer screen in what appeared to be awe.  “I thought nobody was supposed to acknowledge they even existed!”

“That’s one of the big sticking points as to why the movie got banned just about everywhere over here: the director refused to change and clean up his vision to please the current political climate, so he got banned,” said Dorian as the Penisaurus stiffened up and started to club one of the Towers into pieces on the computer screen.  “But to be fair, pretty much every American landmark gets it at one point or another.”

“Oh hey, you should see what it does to Mount Rushmore!” exclaimed Stacey, dropping back into the seat and rapidly clicking the computer’s mouse around on the website.  A few seconds later, a clip of the Penisaurus’ assault on Mount Rushmore began to play.

“That’s disgusting!” squealed Donita as she started to cackle.  “I bet the Founding Fathers would be pissed about that!”

“I dunno,” said Stacey, “We managed to get this clip up and running when we were down in the Catacombs, and when Clarisse saw it, she said that Thomas Jefferson would’ve taken it in stride, and probably would’ve laughed about it when nobody else was around.”

“Jefferson’s taking it all right, but not in his stride,” observed Dorian, giggling like a little kid.

“You said this was a Japanese film?” asked Donita, leaning closer to the screen to get a better look at the phallic carnage.  “Is that supposed to be Godzilla’s dick or something?”

“Nope,” replied Stacey.  “It’s the dick of a repressed little Japanese scientist that got sick of all the small-dick jokes Americans make about Oriental guys’ wieners, so he built a growth ray with the intention of using it to make his wang big enough to dwarf everybody’s.  He was planning on going into porn and becoming world-renowned for having the biggest shlork in the world, thus restoring the honor of his countrymen’s cocks.”

“But something went wrong, right?”

“Of course.  His dick grew so big that it got a life of its own and went on a rampage to destroy every oversized symbol of American dominance.”

“What happened to the scientist?”

“The Penisaurus ate him.”

“He got eaten by his own dick?!”

“How’s that for irony?  He was all busted up ‘cuz he had a little wienie, and then it got so monstrously huge that it ended up scarfing him down in one bite.”

“Damn, no loyalty at all.”

“I’m thinking he probably wasn’t nice enough to it during its formative years.”

On the computer screen, the Penisaurus curled up, putting its tip to its base to form an O shape, and then started to roll down a crowded city street, crushing cars, people, and everything else that got in its way.  Donita frowned.  “It was bigger in the scene with the Twin Towers … does it get shrinkage or something?”

Stacey shook his head.  “Naw, the Twin Towers part is one of the last scenes in the movie, whenever the Penisaurus is at its biggest.”

Dorian nodded.  “Yeah.  It stays only a couple hundred feet long until it gets to Texas.”

“What happens in Texas?  Does it meet the world’s biggest snatch or something?” asked the gypsy, giggling.

“Nope.  When it starts smashing up the oil fields, the president decides to drop an atom bomb on it,” answered the blond vampire.  “But instead of destroying it, the radiation just … engorges the Penisaurus until it’s like three or four times its original size.”

“Yeah!  And when they drop the bomb, the president even rides it down onto the Penisaurus while wearing a cowboy hat, just like in Dr. Strangelove!” said Stacey excitedly.  “They don’t have that clip up on this website, but they’ve got a few pictures of it, and it looks funny as hell!”

Still sitting on the couch, Tommy shook his head and asked, “What kind of mind makes a movie like this, anyway?”

Dorian guffawed.  “Actually, it’s a Japanese guy that’s sick and tired of all the jokes Americans make about the size of Oriental dicks.  I read an interview with him, and he referred to the film as a ‘cautionary semi-autobiography about the dangers of pride, envy, and repression.’”

“I’m sure Orson Welles would be thrilled,” said the professor dryly.  “Whatever happened to intelligent cautionary tales?”

“They’re boring,” said Stacey.  “A film about a giant dick pecker-slapping an entire nation is a lot more entertaining.  That’s something the whole family can enjoy and comprehend.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Well, as messed-up as it sounds,” said Dorian, sounding a bit apologetic, “Pretty much the rest of the world agrees with Stacey.  This movie’s BIG almost everywhere but America.  Like, Star Wars big.”

“Good grief,” Tommy muttered.

“There’s even an afternoon cartoon in Japan called Happy Fun Super Lifeform Penisaurus Action Hour,” added Dorian, and before Tommy could comment on that, Stacey made a sound of pure excitement.

“There’s a cartoon of this?!” he demanded, his eyes huge.

Dorian smirked.  “There’s even toys of it.”

“Toys?” Stacey echoed, sounding amazed.

Donita started laughing and couldn’t stop.

“The best-selling one is a big bendable Penisaurus figure complete with roaring sounds, vibrating action, and movable jaws.  It can even shoot a missile out of its mouth and spray water.  They can’t keep ‘em on the shelves in Japan, they sell out so fast,” said the blond vampire, his tone low and respectful, as though he were a wizard imparting important wisdom upon a disciple.

“That’s so sick that’s beautiful,” said Stacey, and he actually wiped at one of his eyes.  “Bless those crazy little fuckers overseas, bless ‘em all.”

“Hey, can you order one of those through your comic store?” asked Donita.  “I wouldn’t mind having one …”

“Ha ha!” crowed Stacey, pointing at Tommy, who looked appalled.  “Looks like you’re about to have some competition in the form of the big, bad Penisaurus!”

“I’m not afraid of any … Penisaurus,” replied Tommy, scowling as he said the last word, as though the very act of saying it was foul.

“It’s for when he’s not around!” snapped Donita, smacking Stacey in the side of the head.  “Tommy-Cat’s not a machine, for fuck’s sake!”

“There are times that I wish the entire world would just end,” muttered the professor.

“So if the cartoon’s called Happy Fun Super Lifeform Penisaurus Action Hour, what’s the actual movie called?” inquired the gypsy, nodding towards the screen.

Dorian looked at Stacey and said, “Let me guess: you want to say it, don’t you?”

Without any further encouragement, the slim vampire stood up in his chair, struck a dramatic pose, and declared in a deep, basso profundo voice, “Vengeance!  Super Lifeform Penisaurus, Go!”

Donita grinned.  “I love the way the Japanese title their stuff.  They always manage to sound stupid and important at the same time.”

Stacey dropped back onto the seat of the chair.  “Ain’t it great?  You wanna go with us when we go see it at midnight?”

“It’s here?!” asked Donita in rising excitement.

“Yeah, in a little indie theatre on the edge of town called the Rodriguez Filmatorium,” said Dorian.  “I heard a couple of guys talking about it at the shop a couple of nights ago, and they were all wound up about it.  I hadn’t even heard about the Penisaurus until then, but they told me about it, and said that tonight was going to be the L.A. debut of the movie.  So I did some research on the web, found some fan sites, and read up on the global Penisaurus phenomenon.  Then, once I’d found out everything I needed to know, I figured I’d hip Stacey to it, since it seemed like his cup of tea.”

“Damned straight,” said Stacey, giving Dorian a friendly clap on the shoulder.  “You’re all right for a girly-man, dude.”  As Dorian scowled, Stacey asked, “So you coming, gyppo?”

“Sure!  I’d love to see the horrible thing!” she replied.  “You wanna go to the movies, Stephen?” she asked the big rat, scratching him behind the ears.  “You wanna go see the Penisaurus, baby?”

Always up for a trip to the movies, Stephen loudly squeaked an affirmative, and then happily chattered his teeth as he anticipated the adventure.

“You coming, Tom?” Dorian asked the professor, who vehemently shook his head.

“Not a chance in hell.  I’ll leave the lowbrow entertainment to the people better equipped to enjoy it.”

“Oh come on, what’s wrong with the Penisaurus?” asked Stacey, sounding offended.

“For one thing, it’s one of the most ignorant names I’ve ever heard!” growled Tommy.  “The ‘saurus’ is derived from the Latin ‘sauros,’ meaning ‘lizard.’  One would therefore infer that with a name like ‘Penisaurus,’ it would be some sort of penis/lizard combination, but lizards don’t come into the creature’s origin at any point.  It’s a complete misnomer!”

Stacey stared at Tommy in disbelief for a few seconds, and then pointed at the computer screen, where the Penisaurus was chewing up an Army tank.  “Dude, the motherfucker’s got teeth!  Giant, razor-sharp teeth!  Shouldn’t that alone qualify it for a ‘saurus’ name?!”

            The professor looked directly at Stacey and flatly stated, “You’re dumb.”

            Donita looked thoughtful.  “Well, if I remember my Latin correctly, ‘dino’ is derived from ‘deinos,’ meaning terrible, so maybe a more appropriate name would be ‘Dinopenis,’ which would roughly translate as ‘terrible dick.’”

            Dorian started laughing like a hyena, while Stacey looked at everybody in disgust.  “It’s a movie about a giant, rampaging dick, and you assholes are busy arguing semantics instead of basking in its genius?  What the fuck is wrong with you guys?  Am I the only one here who can even properly appreciate this?  Man, fuck all y’all, I’m about tempted to go see this by myself!”

            “You’re not going without us!” growled Donita, and Stephen squeaked in agreement.

            “Or me!” added Dorian.  “I was the one that told you about this in the first place!”

            “As much as it pains me to say it, I think Stacey actually has a point,” said Tommy very quietly.

            Everybody, including the big rat, jerked around and stared at him.

            “He does?” asked Dorian in shock.

            “He does?” demanded Donita in disgust.

            “Squeak squeak?” prodded Stephen in disbelief.

            “I do?” inquired Stacey.  A few seconds later, he barked, “Damned right I do!”  A pause.  “What is it?”

            Giving him the evil-eye, Tommy said, “It’s a movie about a giant, rampaging dick, and we’re busy arguing semantics regarding it.  Intellectual discourse has absolutely no business in this particular context, and pursuing it is a complete waste of time.”

            Everybody digested this for a moment, and then Stacey frowned.  “What, you’re saying it’s a stupid movie?”

            Rolling his eyes, Tommy replied, “There’s no point in attributing any intellectual worth in the film, and arguing its semantics is hollow, because regardless of whatever meaning people may try to associate with the movie, it’s utter drek.  I’m saying that it’s a movie created for the lowest common denominator, and you are the lowest common denominator.  It’s not your place to discuss it.  You should just go see it and help the movie achieve its ultimate purpose.”

            “Which is?”

            “Furthering the decay of civilization as we know it.”

            Stacey looked delighted.  “Hell yeah!”

            Donita stepped over to the couch and patted Tommy on the head.  “Aw, is my poor Tommy-Cat mad because we’re using the computer to look at monster movies instead of letting him use it to translate his old texts?”

            “Yes,” replied the professor, glaring at Stacey and Dorian.  “My computer doesn’t have half the calculating ability that yours does, and with all of the extra customizations Katheryne’s put into it, your desktop unit is more powerful than most mainframes in the country.  I need to use this computer if I’m going to get these blasted runes figured out!”

            The gypsy leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, which mollified him ever-so--slightly.  “And speaking of kitty-Katheryne, where’d she run off to, leaving me to deal with you three stooges?”

            Tommy scowled at being lumped in with Stacey and Dorian in the “stooge” department, and then replied, “Over to my house to start modifications on my computer so that it’s as powerful as yours.  I was supposed to come here alone, but Beavis and Butt-Head ended up tagging along because they had nothing else in their lives to fulfill themselves with.”

            “Actually,” said Stacey as he straightened himself up in his chair to look more important, “I came along as part of an ongoing project that I’m working on.”

            Dorian glanced over at him.  “Yeah right.  What project’s that?”

            “I’m trying to see if I can annoy Tommy-Cat so much that he’ll kill himself to get away from me.”

            The blond-haired vampire looked skeptical.  “Whatever.”

            Stacey raised his eyebrows.  “Bet me and lose.  I’ve got a list of people that’ve killed themselves to get away from me, including a few famous folk that pissed me off and got their just desserts.  Steele can attest to most of the list, too, so go ask him if you don’t believe me.”  He turned to look at the annoyed professor and gave him a grin.  “Our friend here seems to be made of much sterner stuff than the average soul, though, so it’s taking a lot more work than I thought.”

            Tommy fixed Stacey with a steely glare and hissed, “It’ll take more than an evolutionary fart like you to get me to do myself in, you horrible little creature.  I’ll kill you if I have to.”

            The black-haired vampire gave Tommy a thumbs-up.  “That’s why you’re one of my favorite people, Tommy-Cat.”

            The professor’s expression changed to one of utter repulsion.  “That makes me want to kill myself more than anything else you’ve ever said or done to me.  Go and watch your … Penisaurus movie and leave me be.”

            “Yeah, let’s get going so we can get good seats,” said Dorian.  “From what I gathered, there’s a lot of subcultural interest in the Penisaurus movie, and it’s possible that the theatre could be packed.”

            “Fuck yeah.  Let’s leave Mr. Peabody behind to tinker with his Wayback Machine while we go and watch something too cool for him,” said Stacey, hopping up from the chair and heading towards the door.  “Later, you elitist pussy.”

Dorian followed suit, and gave Tommy a wave.  “Later, Tom.”

“Kill him for me,” urged the professor, nodding at the blond vampire, who chuckled as he walked off.

Tommy shook his head.  “I was serious.”

Donita gave him a hug and another kiss on the cheek.  “Aw, it’s okay, Tommy-Cat.  I’ll take the two mean boys to the movies and let you do your studying.  Maybe if I’m feeling magnanimous, I’ll even take Stacey out to the country somewhere, cut his head off, and bury him in a ditch.”

“Would you really?” asked Tommy, returning the kiss.

“Yes, Tommy-Cat, I would.  You know why?  Because you’re such a sweetie whenever you’re not being a stuffy little asshole that I’d like to kick in the eye,” said the gypsy, running her fingers through his hair and giggling at the other vampire’s irritated expression.  “All right, all right,” she said with a chuckle, “I’ll go.  Dorian told me about you burying one of your ex’s in your backyard after she messed with your work, so I know how seriously you take it.”

Tommy frowned.  “That was a particularly trying evening for me.  I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“Of course you wouldn’t.  I’d have you dead before you could blink.”

“Oh … just go to your movie.”

Stephen agreed with the professor, squeaking insistently at the gypsy, and then tugging on one of her big gold hoop earrings while lashing his long green tail around.

Donita cackled and ruffled Tommy’s hair before starting towards the door.  “I’m going, so you boys can stop complaining!  Honestly!”

“Shouldn’t you get dressed first?”

The gypsy shook her head.  “I’ve got a couple of changes of clothes out in the trunk of my car, and I’ll just get one of them out when I’m stuffing Stacey in there.”

“Oh.  Hit him with a tire iron when you do.”

“I will, don’t worry.”

A few seconds later, she was gone, leaving Tommy alone at long last.  He remained on the couch, staring off into space and muttering to himself for a time, while the clips of the Penisaurus continued to play on the computer, creating a quiet background racket of screams, roars, and explosions.  The professor stayed immobile until he heard a shriek from outside, followed by several loud thuds and more screaming, and then the slamming of a trunk.  Moments later, the powerful engine of a 1965 Cadillac Coup De Ville roared to life and sped away from the house with a horrible squealing of tires.

Tommy grinned from ear to ear.

*     *     *

            “Fucking bitch, that wasn’t cricket.”

            “Of course it wasn’t cricket.  It was a tire iron to your misshapen skull.”

            “Which is even more misshapen now thanks to you!”

            “Big baby.”

            Dorian walked down the sidewalk a little bit ahead of the arguing pair, hoping that they could get to the theatre without a major incident, though he wasn’t terribly confident of the chances.  Stacey had been especially surly since they’d let him out of the trunk at a nearby vampire-owned parking garage, and Donita was being her usual antagonistic self, so it was only a matter of time before something happened.

            “I could’ve suffocated in there!”

            “No you couldn’t.  Not only is that trunk reinforced to hold a strong vampire if necessary, it’s also rigged so that there’s a steady air supply, meaning I could hold you in there for days on end if I wanted to.”

            “What’s that supposed to mean?”

            “It means that I’m not a very nice person.”

            “You got that right.  You’re a fucking whore.”

            “What’s that supposed to mean?”

            “I didn’t say anything.”

            “Yes you did.”

            “No I didn’t.”

            “Yes you did!”

            “Nuh uh!”

            “Yuh huh!”

If things got really ugly, he supposed he could just take off at a run and leave them behind, and then go see the movie by himself.  But with his luck where those two were concerned, they’d just show up halfway through the picture and start fist-fighting each other right in the middle of the theatre.  There were actually establishments in Los Angeles that had both Stacey and Donita’s pictures posted by the entrances, with specific instructions to the employees that those two were not to be allowed in at the same time.  Nobody quite brought out the worst in each other like Stacey and Donita did.

Dorian picked up his pace a little bit, hoping that when they got to the theatre, the two would get interested in the movie and settle down.  Though he really wanted to see the Penisaurus movie, he was almost envious of Tommy, who now had all the peace and quiet he wanted.

“Hey snobby-boy!  You too good to walk with us?” Stacey called out, having noticed that Dorian was a good distance ahead of himself and Donita.

“Yeah!  Don’t wanna be seen with us or something?” asked the gypsy.

“Well, I can’t blame him, I guess.  I hate being seen with you.  People are gonna start thinking I’m slumming it with crackwhores or something.”

“Oh yeah?  Well if I was him, I wouldn’t want to be seen with you, either.  How’s he supposed to pick up women if he’s hanging around with an obvious pillow-biter like yourself?”

“What?!”

“Ooo, I love it when your voice gets all high and girly like that!”

Dorian was practically at a run now, sensing that critical mass was drawing close, and he didn’t want to be near them whenever the fists started flying.  He rounded the last corner before the Rodriguez Filmatorium, giving some serious consideration to just breaking into a sprint and getting lost amongst the moviegoers.  But before he could do his best impersonation of Mercury, he caught sight of the big crowd of angry protesters waving their signs out in front of the theatre and skidded to a stop.

“Aw, for crying out loud!” he moaned.  “Can’t anybody let anybody else just have fun anymore?”

Donita and Stacey rounded the corner a few moments later, just beginning to shove each other, and when they saw all the protesters, they both stopped and took in the sight.

There were at least several hundred people of all shapes and sizes out in front of the Filmatorium, though the color was mostly white, and they were all angrily shouting at the theatre and waving their signs around.  The signs varied in design and quality, but they all revolved around the same basic tenets: “No More Obscenity!”  “Thou Shalt Not Promote Filth!”  “Think Of The Children!”  “The Penisaurus Is Un-American!”  They were piled up in front of the box office and entrance, blocking the way for the hundreds of disgruntled moviegoers milling around and looking pissed-off.  Several police cars were parked nearby, and while the cops hanging out looked to be keeping things from exploding into a riot, they didn’t seem to be doing much to stop the protesters, either.

“Whoa,” said Stacey.  “I didn’t even think about this happening.”

“Me neither,” said Donita.  “Who’d waste their time protesting a movie about a giant dick?”

Stacey grunted in agreement.  “No shit.”  He chuckled.  “Hey, this reminds me of when we went to go see The Last Temptation of Christ back in the 80’s just to see what all the fuss was about.  Remember all those religious fucks that were trying to stop everybody from seeing it because it offended God or some such shit?”

The gypsy groaned.  “They should’ve been trying to stop everybody from seeing it because that movie ate shit!  I figured anything with that many protesters out in front of it had to be interesting!”

“Had that theory shot down pretty quick, didn’t you?”

“Yes, ugh.”

“But we know the Penisaurus is gonna deliver.  We saw the clips!”

“Well, I guess we’re just going to have to get in there, aren’t we?”

“Damned right.”

Donita turned to Dorian, removed Stephen from her shoulder, and handed the squirming, protesting rat to the blond vampire.  “Keep an eye on him, just in case a riot breaks out.  I don’t want anybody stepping on my baby,” said the gypsy, and Stephen squeaked in supreme irritation, clearly raring for a fight.  Clucking her tongue, the half-vampire tapped the big rat on the head with her index finger and shook her head.  “Mommy says no, Stephen.  You have to stay with your Uncle Dorian while me and your Uncle Retard go and take care of things so we can go see that awful Penisaurus movie.”

“If there’s even a Filmatorium left afterwards,” muttered the blond vampire, and Donita chuckled.

“Don’t be so glum, chum!  We’ll be watching the Penisaurus wreck America before you know it,” she said.  After giving Stephen a kiss on his snout and tightening up her purple bandanna, she hurried off with Stacey, heading towards the crowd of protesters several hundred feet away.

“If things get ugly, we’re getting the hell out of here and going to go hide out at a burger joint for a few hours, Rat-boy,” said Dorian, holding onto Stephen tightly enough to keep him in place.

The rat squeaked in annoyance, irked at what he perceived to be a lack of courage on the vampire’s part.  But Stephen, who’d only been part of the gang for several months now, hadn’t yet had sufficient familiarity with Stacey and Donita to understand Dorian’s consternation.  The blond vampire knew from long experience that the only thing worse than Stacey and Donita at odds was the two of them united against a common foe.  More often than not, terrible things happened.

“So what are we gonna do?” asked Donita as she and Stacey marched determinedly towards the protesters.  “Just wade into the middle of them and start swinging?”

Stacy gave her a derisive look.  “What are we, savages?”

The gypsy blinked.  “Well … yeah.  Most of the time, at least.”

The slim vampire snorted.  “For your information, we’re going to try to reason with these assholes first, and if they don’t stand aside and let us in, then we’re going to start swinging.”

“Reason with them?  Since when has that been your M.O.?  You getting soft on me?”

“Shit, no.  I just like a good argument, and decent-thinking people are great to argue with.”

“No they’re not!  It’s always completely pointless!”

“Exactly.”

“Oh.”

“Hey, you fucks!” Stacey screamed at the crowd of protesters.  “We came here to see the giant dick!  Whaddaya think of that!?  FREE THE PENISAURUS!  FREE THE PENISAURUS!”

Taking her cue, Donita began to chant “FREE THE PENISAURUS!” along with Stacey, and with a little help from her magick, their voices were as loud as bullhorns, thundering through the air as they approached the crowd.

Protesters rapidly began to take notice and turned around to face the two vampires as they drew closer.  The disgruntled moviegoers hanging around the area took notice as well, and they joined in the chant as well, adding their voices to the cacophony, and soon the cry of “FREE THE PENISAURUS!” echoed off the walls of the nearby buildings, filling the warm night air with defiant indignation.  Or something to that effect.

Mr. Rodriguez, the owner and operator of the Filmatorium, peered out of the box office window, unable to see exactly what was going on due to the human wall of protesters blocking the front of the theatre, but he could hear the Penisaurus chants well enough, and his heart swelled with hope.  When the protesters had shown up nearly two hours ago, he’d barricaded himself in the box office, refusing to leave his post, because he had a movie to show and money to make, dammit.

As show time had approached and the protesters continued to grow in number, he’d despaired of being able to run the film tonight, and possibly any night, especially since the cops weren’t doing squat about the protesters.  He suspected that had something to do with his showing of the indie-punk-slasher-zombie film Millions of Dead Cops a few months back, which was complete bullshit, if you asked him.  He didn’t make the movies, he just showed ‘em!  He’d made enough off of Millions of Dead Cops to easily cover the rest of the year’s expenses, and if the local constables didn’t like it, they should just deal with it.  Fucking pricks, whose fault was it that most non-high-society people in L.A. hated cops, anyway?  But despite all that, maybe this would work out after all …

Stacey marched up to the nearest protester, who was shouting something at him, and let fly with a loud, shrill scream that went on for so long it seemed like it lasted forever.  The horrible scream cut through the air like a razor, getting into everybody’s ears and on everybody’s nerves, and by the time Stacey stopped, almost everyone had instinctively quieted down.

Satisfied that he had the floor, Stacey pointed at the crowd and shouted, “Motherfuckers!  If you’re not here to see the Penisaurus, get outta here!”

“We’re not going to let this theatre get away with showing this filth!” shouted a well-to-do housewife that looked like she hadn’t had a good time since the Reagan administration.  “What if children see this?!”

“It’s un-American!” shouted a middle-aged man waving a sign that echoed his words.  “It makes a mockery of the 9/11 tragedy by its depiction of the Twin Towers!”

“We have to make our stand somewhere!” added a tall, stern-looking man who was striding in Stacey’s direction.  “Movies like this are just one more step in the destruction of family values and morals in our Christian society!  The American people will not stand for this obscenity!”

Stacey and Donita looked at one another and rolled their eyes.

“The times and subject matter change, but the arguments are always the same,” said the gypsy.  “You’d think they’d come up with something original.”

“These aren’t exactly the folk to come up with original thinking.  That sort of thing is our department, gyppo,” replied Stacey, cracking his knuckles and grinning.  He raised his voice and said, “You fuckers wanna know what’s really obscene?”

“That!” screamed the stern-looking man, who pointed at the marquee of the Filmatorium, which read, “Vengeance!  Super Lifeform Penisaurus, Go! Showing Tonight!  Phallic Mayhem Galore!”

“Not at all, m’man,” replied the vampire cool.  “What’s really obscene is the fact that here, in this very city, hundreds of innocent children are being abused, starved, and killed in both the projects and the ritzy neighborhoods, and instead of helping them out, you fucks are here protesting a Japanese movie about a giant dick!”

“We’re doing this for the children!” snarled the stern-looking man, and he was backed up by the shouts of the other protesters.

“Children, schmildren!” scoffed Donita.  “I think the kids in the projects would be happier having a safe place to sleep at night instead of a world free of naughty things!  You’re not doing this for the kids, none of your kind ever does!  You do this shit in the name of the children because you think that gives you a reason beyond reproach, and all the while it’s really because you’re too namby-pamby to accept the fact that not everybody likes G-rated crap!  You’re doing this for yourselves, your own guilty consciences, and your overly-sanitized worldviews, not for the kids, so come clean!”

“Yeah, exactly,” said Stacey, “It’s the fuckers that protest this stuff that get off on it the most!  You’re all locked into your good and clean view of the world, and when you see something filthy and nasty, you get all excited about it, which you can’t do, because it’s contrary to your sterile lifestyle, oh no!  So you protest, burn, and or study it so that you can be close to the action and get your dirty little glances in, all the while secure in your purity, since you’re acting against the bad things!”  The vampire pointed at the housewife and sneered, “I bet you wish your hubby had a dick like the Penisaurus, don’t you, sister?”

 The woman gasped and turned four different shades of red before growling, “I’m divorced, if you must know!”

Stacey guffawed.  “Ah hell, that doesn’t come as a surprise at all.  Well, if you’d ever like to make acquaintance with me and Horsey,” he said with a smirk, “Just gimme a call.  We’ll be happy to make a woman outta ya.  Or if you’d like a trip on the other side of the fence, you can go with the gyppo.  She’s into girls, after all.”

Donita leered at the woman as she rubbed her hands together.  “Oh yes!  And it’s always you good, uptight girls that are into the nastiest, most horrible stuff!  I bet you’d howl like a fire engine when I got down on you, baby!  I once had a nun that—“

“Enough!” shouted the stern man, who shook his fist at the vampires as the offended housewife dropped her sign and ran away screaming when Donita made an especially crude gesture towards her.  “This is exactly the kind of thing that happens when this filth is allowed to exist in our society!  Sick, twisted individuals like yourselves are the by-products of a corrupt, immoral civilization, and we’re going to put a stop to it!”

“Can’t do it, fucker,” said Stacey with glee.  “The genie’s out of the bottle, and for every victory your kind makes, there’s twice as much horrible shit going on behind the curtain because you’re not dealing with the real problems of society.  Movies and music don’t fuck people up, people fuck people up, and sometimes, people just fuck themselves up for no good reason and there’s nothing anybody can do about it.  This messed-up shit we love to watch and listen to is the by-product of a sick society, and it’s here because of assholes like you.  The more you try to repress us, the more fucked up we’re going to get to defy you, and while you’re busy looking at us, the really bad shit’s festering under the surface, waiting to walk the streets in the next generation, where the ante will be upped again.  It’s survival of the sickest, motherfucker, and you can’t stop it.  People like me and her are gonna keep right on chewing away until you’re one of us, and there’s nothing you can do about it except prepare yourself and your kids for it.”

“Impossible!” retorted the stern man, shaking his head.  “Not when we unite and stand firm against the world’s filth!”

Donita laughed and looked at Stacey.  “So you wanna tell ‘em, or should I?”

“Oh, you go and do it, I’ll let you have some fun, too,” replied the slim vampire.

The gypsy cleared her throat and spoke loudly and authoritatively, as if she were a scholar addressing a crowd of students.  “Once upon a time there was a man named Elvis, and he was deemed so obscene that he could only be shown on TV from the waist up.  He was deemed evil and degenerate because he brought raucous ‘nigger’ music to good clean white folks and encouraged kids to fuck themselves silly with his lyrics, or so it was said.  Elvis was considered to be such a threat to the moral fiber of America that he got sent into the military to be taken out of circulation for two whole years before he could do too much damage.  But it was too late.

“Once Pandora’s Box has been opened, it can’t ever be shut again, and the evil of Mr. Presley spread far and wide, helping create such monsters as the Beatles and the Rolling Stones, who went on to create their own twisted offspring, and the process continues to this day.  Elvis got his claws into American society so deeply and so effectively that nowadays he seems tame and ordinary, and he’s beloved by millions, from churchgoers to rednecks to politicians … who were just a few of his opponents back in the day.  Elvis won, despite the efforts of decent people, and his legacy continues to this day.

“The FCC can spend oodles of dollars investigating Vince Neil saying ‘Happy Fucking New Year’ on the Tonight Show or Janet Jackson showing her titty during the Superbowl, but in a generation’s time, people are going to be saying and doing a lot worse than that on network TV, and nobody’s gonna think anything of it.  You can’t fight this.  Go home and help some people that really need it instead of protesting raunchy movies and dirty music, because this is a battle that can’t be won.  History’ll back me up on that,” said Donita, folding her arms over her chest and smiling pleasantly at the protesters.  “And if you can’t accept that, do everybody a favor and kill yourselves.”

“Yeah,” added Stacey, “Elvis fucking rocks, dudes!”

The stern man shook his head in disgust while the crowd grumbled and growled amongst itself, not sure what to do now.  A number of them were Elvis-lovers and they found the irony of the gypsy’s argument to be extremely bothersome and even a bit disturbing.  “That’s a completely different matter,” snapped the stern man.  “This is blatant filth!”

“So was Elvis,” said Donita with a yawn.

“So were the Beatles,” added Stacey.

“Oscar Wilde.”

“Midnight Cowboy.”

“Interracial marriage.”

“Ooo, good one!  Playboy.”

“Always classy.  Catcher in the Rye.”

“Can’t stop it.  Even if you slow it down, the next generation will just exonerate it.  Trust me, I’ve seen it happen,” said Stacey smugly.  “The sick will prevail, and you guys are fucked.”

“Look at you!  You don’t even realize how corrupted you’ve become!  You can’t even put together a sentence without throwing in an obscenity!” shouted a younger woman.  “You’re pathetic!”

“George Washington and his crew fucking fought and died to win the people of this country the right to say, do, worship, and feel whatever the hell we want without fear of government reprisals, and I honor those hardass motherfuckers’ sacrifices by being who I am and not fucking with anybody else’s right to a good time!” roared the black-haired vampire, giving everybody the finger.  “The beauty of this country is that a dirty-minded motherfucker like me can coexist with tight-assed cunts like you guys, and neither of us can get locked up for our beliefs or expressions!  You stupid assholes, people have been aching and searching for a nation like this for centuries, for millennia, where they can simply express themselves and be who they are, and you jackoffs have just had it handed to you, and you gotta try and ruin it for everybody who doesn’t see things like you do!  Fuck you!  I don’t give a shit if you don’t like the Penisaurus, because if you don’t like it, you can go home!  I don’t screw with you guys when you’re going to church, so don’t screw with me when I’m having my fun!”

Stacey yanked his leather jacket off and threw it on the street, then put up his fists, ready for a fight.  “Come on!  You wanna take my right to filth away from me?  Come and take it!  I’ll beat your asses now and then let the next generation laugh at you!”

Everybody, including Donita, stared at him, at a loss for words.  Some were disgusted, others were shocked, others were pissed, and some were even impressed.

After a few moments, the gypsy said, “Holy shit, I think you actually made me wet.”

Despite his battle-readiness, Stacey grinned over at her.  “You want me.”

The half-vampire scowled.  “Eat a dick.  It’s your ideas that got me, not the nasty carcass they’re wrapped up in.”

“Oh, come on and face it, gyppo, your passion for me is—wait a sec,” said Stacey, turning to take a good, long look at the stern man, who was glaring at him in trembling indignation.  “That’s it!  I thought I knew you from somewhere!” he exclaimed, pointing at the man.

“I assure you, young man, you don’t know me, not at all,” hissed the stern man.  “I don’t keep company with the likes of you.”

“How the hell do you know him?” asked Donita, looking skeptical.  “The only people you ever hang out with are strippers, hookers, lunatics, rockers, and midgets.”

Stacey snickered.  “I don’t know him from hanging out with him, I know him from TV.  He’s got a local-access cable show called Father Murphy’s Family Concerns, and I saw him awhile back, when I was waiting for Sex Puppets to come on, and he was going on and on about how great this one really fucked-up, sick-ass movie was.  I couldn’t believe what I was seeing, quite honestly.”

“What movie was that?”

“The Jesus Chainsaw Massacre,” replied Stacey.

“What?!”

“I discussed no such movie on my program!” growled Father Murphy.  “I only endorse wholesome, family entertainment!”

“Yeah, well, you were promoting the shit out of that Passion of the Christ movie, which may as well have been called The Jesus Chainsaw Massacre, with all the hacking and slashing that was going on.  That was just messed-up, dude,” said the vampire, shaking his head at the enraged reverend.

“It was a powerful, spiritual movie about the suffering and love of the savior!” snapped Father Murphy.

Stacey raised his eyebrows.  “It was a snuff film, dude.  Even I don’t get into that shit.  Just ‘cuz there are religious themes slapped onto it doesn’t change the fact that it’s a snuff film!”

“Man, that was a hella ugly movie!” Donita said, sticking her tongue out.  “That was more gruesome than all the Friday The 13^th and Nightmare on Elm Street movies put together, and we didn’t even get Freddy Krueger popping in to inject a little levity into the situation.  That was just a mean, depressing film.  It wasn’t even historically accurate!”

“It was exhaustively researched, and was as accurate as it could be!” protested Father Murphy.

“The hell it was.  They totally ignored the fact that Jesus was black!”

The roar of fury that erupted from the crowd was so powerful that the two vampires were almost knocked backwards, and Donita cackled.  “That always gets ‘em!”

Stacey looked at how enraged the crowd had become, then looked at Donita, clearly impressed.  “How’d you know that?”

“I’ve spent a lot of time hanging around in the south, and one thing I found out about most ‘decent’ religious types, especially white folk, is that you can get all of their hateful tendencies to rush up to the surface if you attack their religion in just the right way,” said the gypsy with a grin.  “As long as you say their messiah is as lily-white as them, they’re cool with it, but as soon as you say he’s black, Hispanic, or whatever, they get pissed.  The same thing works with Santa Claus, too, curiously enough.”

“Not bad.”

The crowd, which was largely composed of religious people organized by Father Murphy, was absolutely seething at the two vampires now, with the exception of the black members, who were looking rather annoyed at the reaction of the white members.  After a few moments, they threw down their signs and stomped off, in search of a less hypocritical bunch to hang out with.  So much for equality among the righteous.  The non-religious members of the crowd were also looking a bit upset at how easily their religious counterparts had been baited, and they quickly followed the departing black members, deciding they had better protest groups to join.

“How dare you mock our Lord!” thundered Father Murphy, pointing a shaking finger at the two vampires.  “How dare you question Him!”

“I’m not mocking him, boss, I’m just saying that the guy was black!” said Donita.  “It’s the 21^st century, so it’s okay to be black, you know.  What’s wrong with that?”

“It’s inaccurate!  It’s just yet another example of how the loose morals of society are corroding our traditions and truths!” Murphy snarled.

“He was gay, too, I heard,” added Stacey, and the reverend nearly had a seizure, he was so furious.  The crowd of protesters were looking less and less like concerned citizens and more like an angry lynch mob by the second, so the gypsy half-vampire decided to throw more fuel onto the fire.

“That’s true!  How do you think he avoided sleeping with women and fucking around with Mary Magdalene and all that stuff?  He stayed pure because he wasn’t interested in chicks!” chirped Donita, waggling her eyebrows.

The crowd started to slowly move towards the two vampires, Father Murphy screaming so wildly that spittle was flying out of his mouth, and Stacey glanced over at Donita and said, “Man, we need some fanatical Muslims backing us up right now or something.  This is getting ugly.”

“What, are you scared?” mocked Donita, who looked absolutely thrilled at the turn of events.

“Shit no.  I just wanna see two religious groups hack into each other.  That’s always rockin’.  Check this out; I heard this joke from a rabbi,” said Stacey.  He raised his voice and called out, “Hey, I hear that Mel Gibson’s making a sequel to The Passion of the Christ!  Guess what it’s called?  How The Jews Stole Easter!  Choke on that, you uppity, tight-assed, snuff-film-loving motherfuckers!”

“You all can eat the corn out of my shit!” added the gypsy for good effect.

            When the crowd rushed forward, screaming for blood, Stacey and Donita were ready for it, and they turned and ran directly towards the police cars, with Father Murphy’s posse directly behind them.  The cops, who’d been looking irritated that they might have to do something about the crowd since the two antagonists had arrived, looked in horror at the human tidal wave galloping towards them, and while several of them called for backup, the others got their night-sticks and pepper-spray ready.

            Laughing like kids on a playground, Stacey and Donita ran right into the midst of the cops, neatly sliding over the hoods of the police cars as they made their getaway.  They poured on the speed once they were clear, looking back to watch the protesters slam into the police, thus sparking a brief and violent conflict that was going to forever ruin the credibility of Father Murphy and everybody that followed him.

            The two vampires hurried down an alley, climbed up the side of a building, and then doubled back on the rooftops to watch the battle between Father Murphy’s bunch and the police, and they high-fived each other on the rooftop of a record store as the chaos unfolded below them.

“Score one for us and the Penisaurus!” crowed Stacey.

“Hell yeah!  Did you see how I got ‘em to come after us like that?  I totally had ‘em!” exclaimed Donita, grinning broadly.

Stacey stopped and frowned.  “You?  I was the one that got ‘em all agitated!  You just added in a few things here and there!  This was my show, gyppo!”

“Bullshit!” retorted the gypsy.  “I told ‘em all about Elvis and kept tweaking those idiots in between all of your endless jabbering!”

“I lost my jacket down there, you bitch!  I was ready to throw down with ‘em, and when they saw I was willing to go a few rounds with ‘em, that’s what really got ‘em mad!”

“You were talking so much they weren’t even paying attention to you!  I was the one pissing ‘em off!  I made that one little cunt run off screaming!”

“The only cunt here is you, you glory-hogging dog-fucker!”

“At least I don’t spend my weekends hanging out at Michael Jackson’s ranch!”

“I snuck in there one time to go on the carnival rides when he was out of the country!  I didn’t get molested and you know it, you lying gash!”

“So what do you call it when there’s a forty-something year-old wiener between two two-thousand year-old buns?  Stacey and Michael, that’s what!”

“I’ll fucking kill you!”

“I’ll fucking kill you!”

Now that their foe had fallen, the two former allies once again resumed their usual activities, and as they beat the living shit out of each other on the rooftop, the LAPD beat the living shit out of the hostile protesters on the street below.

Everybody had been so focused on the brewing conflict between the Penisaurus’ defenders and its detractors that nobody noticed that Dorian had rounded up all of the disgruntled moviegoers and helped them slip into the Filmatorium via the back entrance.  Once inside, the blond vampire had quietly alerted Mr. Rodriguez that he had a full house waiting to see the movie and had given him all of the admission money collected at the back entrance, and as Stacey and Donita antagonized the protesters, everybody within the theatre sat back and happily watched the Penisaurus movie.  Except for Stephen, who was so delighted his Uncle Dorian had bought him an entire bucket of popcorn that he paid absolutely no attention to the movie, and ate himself into a contented slumber within the popcorn bucket.

Stacey and Donita, the fearless champions of free speech and obscenity, had to wait for the encore showing later on that evening, but they did get free admission at the Filmatorium for life, so all was well.

At least until the sequel came out.