abilities.”
“More extensive?”
“I figure one of your little toes should work. I’d ask for a finger, but I know you do a lot of typing.”
I held up my hands and started backing away. “Whoa there, Hoss!”
“Oh, don’t be such a baby. It should grow back before you even leave here today. Didn’t you say that other vampire’s entire hand grew back?”
“Sally.”
“Whatever. It’s not like I’m asking to cut off your dick. It’s just a little toe. Evolution-wise, they’re not even necessary anymore.”
“I don’t care. I’m not letting you prune my digits, no matter much unnecessary they are.”
“Pity. I was planning on dropping a vorpal weapon into the game. Doesn’t Kelvin use a saber?” he asked, referring to my character.
“Not gonna work,” I replied.
That lasted all of two seconds before I blurted out, “What kind of plusses are we talking about?” Damn my weakness for treasure.
“Four at the least.”
“I don’t know...”
“Oh, and did I mention that the lovely Princess Sheila was looking for a royal concubine? You did save her from those giants after all.”
“That’s low, dude.”
“I’m not above bribery. So about that shoe...”
“No. No fucking way. Not going to happen. I don’t care if you throw in the armor of the elder gods too. There is absolutely nothing you can say to convince me.”
* * *
Ten minutes later, there was a knock on Dave’s door. It was the cops. Guess his neighbors got a little freaked out by all the screaming. What a surprise. It’s amazing just how many nerve endings are contained in one little toe.
Diplomatic Immunity
Outside of a citation for disturbing the peace, the rest of the game was fun...especially my ill-gotten gains. I could tell the rest of the party were miffed that I seemed to be the golden boy this week, but oh, well. I didn’t see them offering up any digits in the name of science.
Dave was correct too. By the time I got home and took off my shoe (stuffed full of blood-soaked bandages), my foot was whole again. One wouldn’t have known that just a few hours earlier, in a fit of apparent insanity, I had voluntarily let my so-called friend dismember me. Why did I have a feeling all of this was going to come back and bite me in the ass? Oh, well, I’m sure that’s a horror to contend with for another day.
Little did I know that other horrors were even now awaiting me...and it was just the first day of the goddamn week.
* * *
I was sitting on our living room couch, still marveling at the fact that I had ten toes again, when our front door opened. Tom walked in, but before I could voice a greeting, his girlfriend, Christy, entered in tow. Wonderful. Just how I like to end my weekend - in the company of my would-be killer.
I started humming the refrain from Rob Zombie’s Dragula , specifically the part about burning through the witches. I found myself doing that a lot lately while in Christy’s presence. For some reason it was soothing. Go figure.
Tom took her coat and put it in the closest. Great, that meant she would be staying for a while. I was just getting ready to stand, intent on retreating to the relative safety of my bedroom, when Christy walked over and sat down next to me. That was surprising. She and I had a bit of an unspoken rule about not being in the same room together for extended periods of time.
Thus, I was caught even more off guard when she said, “Hey, Bill. How’s it going?”
I did nothing but blink for a few seconds, most likely looking like a moron. Christy and I had said maybe ten words to each other in the past few months and most of them were inarticulate grunts of begrudging acknowledgement.
I opened my mouth, not really sure what would come out...although expecting something like, “Hey, yourself. Eaten either Hansel or Gretel lately?”
Before I
“More extensive?”
“I figure one of your little toes should work. I’d ask for a finger, but I know you do a lot of typing.”
I held up my hands and started backing away. “Whoa there, Hoss!”
“Oh, don’t be such a baby. It should grow back before you even leave here today. Didn’t you say that other vampire’s entire hand grew back?”
“Sally.”
“Whatever. It’s not like I’m asking to cut off your dick. It’s just a little toe. Evolution-wise, they’re not even necessary anymore.”
“I don’t care. I’m not letting you prune my digits, no matter much unnecessary they are.”
“Pity. I was planning on dropping a vorpal weapon into the game. Doesn’t Kelvin use a saber?” he asked, referring to my character.
“Not gonna work,” I replied.
That lasted all of two seconds before I blurted out, “What kind of plusses are we talking about?” Damn my weakness for treasure.
“Four at the least.”
“I don’t know...”
“Oh, and did I mention that the lovely Princess Sheila was looking for a royal concubine? You did save her from those giants after all.”
“That’s low, dude.”
“I’m not above bribery. So about that shoe...”
“No. No fucking way. Not going to happen. I don’t care if you throw in the armor of the elder gods too. There is absolutely nothing you can say to convince me.”
* * *
Ten minutes later, there was a knock on Dave’s door. It was the cops. Guess his neighbors got a little freaked out by all the screaming. What a surprise. It’s amazing just how many nerve endings are contained in one little toe.
Diplomatic Immunity
Outside of a citation for disturbing the peace, the rest of the game was fun...especially my ill-gotten gains. I could tell the rest of the party were miffed that I seemed to be the golden boy this week, but oh, well. I didn’t see them offering up any digits in the name of science.
Dave was correct too. By the time I got home and took off my shoe (stuffed full of blood-soaked bandages), my foot was whole again. One wouldn’t have known that just a few hours earlier, in a fit of apparent insanity, I had voluntarily let my so-called friend dismember me. Why did I have a feeling all of this was going to come back and bite me in the ass? Oh, well, I’m sure that’s a horror to contend with for another day.
Little did I know that other horrors were even now awaiting me...and it was just the first day of the goddamn week.
* * *
I was sitting on our living room couch, still marveling at the fact that I had ten toes again, when our front door opened. Tom walked in, but before I could voice a greeting, his girlfriend, Christy, entered in tow. Wonderful. Just how I like to end my weekend - in the company of my would-be killer.
I started humming the refrain from Rob Zombie’s Dragula , specifically the part about burning through the witches. I found myself doing that a lot lately while in Christy’s presence. For some reason it was soothing. Go figure.
Tom took her coat and put it in the closest. Great, that meant she would be staying for a while. I was just getting ready to stand, intent on retreating to the relative safety of my bedroom, when Christy walked over and sat down next to me. That was surprising. She and I had a bit of an unspoken rule about not being in the same room together for extended periods of time.
Thus, I was caught even more off guard when she said, “Hey, Bill. How’s it going?”
I did nothing but blink for a few seconds, most likely looking like a moron. Christy and I had said maybe ten words to each other in the past few months and most of them were inarticulate grunts of begrudging acknowledgement.
I opened my mouth, not really sure what would come out...although expecting something like, “Hey, yourself. Eaten either Hansel or Gretel lately?”
Before I
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