“The Defense calls Vampirella.”
In a flash, the seductive vampire appeared at the witness stand.
“What the--?” She looked around the court confused. She quickly figured out where she was when she saw Death at the bench, then Hudson and I at our table. “Oh, hi Jon. Hi Hudson.”
Hudson and I smiled and waved hello. Vampirella’s own smile faded as she looked over and saw the Devil at his desk.
“What are you doing here?” she yelled at him.
“You!” the demon yelled back. “I’ve had enough of you and your meddling, woman! Stay out of my affairs! Hoo ahhhh!”
“Your honor,” Vampirella looked at Death. “I refuse to answer any of his questions on account of he is the supreme lord of evil and a jerk!”
“Your honor,” Satan countered. “Prosecution wishes to classify Vampirella as a hostile witness.”
“Oh you have yet to see hostile! I’ll bathe in your blood, creep!”
“See what I mean, your honor,” the demon indicated towards the vampire. “She’s hostile! Jeez, a guy stands her up on one date a couple hundred years ago and he’ll never hear the end of it!”
Vampirella squinted at Satan coldly. “Don’t... you... even.”
“Order! Order!” Death banged her gavel. “Vampirella, just answer the questions then you will be on your way.”
“Fine,” Vampirella harrumphed.
“Vampirella,” I stepped forward. “You recently went on a mission with Private Hudson here, correct?”
“This is true,” she answered.
“And at any point, did you show Hudson your underwear?”
“Nope,” she shook her head. “Wait a minute. Did you sell your soul to see me in my underwear?”
“Yes’m,” Hudson hung his head.
“Well, that was foolish, I don’t wear underwear,” she stated. “This outfit that you see me in was made by the weavers on Drakulon. It is enchanted, so when I transform into my other forms, it doesn’t get ruined like an ordinary set of clothes would.”
“So in addition to the fact that Hudson would have the opportunity to see you only in this outfit,” I continued. “There would be absolutely no chance of him seeing you in anything that would resemble undergarments?”
“That is correct, Jon,” she answered. “What you see is what I wear.”
“And I have to say you look stunning in it,” Death added. “I could never pull something like that off.”
“Are you kidding?” Vampirella turned to the personification of mortality. “You would look great in something like this.”
“You really think so?” Death asked.
“Of course,” Vampirella replied. “And your wings look so good. You are a sharp looking entity.”
“Thank you,” Death was flattered. “You and I need to take a vacation sometime, girlfriend. To Pompeii or the Bikini Atoll, maybe.”
“That would be nice,” the vampiress smiled.
“Ladies! Ladies!” Satan interrupted. “It’s nice that you two are bonding and while I’d lo-ove to see the vacation photos, we are in the middle of a trial here!”
“Fine,” Death sighed. “Jon do you have any further questions for Vampirella?”
“Not underwear?” I asked the daughter of Lilith.
“Nope,” she replied.
“Don’t wear underwear?”
“Don’t wear underwear,” she affirmed.
“No further questions,” I said to Death.
“Your witness,” Death looked at Satan.
“Vampirella, is it true that you are the hell spawned daughter of the damned?” Satan posed.
Vampirella gasped. “Why you!”
“Is it true that you were born in hell, fathered by a demon, and sent to Earth to destroy vampires?” Satan pushed. “Is it true that you bear a grudge against all demons?”
“I don’t have to answer that!” Vampirella yelled back at him.
“Is it true that you’ve held an even stronger grudge against me, in particular, because I missed our previously mentioned date so long ago?”
“We did not have a date!” the vampire bared her fangs angrily.
“Really?” Satan’s lip curled into a smile. “Salem, 1692, does that ring a bell?”
“Objection, your honor,” I stood up. “He’s badgering the witness.”
“I am just trying to establish that the witness is clearly antagonistic towards me,” Satan replied. “She’s not going to answer my questions fairly, not with her partiality towards these mortals!”
“Do you have any questions for the witness in regards to this case?” Death asked.
“None, your honor,” Satan made a dismissive wave towards the witness stand.
Using her thumb and pinky, Vampirella made the international hand signal for a telephone. Mouthing “Call me” to Death, she shook her faux phone near her ear before disappearing in a puff of smoke.
“Any more witnesses?” Death asked, failing to conceal her growing exasperation with the proceedings.
“Yes, your honor,” Satan announced. “I call on the father of psychoanalysis, Dr. Sigmond Freud! Hoooo ahhhh!”
Friday, November 24, 2006
“The Defense calls Vampirella.”