plastic fangs

plastic fangs

This is a real Journal entry from Jack Albert and was not changed in any way to make it cooler, funnier, or stupider. Oh, we may have added the word bloody' a couple more times than necessary to add effect and make it funny.

October 3, 1999:

For as long as I can remember, journal, I have been pretty normal. I eat, sleep, and take baths regularly. But one day all this changed, and now I am totally different.

It all started on my thirtieth birthday. I woke up, got out of bed and put my robe on. My attire was a little strange, I do recall, since I did have on superman pajamas. I walked down to the kitchen of my small, one bedroom apartment and took out my Cap'n Crunch cereal.

"Sweet, a maze!" I exclaimed as I noticed the Pokémon maze on the back of the box. I took out a bowl from the pantry and poured the cereal into it. Then I got out the milk and poured some of that in the bowl. My aim was terrible so I accidentally poured some milk on the floor. I used some strong profanity as I got some paper towels and placed them nicely over the spill. I would deal with it later.

I sat down at the table and ate my breakfast. After I had finished eating and got to the finish line on the maze, I went to the bathroom to freshen up. I walked over to the mirror and what I saw terrified me in the most horrific way.

I saw myself.

I had the worst hairday in the history of bad hairdays. I couldn't go out like this! I would be egged by gangsters and kicked by little kids! I would scare the bloody socks off women of all ages! Something had to be done.

Luckily, something did happen. As I looked at myself in the mirror, I noticed that I was a lot more transparent then I had been yesterday. I looked closer. My reflection was disappearing! I quickly looked at myself. I was fine--not a transparent bone in my body--but my reflection was almost gone! At that moment, a thought came into my head in which I expressed immediately to myself.

"I'm bloody invisible!"

It sounded logical at the time, but now that I think about it, it was a pretty stupid thing to say. So, thinking I was invisible, I ran to my front–and only–door and ran down five flights of stairs to the parking lot. I ran started running around thinking that no one would see me.

Since, I though, I am invisible, I should make the most of it!

"Hey, look at me! I'm invisible! Oh, wait, you can't look at me because you can't see me! Ha ha ha!!!

"Sir," yelled some one from the apartment, "will you shut up?!"

"No!" I yelled back. "You can't see me!!!"

"Yes, I see you very bloody well, now shut the hell up!"

"What?! You can see me?"

"Of course I can!"

It hit me. I wasn't invisible to them, just myself.

"Oh," I said apologetically, "sorry!"

I walked back into my apartment.

"So I'm only invisible to myself when I'm looking in the mirror," I said as I returned to my apartment and sat in my La-Z-Boy, "Bummer."

Then another thought came to me.

"Maybe I'm a vampire,"

Yeah, I saw Count Dracula: Dead and Loving It a while ago and the symptoms match–except I don't like drinking blood.

Just then, I had the strangest urge to. . . . drink blood?

Yes, that was it, I wanted blood. Red, delicious blood. Anyone's would do, I just needed blood!

"Oh my God, I am a vampire!" Then I paused and said, "Wait, where's my fangs?"

I knew at that moment that I must go buy some of those funny-looking plastic fangs at a Halloween store and go join the vampire community.

The first thing on my list was fairly easy to accomplish. I went to a novelty shop and found the perfect size of white, plastic fangs and placed them on my teeth. I knew this just wouldn't do, so I went back home and stole some Elmer glue from a little kid in the park and glued my new fangs to my old teeth. It was a great fit. In no time I would be running around London, with my new fangs, biting people till the sun came up.

Now, where could this vampire community be? I looked in every alley, back street, and drugie neighborhood I knew of, but nothing was to be found. It was getting really dark and I though I was out of luck when all of a sudden, this guy in all black ran up to a man and bit him in the neck. Yessss! He had to be a vampire–or a psychopath with a sweet tooth for blood–so I followed him to his lair. It was located in the abandoned warehouse about five blocks from my apartment and was quite nice once you got to know it.

I almost was sure he didn't know I was following him until he turned around, showed his fangs, and told me to beat it.

"Beat it, kid, this is no place for your kind!"

"My kind? I'm a vampire just like you."

"What?!"

"You heard me." I said, trying to act tough.

"Since when does the vampire dress code allow Superman pajamas?"

I never changed from my PJs after I found out I was a vampire. I needed a cover-up, but what? I had it! With ease I said, "I'm in disguise."

"Oh. Well, come on in."

"Ok."

I followed him to an elevator. We proceeded in and he pushed a button with the letter "V" on it. I figured V was for vampire. When the elevator stopped, the door opened and what I saw was really really cool!

I saw something that you could say was a bar but it had vampires in it and they only served blood.

"Cool," I said.

"Isn't it?" The man said.

"What's your name, anyhow?" I asked.

"There are some who call me. . . . Tim."

"Hey, Tim, mine is Jack."

"Lets sit down, take a load off." Said Tim.

"Ok,"

We went to a table at the bar. The bartender had blood all over his shirt.

"Can I help you?" He said.

"Yeah," Said Tim. "I'll have a Mary."

"And you?" The bar tender sounded disturbed.

"Umm, I'll just have. . . . . yes, a Bill Gates sounds good."

"Ok..."

"He turned around and filled our mugs with blood from two tubes labeled "Mary" and "Gates".

"Here you go."

He slid them over.

"Thanks," I said.

As we drank down our liquids–they were exceptionally good–we discussed our lives and whatnot. At that bar I learned some great tips on vampiring and I was ever so pleased. Tim said he learned he was a vampire when he was about fourteen. I was extremely interested because, well, I had learned I was at the age of, well, thirty–you know that–and I wanted to know why I was so late. So I asked him:

"Why was I such a late becomer?"

"Well," he seemed like he knew exactly why, "I really don't know."

What a rip off.

"Well, I better get going." I said, trying to politely leave this satanic surrounding. "You know, to do vampire stuff."

"Ok, sure, you betcha." Tim said like he was from Fargo, Minnesota or something. Then he added, "Just let me get you into vampire gear."

"O. . .k. . . ." I didn't like the sound of that.

"Follow me."

He lead me to a dark and medieval-like room with weapons of mass destruction, apparel that would make Martha Stuart scream, and little pine tree air fresheners that taxi cabs have. Then I said what had been on my mind for the last five seconds:

"Wow."

"Well, what are you waiting for? Suit up."

Ok, the phrase "suit up" was not exactly foreign to me, but, under the circumstances I was totally blanked out.

"Ok," I said and I walked over to a suit. It was black, leather, and cool looking. "This one." I said and the suit magically slapped itself onto me and shrunk to fit my size. "Wow." I said and picked out some leather boots, a pair of sunglasses, and an air freshener.

"You look great!" Said Tim.

"Thanks."

"Lets go."

We walked back into the bar. Everyone got quiet.

"Hey," sounded a voice in the crowd, "what's he doin' in our suits?"

"He's a vampire just like you!" Said Tim.

"Yeah right! Kill him!"

"Yeah, kill him!!!" Said all.

"Let's get outta here!" I said, frantically.

We were surrounded. Cornered by all. They were all around us. Time to take action.

"Say back!" I said. "Or I'll. . . or I'll. . . use this!" I took out my air freshener and showed it for all to see.

"What can a bloody air freshener do?" Said one.

"Yeah, kill him!" Said another.

"This." I said as I threw the air freshener at the nearest vampire. It him in the eye and he immediately went blind. He began sceaming like a manic.

"Watch out! He's got an air freshener! It's a killer, I tell ya! A killer!" Said a man. "Just look Bobby!" Bobby, I guessed, was the poor sap I blinded.

And as quick as they came, they left. They ran and ran screaming, "Run away! Run away!" And so Tim and I left in peace–not pieces.

"I better get going," I said.

"Alright. See ya!"

And so we parted. I went into the streets to try out my new fangs. It didn't go as well as I had hoped–no one would die. So after an hour or two of biting people in the neck ("Ow! Hey stop that, you twit!" Said one.), I went back to my apartment and fell asleep.

When I awoke the next morning, I read in the newspaper this shocking headline:

EXTREME USAGE OF BAND-AIDS CAUSES DOCTORS TO FRIGHT

Well, at least I made the headlines–the Band-Aid usage had to be the result of me biting people. Then under the headline he read:

Witnesses say that a man wearing all black came running through the town yesterday night biting' people. Some say that this is the recoming of the vampires.

"Oh, great," I said to myself, "I just brought the vampire society out of hiding! The cops will be all over the place! I'm screwed!"

At that point I decided to give up being a vampire and take off my Vampire Pride T-shirt.

I put on some regular' clothes and walked out the door. Cops were everywhere! They were testing every human being for vampirism by placing them infront of a mirror and placing garlic and a cross in their hands.

Try to act normal, I thought.

I walked down the street. All of a sudden, a police officer yelled at me to take the test. Well, I wasn't going to so I ran. I could hear the cop chasing me. Faster I went. Faster faster faster. And then, in an instant, something hit me in the back of the head–a bullet.

And that's my story–basically. The bullet hit me and I fell over, allowing the cop to grab me, hit me with his nightstick, and throw me in his car. When I finally came to, I was in a cell. And so here I am, rotting away with a psychopath who likes peanuts–that's my cellmate. He's pretty nice, if you give him a peanut every five seconds. Why didn't that bullet kill me? Well, only a steak in the heart or amputation of the head will kill a vampire, duh.

Oh, I gotta go, it's feeding time. I hope they save some chocolate pudding for me. Well have a nice rest of your life–I know I wont, being immortal and all. Ha ha ha. Well see ya. Oh, and one more thing: If you're a vampire, don't tell anyone.

Vampires are real. They are dangerous and they are weird looking. Anything and everything related to vampires belongs to the vampire society. The air freshener belongs to Pine Tree Air fresheners Inc. and the name Jack Albert belongs to the person who was coincidentally named Jack Albert. Any name, place, or object that was placed in this entry is not ours and we don't want it. We are pretty sure the word duh' is property of the Spice Girls and belongs to them. We do not wish to be sued for we have nothing. If you so chose to sue us, you will be immediately disappointed and doing so is extremely insane. If you experienced pain, discomfort, or a rash while reading this, please inform your nearest McDonalds and they will give you a good laugh at. Please keep in mind that this is a work of not-so realistic fiction and any person or persons that share the name of a person or persons in this story should be shot for being so damn coincidental. If you would like to complain to us about this story, don't.