What We Do In the Shadows: "Jen..."

What We Do In The Shadows: "Jen..." Part LXXXVII...

What We Do In The Shadows: "Jen..."

Summary: There are unexpected consequences when Laszlo seeks a new human familiar...

Part LXXXVII...

"I can't believe the ingratitude with which I am surrounded..." a peevish Simon notes from his swivel chair in the former "fancy room" of the renamed Castle Devious. Already a number of rugs pulled and repainting...Black, paint it all Black! Simon had responded earlier that day to the painter crew captain's query.

Well...Belay that...On reflection, Simon had mused. "A nice shade of gold here, mauve here...Blue in my bedroom...That royal blue I like, you know? The stairway there that nice crimson you boys did in my club restoration? But that crypt...Lazslo's crypt!...Er, that big room below with the dark spots that look like coffins had once been there? Paint that black, all black!" to crew chief.

"Oh, yes...Coal black, not night black...Make it look dirty...Filthy...Not sleek and shiny. No, Laszlo, no...Your room will be an Unliving Testament to your filth and bad faith. Thanks, fellas. You guys are the best." He'd beamed.

Sigh in present...Swiveling in chair a bit...

"First...Carol leaves me, for redder pastures no doubt..."

Not what my sources tell me...Todd reflects. And those big-eared vamp assassins are pretty good at hearing death screams.

"Now...Samarta the Goth...Betrays me to that documentary crew. Though very nice fellas, all, really. I so admire their artistic dedication to the project..."

"At least she didn't run to the Cravensworths or the Hunters..." Lesley, videographing from the side, notes.

"Oh...This is even worse in its way. She forsakes me...For her career." Simon, fuming.

"And now those guys know Colin Robinson is involved with you..." Lesley, hastily seeking to avoid that subject. "If they should talk..."

"The one thing that would raise my spirits...To see Robinson torn to pieces by the old gang or staked, then fried...You really have to fry a daywalker to finish him...Like that poor Martian or whatever he was in that sci-fi movie?" Simon beams for an instant.

The 50s flick? Plant-man vampire invaders...? Personally, I found it just a bit offensive...Todd, sniffing.

"You don't think it would..." Lesley shrugs as the others in the room...Rappula, Todd, Raymond, formerly incapacitated by bad back, vamp...The Shriek Sisters...The somewhat reserved Harris, still not fully in on the plan...After all, Neal and Patrick had turned thumbs down. All frown.

Ruin the plan? Of course, it ruins the plan...And opens us up to attack if the Hunters find out. The one thing worthwhile about the Plan being we were just gonna watch and lick up the human remains...

"Ruin my plan? Why should it? People..." Simon sits upright, looking around. "Such long faces...Even if these humans break their oath to remain impartial and objective...And that's so wrong to assume in such dedicated artists. And I should hope Samarta maintains at least her journalistic standards, if not her loyalty to friends of long-standing. Having our erstwhile allies and my dear old friends and especially their devoted minion slave girls know Robinson is a traitor, out to betray them, doesn't change all that much. Nandor and his pals know I want them Unlive Essences and thus condemned to Hell one day...The Hunters suspect I'm opposing them in secret. If they focus on Robinson...And these daywalkers are tough to kill, I'll grant the little creeps that...It can only divert them from us and increase the danger to the little human minions, the true essential piece here."

"They've all sworn, much as they can, to protect them, Simon..." Lesley notes.

"And therein lies the trap..." Simon beams. "No vampire worthy of Redemption would betray such a trust...But my old pals will. I have faith in their miserable, cowardly essences. Push comes to shove against a stake, they'll abandon their pets and run, dooming themselves forever. Aha, ha, ha, ah, ah..." Coughs... "Sorry..."