HONK IF YOURE DISCLAIMERING: All XWP characters are
copyright so-and-so by whats-his -face. No copyright infringement intended
and no profit gained. The story is mine, so think twice about plagiarizing.
HAPPY TALK!: I know what youre thinking. "Ew, another depressing
Mel and Janice story! Run for the freaking hills!" Au contraire, my dear
readers. This one is extremely low on the angst meter, has a happy ending, and
is evendare we say it"humorous."
THANKS: To governal for beta duties, and to the Academy folks for being
HONK UNLESS YOU WANT ME TO STOP WRITING THESE DAMN THINGS:
The Fangs of Academe
October 25, 1947
Sioux Falls, South Dakota
Percival Latrobe1 lived encased in a world of shadows, quiet, angst-ridden
solitude, and argyle socks. In other words, he was a librarian. Very few patrons
of the Sioux Falls Public Library believed there was anything under that meek
exterioranything that would indicate a beating heart, a rushing pulse, or
a fiery passion.
And they were all rightnone of these things lurked under Percivals
sweater-vest. He did not work in the library so much as hovered in it, a bow-tied
angel shelving books and defending ancient, dog-eared copies of Lady Chatterlys
Lover and Forever Amber from the prying eyes of hormone-addled
adolescents and general all-around perverts.
Nonetheless, he possessed a secret that would have shocked most of his colleagues. 2
His annual vacation plans involved monitoring and rectifying a certain situation
in the eastern part of the countrynamely, Cambridge, Massachusetts. He felt
fortunate that the one person in the world who could help him lived there as well.
And so on a windy, leaf-swept day in late October, Percival set out on a 2-day
long train excursion across the country to perform a sacred duty, and if necessary,
to risk his very life in defense of all that was good, decent, and natural in
And if he got to be goggle-eyed and lovestruck in the presence of Janice Covington,
well, all the better.
Department of Archaeology & Anthropology
Two days later
Despite his long acquaintance with Janice Covington 3, he was not
accustomed to seeing the young archaeologist in anything other than grubby, worn
khakis, a battered leather jacket, and a perpetual scowl. Had it not been for
that endearing, enduring look of dissatisfaction upon her lovely face, he would
have not recognized her as she strode down the hallway toward her office: Her
hair was combed and organized into a bun at the back of her head, and she wore
a skirt. A skirt! 4
He tensed in anticipation at her approach, but her eyes betrayed no sign that
she saw him, let alone recognized him. In fact, she sailed right by and opened
her office door, no more than 12 feet away from where he stood. Percival was about
to issue a squeak of protest at this ignominy when a hand seized his sweater vest
and dragged himnot unlike Alice sucked down the rabbit holeinto the
humble office of Dr. Covington, whereupon he was thrown roughly into a leather
chair facing a battered wooden desk.
Breathless with a fear that manifested itself in the alarming constriction
of his bladder, Percival looked up at the angry woman standing over him.
"What the hell do you think youre doing?"
Janice hissed. "What did I tell you about showing up here? People will talk.
I have a reputation." 5
"Im sorry, Janice, really I am,"
he sputtered. "But I need you."
"Shut up." She pulled off the dark jacket
covering her white blouse, kicked off her heels, and, with a breathtakingly fierce
passion, straddled him and sank her hands into his hair, intoxicating him with
savage tenderness as she pulled on his scalp. "And so you shall have me,
my prince," she growled before plastering her lips to his.
Unfortunately for Percival, the last paragraph was a mere fantasia playing
out in the darkened theater of his mind (except, of course, for the "shut
up"). Her flaring nostrils always did that to him. She was truly a magnificent
creature, and how she failed to win Vampire Hunter of the Month in April of 1947
was beyond him! He had lobbied tirelessly on her behalf, thought that taking out
a werewolf would be an added laurel upon her heaving breast and would indeed clinch
the award, but no, Mr. Harvey Wolpert of Staten Island, New York apparently was
more worthy of the trophy. But had Harvey Wolpert taken out a bevy of bloodsuckers
armed with only toothpicks and garlic breath? No. Janice had done itafter
eating an entire loaf of garlic bread at a nearby Italian restaurant. 6
Janice flopped down in the chair behind her desk and began rummaging through
the drawer for a cigar. "I thought we were square, Percy. I told you, the
last time was it. Im done with all this crap. I dont have the time
"I understand that."
"Do you? Then why are you here?" She rescued
a cigar from the chaos of the desk and lit up.
"You dont understand. The situation is
critical. The local cell is active again."
"Call the National Guard."
"Please dont be facetious. It makes me break out in hives."
Janice blew smoke rings. "I got no sympathy for you."
"And bad grammar is an affectation I could do
without as well!" Percival burst out. "Oh!" He stamped his foot.
She squinted at him. "Whats the deal here? This is about more than
that bunch of vampires hiding out in the old Radclyffe mansion, isnt it?"
He was pleased. "So you are aware of their presence."
"Im a member of the Chamber of Commerce."
"Liar," Percy retorted defiantly.
"Okay, the kid across the street from me delivers
papers. The Radclyffe joint is on his route. He told me about em."
"I" His mouth formed words but none
came. How to proceed? he thought miserably. He knew he had to tread very
Janice sat attentively at her desk; she mustered a fair approximation of a
concerned look upon her face and folded her hands as if she were a real estate
agent ready to lay to rest her clients each and every concern about the
dilapidated fire hazard they were about to purchase.
"You know," Percival croaked, "I
am very fond of you, and I have the greatest respect for your considerable, variable
talents. Its true that the, ah, situation with the vampires in this area
brought me here, but since my arrival I have become aware of a problem that is
potentially very, very grave and involves you directly."
He could tell she was torn among genuine curiosity, natural skepticism, and
the need to encourage him further; as a result, her eyebrows squiggled and her
mouth bent into an uneasy smile. She resembled an actress in a silent movie, pantomiming
crude emotions for the benefit of an audience of simpletons.
Percival continued. "And so you will understand why I feel the need to
expressmost emphatically and vociferouslymy heartfelt concern over
your current living situation."
Here Janices fraudulent expressions collapsed in genuine confusion. "Huh?"
"Thatwoman that you live with." Percival
shuddered. "And I use the word woman loosely."
Her eyes narrowed in a way that made him exceedingly uncomfortable. "Just
what are you saying?"
"What I am saying, what is so patently obvious,
it simply devastates me that the truth so blatantly flaunts itself, and that you
are so blind to the fact that you live with one of themyou
live with a vampire!"
As he feared, Janice burst into giggles. "Hoo boy," she wheezed.
"You think Mel7 is a vampire?"
"All the evidence points to it!" His hysteria
escalated. "Shes pale as a corpse, never goes out during the day, and
the other evening when you two were at that Italian restaurant she positively
recoiled from the garlic!"
Janice stood up and walked over to him. He was expecting a sympathetic reassurance,
perhaps, as she let him in on her grand master planshe wasnt really
in thrall to a vampire, she was stringing the creature along. Yes, she was doing
"undercover" work as it werein fact, perhaps the scary tall woman
was the leader of the Northeastern Contingent!
Instead, Janice boxed his right ear rather severely. He yelped in pain. "What
did I tell you about following me?" She bent over so that her mouth was level
with his pink, throbbing ear. "I dont like it!" she hollered.
"Im sorry," Percival whined as he
skittered away from her. "I was worried."
"Its touching, in a sick kind of way,
but I assure you, Percy, I can take care of myself." She paused; reassuring
him was clearly a second thought. "My friend is not a vampire."
"Are you certain, Janice? Shes so big!"
Percy exclaimed. "In a fight, could you take her?"
A cocky smile spread across Janices face like melted butter as she settled
back into her desk chair. "Oh trust me, I can take her."
Instead of assuaging his fears, this statement only pointed to the existence
of previous scuffles. "Have you?" Percival gasped. "Has she everhurt
Janice scratched her jaw thoughtfully. "Well, there was one time she almost
cracked my head like a coconut8, but that was when" She stopped abruptly
and unleashed a symphony of Garbo-in-Camille fake, histrionic coughs in
an effort to camouflage a sudden and rare blush.
The vampire hunter leapt to his feet and presented a clean, neatly folded handkerchief
to the object of his affections.
"Thanks," Janice replied grudgingly. "Ive
never gotten a clean one before."
"Youre welcome." Percival dipped
his head bashfully, causing blonde curls to tumble upon his fair brow and lightly
graze the frame of his tortoiseshell glasses. "You know, I do need your help
to defeat the Northeastern Contingent. I cant do it alone."
She snorted. "You cant do it at all." The handkerchiefwhich
Janice quickly deposited in a desk drawerwas not, unfortunately, an adequate
offering to the esteemed Dr. Covington. "Told you. Im done with it."
"You cant be!"
"You shant be!"
"I shan." Janice retorted then frowned,
disappointed that once again grammar, like the best-looking and easiest lay at
a bad party, so easily eluded her.
Percival loathed what he was about to do, but he firmly believed there was
no other option available to him. He fumbled with the locks on his briefcase,
and five minutes laterafter Janice had pointedly yawned, stretched, and
hummed "The Battle Hymn of the Republic"out came the contract9.
He ruffled the thick, bound stack of legalese that, unfortunately, had committed
herforever and inextricably, it seemedto the duty of vampire hunting.
Janice squirmed. "Thats not my signature." 10
"I have witnesses."
"Trotsky is dead!"
"Frida isnt, and shes still mad
about what you said about her eyebrow.11" Percivals thumb stopped at
exactly the page he wanted. "Let me direct your attention, once again,
to Paragraph 187, clause 17c: If the hunter signs the contract in his own
blood, thus the contract is legal and binding until the expiration of the undersigneds
mortal life, or parent company Acme Vampire Hunters of Wichita is bankrupt or
legally acquired by another corporation except U.S. Steel and/or Coca-Cola."
"I did not sign in blood! It was red ink! Red
"Janice," he rebuked her sharply, "do
stop this charade 12. If you agree to help me, I agree not to follow up on my quite
legitimate concerns about your roommate."13 This was a lie. He had every intention
of keeping an eye on the suspicious Melinda Pappas. It was a necessary precaution;
he had to keep the woman he loved absolutely safe but given his extreme fear of
anyone over 57", it would be quite a challenge.
Janice stared at the loathsome document. "Tequila. Never again," 14
If only I could burn the contract.
Janice bundled together a batch of small, sharp, and very pointy wooden stakes.
She placed the bundle into a rucksack.
That means I have to get at that briefcase, and to get at that briefcase,
I might have to getclose to him.
Her face curdled with such intensity that she gave herself a headache. She
knew Percy was sweet on her, and a little bit of flirting might do the trick,
but that was precisely the problem. It was all fine and well if you were Mel,
where the merest twitch of a suggestive eyebrow and the lowest purr of a Southern
drawl could ensure a better cut of meat or an extra bottle of milkno chargebut
for Janice flirting was limited to broads because when she flirted, she meant
Thinking of Mel, Janice realized she hadnt quite figured out what tack
to take in regard to her activities this evening. She had never bothered to share
with Mel the truth on this particular matter; Mel had a skeptical streak several
miles wide and no doubt would think her lover quite demented. As if she doesnt
think youre a loon already, Janice thought16. She rubbed
her lower lip thoughtfully. Percy was rightthe situation (as he kept calling
it) was bad. The population of the vampires in the Northeast Contingent had doubled.
A large segment of them were holed up in the Radclyffe house. Shed been
lucky in the past whenever Percy had called upon her to kill the bloodsucking
little fuckers; only once had she taken on more than two at a time, and at the
time she had been armed with her deadliest weapon: garlic breath. But now, on
such short notice, there was no way to get any of the stuff: It was late, the
market was closed, as was the local Italian restaurant, and they didnt have
any garlic in house. It occurred to Janice to inquire about borrowing some from
a neighbor, but she was certain Mrs. Grove wouldafter what happened to Buddyslam
the door in her face17.
Janice unfurled a sigh. This is fucking serious. Ive got to tell her
the truth. Especially if I get bittenshell need to be prepared. Shell
need to defend herself. God, if only I could rely on Percy to protect her, but
hes so hung up on that idea of her being one of them!
She slung the rucksack over her shoulder and with single-minded intent stalked
through the house until she reached Mels sanctum sanctorum.
Janices violently melodramatic kicking open of the studys door
had no discernable effect on the absorbed Mel. The translator sat crouched over
her desk, blue eyes riveted to a stack of paper18, left hand cupping the back of
her neck, right hand curled around a fountain pen. Janice worried that someday
Mels writing hand would permanently lock into a crone-like position, so
fiercely did she hold the pen.
"Weve got to talk about something,"
Janice announced severely. "Now."
Mel made a noise of consent19.
Janice drew a shaky breath. The best way is the direct way. "Im
going vampire hunting."
It was only after she said it that she realized how ludicrous it sounded.
Mel did not move a muscle. "Thats nice, dear," she replied
in most conciliatory tone.
"Im not kidding around."
"Do you want me to pack you a lunch?"
"Goddammit, are you listening to me? Im not going ice skating or
"I havent seen your skates, honey."
"Fuck!" Janice shrugged the rucksack off her shoulder.
The noisy clatter of the wooden stakes within the sack finally claimed Mels
attention. She stretched ominously and stood, peeking over the edge of her huge
desk as several wooden stakes slid out of an opening in the rucksack. "Just
what on earth is going on here?" Mel demanded.
At last! Janice thought. She opened her mouth but was cut off by further
Southern exclamations of disbelief.
"Im not a complete fool, Janice. I know
you told me that baseball season ended, but what am I supposed to think when youre
walking around with a whole bundle of bats in a sack?" Mel frowned and walked
around the desk for a closer inspection of the strange baseball bats. "Arent
the ends usually rounded? These are sharp. They look very dangerous." She
tilted her head curiously. "But waitwait a moment."
Are you getting it? Janice thought frantically. Comprehending the
situation? Please say yes.
"Is this some sort of alternate version
Janice felt a vein throbbing along her temple; the sensation was not unlike
"I shouldnt be surprised that someone
devised a way to stretch this tedious, so-called national pastime
into a year-long spectacle," Mel was muttering. "What do you do? Stab
"Will you please fucking listen to me?"
Mel gaped in shock at being addressed so; her eyes generated an icy outrage.
"Im sorry," Janice said automatically.
"But I need you to listen to me. Im about to embark on something dangerous
here. I dont want to do it, butI have to do the right thing or Ill
never be able to live with myself." She paused. "Okay, okay, I signed
a contract and the guy said if I dont follow through hell throw my
ass in jail. He is kinda stuck on me but I wouldnt put it past him not to
do that. I know once upon a time it was my goal to be arrested in every country
Ive ever been in but after Tijuana"
Mel folded her arms across her marvelously ample bosom. "Is there a point
to this charming anecdote, darling?"
"Yes. Im trying to tell youthat
Im going vampire hunting. Its dangerous. I dont know when
Ill be back. Or even if Ill come back. But no matter what happens,
I want you to remember one thing: I love you. Ive never loved anyone like
you. You are my life. You mean everything to me."
"Oh, God. Janice." Mel turned away quickly.
Janice reached out and gently grasped her wrist. "Dont cry."
"Cry?" Mels voice was hollow. "Why should I cry?"
Geez, I dunno, baby, maybe cause I might be dead by morning? "I
dont know. I"
"I mean, really"
Dismally, Janice realized that the conversation was once again taking a hairpin
turn into the absurd.
"is it necessary to make up these ridiculous
If Janices mouth hadnt become so dry from the sheer shock and stress
of it all, she would have spit. "What?" she roared.
Mel rolled her eyes. "I know you want to go out. Its true I havent
been much fun lately. I am very sorry, butif you want to go out and get
drunk, just say so. I dont quite understand why you must get so intoxicated
sometimes, but I know you need to do it, so just do it. Dont lie to me about
it!" She sighed in exasperation and retrieved her purse from the desk. "I
think I have enough for bail this timeif it comes to that." She gave
Janice a truly frigid look indicating that if indeed it did come to that, it would
be advisable not to return home ever. "Ill at least give you some money
for a cab. I really dont fancy having Mr. ONeill21 calling me again
at three a.m. to come peel you off the barroom floor. In fact, I dont know
whats worsea drunken Irishman or a leering bail bondsman, so please
try to have the presence of mind to get a taxi home, would you?" Finally,
she pressed a twenty-dollar bill into Janices limp hand and steered the
befuddled archaeologist toward the front door. "Just promise me you wont
start anything violent. Or do I have to remind you of what happened the last time
we were in a fight?" 22
One last shove sent Janice tumbling over the threshold. When the door shut
behind her and she noticed flurries of snow dancing in the darkened sky, she feared
the night would only get more surreal.
After such a long acquaintance with Percival, Janice found it easy to dwell
on the negative aspects of his character: His innate cowardice, his shameless
exploitation of a contract that she had signed in a state of complete inebriation,
his spineless, dewy-eyed devotion to her, and most creepily of all, those fucking
Shirley Temple dolls, which gave her a serious case of the chills every time she
thought about them.
Thus it was easy to forget that Percy was nothing if not resourceful. Having
left the house in such a daze, Janice recalled too late that she had left the
wooden stakes on the floor of Mels study. Fearing ensnarement in another
ridiculous conversation, she didnt relish going back to try and fetch them.
Now garlic-less and stake-less, she realized she needed to come up with a completely
new battle strategy. Fortunately, inspiration hit. When she rendezvoused with
Percival outside the elegant Radclyffe mansion where the Northeastern Contingent
had their base of operations, Janice wasted no time and gave the following urgent
instruction for her vampire-battling comrade: "Get me some handcuffs. As
many pairs as you can. Now."
Well into the wee hours of the morning, she arrived at Percys hotel room
and staredwith complete aweat a large suitcase filled with almost
fifty pairs of handcuffs. "How the hell did you get all these?"
Percival squirmed in glee at the unexpected praise from his princess and basked
in the warmth of her admiration. "A boy must have his secrets," he replied
She shook her head in pleasant disbelief. "Ill be a sonofabitch."
Together they picked through the merchandise. Janice carefully examined each pair
she encountered, checking for weak links, broken bits, and faulty locks, while
Percival cradled and cooed over the shiniest cuffs, much like a debutante let
loose in a jewelry store.
"This one is strange." Percival held up a pair padded on the inside
with leather trim. "What kind of police organization would coddle criminals
"Ah." While Janice did not blush, she
had no desire to detail what kind of degenerate would find use for such a pair
of handcuffs. "Ithink theyre Swedish."24
A skeptical frown creased Percivals brow. "Oh." The tone of
that single syllable indicated he hadnt a clue as to what she intimated.
He cleared his throat. "Janice, you havent told me what your plan is
"You dont need to know, Percy. Just leave
everything to me." For the plan to succeed Janice hoped that tonightHalloween,
this most sacred holiday in the calendar of the undeadthe vampires were
having a hell of a good time and drinking themselves into enough of a stupor so
that the element of surprise would be in her favor.
And for once, it was. Several long, hard hours later, in an operation involving
the utmost stealth and concentration, 23 drunken, passed-out vampiresobviously
unable to resist several rare cases of priceless Bordeauxwere handcuffed
to one another, linked together like a dull chain of dead daisies, or tarnished
tinsel around a lifeless, brittle Christmas tree. One end of the vampire chain
was latched to the foot of an appallingly heavy, seemingly unmovable (or so Janice
hoped) sarcophagus made of iron, lead, and brassobviously where the head
vampire usually "slept." To impede any escape, the heavy doors were
locked and barricaded from beyond with as much furniture as Percival could pile
against them. The only good thing about his increasing hysteria was that his ability
to move heavy objects quadrupled.
Janice realized that she was more or less trapped in a room with 23 vampires
and if her plan didnt work, she was a dead woman. Or even worse, she would
become one of them. Oh fuck it, I cant think about that now. On with
She leapt onto a banquet table situated near a long, velvety curtain, and sent
some rather priceless-looking goblets crashing to the floor. As she expected,
the noise roused some members of her audience. "Ladies and gentlemen! Mesdames
et messieurs!" Even at this crucial moment,
Janice could picture Mel wincing at her lousy French. "Thank you for joining
me today. Its great to be here! But I gotta say, tough crowdnot single
a clap! Now when was the last time you heard a girl complain about not getting
There were ominous stirringsthe vampires groggily awakened. Some even
realized they were handcuffed.
"Geez, that was my best line, too. Well, Im
disappointed, really I am. But I realize a lot of you arent here to see
me. Nope, youre here to catch the really big star of the show. And who I
am to deny you that?"
Many vampires were pulling frantically at the bonds that held them together,
but were in too weakened a state to do so; others banged the cuffs desperately
against the floor, trying to smash the handcuffs open. All of them, however, now
knew the gravity of the situation they were in.
Janice hurried along. "Very well, then. So let me present, without any
further adieu, that star youve been dying to see for years, the biggest
star around for about the last 10,000 years" She latched onto a thick,
tasseled cord that hung listlessly against the heavy, dark velvet brocade curtain
and pulled on it as hard as she could, and shouted"the sun!"
For the first time in almost 100 years, sunlight from the now exposed picture
window filled the room of the mansionas did the piercing screams of the
dying vampires. Each one exploded into brilliant flames, rivaling the sun for
glory, but in the end amounting to nothing more than a suffusion of ash floating
aimlessly in beams of golden light.
"Thank you, thank you!" Janice bowed at
her now obliterated, still smoldering audience. "Ill be in the Catskills
next month, Lake Tahoe in the spring."
Mission accomplished, Janice felt rather rakish. She found a smaller window,
opened it, and attempted a dashing leap outside. Her foot caught on the edge of
the sash and she fell into a rose bush lightly coated with soft snow. She was
stumbling to her feet and removing a thorn from her upper arm when Percival came
scrambling out of the house from the front door.
"That was amazing!" he cried. He peered
into the now empty banquet room, littered with dust and handcuffs. "Youre
Janice coughed and greedily inhaled the clean, cold sharpness of the autumn
air. "Christ, I hate the smell of vampire in the morning."
Percival dropped onto bended knee and lovingly proffered her leather jacket,
which had been given to him for safekeeping during the mission.
She managed not to roll her eyes as she pulled on the jacket, and sighed happily
at its familiar warmth. "Did you secure the area?"
"What? Oh, yes. Yes. I checked everywhere,
from attic to basement. Werather, yougot them all."
"Good." She rubbed her neck and wondered
if there was possibly any way she could sneak back into the house without Mel
noticing. If she were lucky, Mel would be just as immersed in her work as she
Unfortunately, before she could even take a step in the direction of home,
Percival had seized her arms with uncommon force. "You are the most incredible
woman Ive ever met."
Oh no. She knew what that meant.25
He leaned in toward her. Her sinuses still tickled from all the vampire dust
and she sneezed, pleased that a natural reflex quickly saved her from pummeling
Percy. "Er, sorry. Im allergic to boys."
He wiped away a fine mist of Covington bacteria from his face with a handkerchief.
"I dont understand," he said quietly. "I know Im not
exactly Clark Gable, butwhy dont you feel the same way as I do? I
need to know."
Janice contemplated what to do. She couldnt let this go on. A little
worship was good for the egoeven when you had a beautiful, brainy, buxom
brunette waiting for you at homebut this was rapidly getting out of hand.
And as much as she was loath to be dishonest about her queerness, she was certain
that Percival would not understand it. He was far too entrenched in the world
of vampires and misty castles and noble heroines and unselfish deeds done for
the greater good. She lived in the real world of underpaid academics, cold coffee
at department meetings, and a lover who got cranky and would withhold sex whenever
she didnt mow the lawn every week.
Percival opened his mouth to speak again. She reached out, hoping to place
a feather-light touch against his chapped lips. Instead her fingers crashed against
his moist nostrils. She winced. It must be something they teach in charm school,
she thought. "Dont talk," she commanded breathlessly, going into
a histrionic, Bette Davis-like overdrive. "Theres something I must
tell you about myself."
"What?" He, too, was caught in the whirlpool
of melodrama and blinked with mad abandon.
"You see," she began, "I have a war
"Awarwound." His voice was
teetered on the apex between belief and skepticism.
She thrust her chin out and clenched her hands together. "It happened
on an air transport. We were high above the French countryside. It was crowded,
you seethey were transporting not only WACs but cargo too. There werent
many places to sit. I was sitting on a crate filled with" Janice bit
a knuckle. Dont oversell! she cautioned herself. "tins
of baked beans. Well, the air pressure in the cabin was just too much and it exploded
and" She turned away from Percival and gurgled violently, hoping the
noise would pass for a sympathy-inducing feminine sob.
"Oh." Again, this befuddled syllable indicated
that he had no idea what had happened to Janice on that fictional air transport,
but neither did he have the words or the guts to plumb the fraudulent depths of
the strange story. Nonetheless, he pressed on, determined to win her love. "Well,
gosh, I dont care about that. I love you. I want to marry you."
Janice dropped the act; her shoulders slumped. "No, you dont. Listen:
I drink like a fish. Im a bum. I get into fights. Id burn all your
Shirley Temple dolls. Im not worth it, Percy."
"I dont care," he retorted stubbornly.
She countered, in a warning sing-song, "Youre forcing me to tell
you the truth."
"Very well, then!" Percy cried. "Lets have it!"
"Fine: Youre not my cup of tea. I like
girls, not boys. Particularly that big girl I live with. In fact, Im downright
nuts about her. Got it?"
"Oh." There was a resignation to his tone
now. Absently he bunched up the edge of his tweed jacket with nervous, sweaty
hands. "Thats kind ofimmoral, isnt it?"
"So is eating shellfish, they tell me. I think
I can live with it." He was staring at the ground, and immediately she regretted
her flippant tone. "Im sorry. I dont want to hurt you, really,
but its not gonna happen. I love someone else."
He swallowed his bitter disappointment. "I understand. And I appreciate
your being honest with me." He paused thoughtfully and accepted her gentle
pat of his shoulder. "But Janice?"
Percy shot her a timid, embarrassed gaze. "How can youdo anything
with your war wound?"
Like a cloak, the night offered him some protectionnot only from easy
identification, but, strangely enough, from his own simmering fear. For a solid
week he had been carefully monitoring the comings and goings of Melinda Pappasfor
a vampire, she was an alarmingly habitual creature.
Percy could deal with Janices predilectionsalbeit reluctantlybut
what he could not accept was her being in love with a vampire. It was too dangerous.
Not to mention unseemly. No, it would not do at all. So he took upon himself
the heavy mantle of responsibilityhe would have to kill the creature. Or,
at the very least, die trying. Or, at the very, very least, frighten her out of
her wits with a dazzling display of heroism and bravado that would show her that
he was aware of her, he was watching her, and he would kill her if she so much
as harmed a golden hair on Janices sacred skull.27
As usual, the object of his surveillance walked with brisk grace; her head
was bowed as if she were deep in thought, and she clutched a purse against the
side of her long, dark coat.
Weeks of practice finally paid off; he timed his exit from his hiding place
with perfection and leapt in front of her.
With a loud gasp, she stopped.
Yes, he thought gleefully, she was afraid of him! He had the advantage, the
upper hand! Dramatically, he pulled the large, glittering cross from the safety
of his coat pocket. "The power of Christ compels you!"28
As Percy expected, she took a frightened step back. He also anticipated the
dark, glowering look, and the glint of her bright eyes calculating the situation.
His hand shook. She seemed to grow and loom with increasing menace. With his free
hand, he tightened the red scarf around his tender neck, the very part of his
anatomy that he was certain she would be feasting off of within a matter of minutes.
Goodbye, cruel world! Goodbye, perverted archaeologist who would not love me!
What Percy did not expect was precisely what happened. Mels right arm
whipped out as she clobbered the side of his face with the heaviest, hardest clutch
purse a man had ever encountered in modern times. As he lay in a crumpled heap
upon the snow-blown sidewalk, desperately willing the head-splitting pain and
the quadruple vision to go away, he heard, at last, the entrancing voice of the
"The power of Christ compels you to learn some
manners, young man!"
The rapid click of her heels grew distant, as did his obsessive infatuation
with Janice. Like Krazy Kat smitten with a brick, so true love was revealed to
the fickle Percival. Gosh, what a pretty voice she has, he thought dreamily.
That accent is justdivine.
Janice sprawled on the couch in the living room as she read a newspaper. When
the click and creak of the opening front door announced Mels arrival, she,
like Pavlovs Mad Dog, immediately yanked her dirty stockinged feet off the
Mel was muttering to herself, a sure sign that once again she had encountered
disturbing minutiae in the modern world. Perhaps someone had sneezed in the library
and no one said "God bless you," or a taxi driver didnt thank
her when she tipped him, or someone out there was violating all the laws of civilization
by wearing plaid with stripes. It could be anything, Janice surmised, so she waited
patiently until Mel made her entrance into the living room.
When she did, Mel pulled out of her purse a small yet thick Greek grammar book.
The thing was so heavy that Janice wondered if the cloth binding actually covered
leaves of steel.
"Hey," Janice drawled.
"Do you know if there is some sort insane asylum
in our neighborhood?" Mel placed the old, beloved book on the coffee table.
"If there is, Im going to give that real estate agent of ours a piece
of my mind"
"Why? What happened?"
"I was accosted by some wild man."
Janice jumped to her feet. Guilty at alarming her companion so, Mel placed
a calming hand upon the smaller womans shoulder. "Its all right.
He didnt hurt me. He just scared me, thats all."
"What the hell happened?" Janice repeated.
"I was walking down Maple Avenue and some man
jumped in front of mehed been hiding in the shrubbery near the Boltons
house. Then he pulled out this huge"
"Holy shit!" roared Janice. "Ill
"No, it wasnt that." Mel blushed
and gently backhanded Janice in the stomach. "It was a cross. He shoved
this large, bejeweled cross in my face. It was obviously Byzantine, Im guessing
early 12th century, but it was so dark that I couldnt be sure"
"Mel. No academic discourses at home, remember?"29
"Sorry. Anyway, he was yelling something about
Christ and I hit him with my purse and knocked him down. Then I ran."
A sneaking suspicion overtook Janice. "What did he look like?"
very meek, mild-mannered. Sort of like Harold Lloyd."30
Wearily Janice covered her eyes and shook her head. Goddamn Percy. When
will he go back to Sioux Falls? She flopped back down on the couch. "Well,"
she began nervously, "its probably just some Halloween-related prank."
Mel sat down next to her. "Halloween was a week ago."
"For some idiots," Janice said as she picked
up the newspaper, "the holiday just goes on and on."
"Hmm." Mel curled up next to her lover,
propping her chin upon Janices shoulder, her breath tickling the sheaf of
golden hair about the perfect round little ear. "You mean, for some people
vampires?" She made a loud, feral hissing noise. That, combined with a quick,
teasing flash of her large, unfanglike teeth sent Janice pole-vaulting over the
"That wasnt funny," growled Janice
from the presumed safety of the floor behind the couch.
"Really? I find it rather hilarious myself."
Mel looked over the back of the couch at Janice, who was curled protectively into
a fetal position. Her voice dropped into a low octave a-swirl with dark silkiness
and sexy menace. "You dont really think Im a vampire, do you?"
"Cut it out! I hate it when you do this! The
psychiatrist said you shouldnt be exploiting my irrational fears!" 31
"Dont be silly. Come here, let me prove
it to you, darling. Let me bite your neck."
"No!" Janice wailed.
"Just once. Let me bite you. I promise youll love every minute of
That was enough. The intrepid, fearless vampire hunter, who had finally met
her match, bolted up the stairs for the questionable safety of the bedroom, pursued
not by a vampire or any supernatural creature, but merely a lustful, Southern-bred
academic possessed of an occasionally cruel sense of humor.32
Percival Allen Latrobe, born 1909 in Shiskawickahicken, Pennsylvania, was at
one time 44th in line to inherit the great Rolling Rock brewery.
This great secretto be revealed in the next couple paragraphs, by the
wayis not what Percival himself considered his great secret: A secret collection
of Shirley Temple dolls. See Hero in a Bow Tie: A Hagiography of Percival A.
Latrobe, D.J. McCrackey, unpublished dissertation, 1972, Southwestern Pocatello
State University, p. 72.
Janice Covington, controversial figure in the world of classical archaeology
anduntil she was relatively domesticated by the love of a good womanlegendary
boozer, brawler, and inveterate skirt-chaser. Said acquaintance between Percival
(or "Percy" as only Janice called him) and Janice began in the autumn
of 1937 in Guadalajara a fabled sunny land, and, for Janice, a time of tequila,
senoritas, margaritas, and more tequila. No further explanation is needed in explanation
of the good doctors befriending of Percival and enlistment into his dubious
4 To the eternal horror of Janices companion, Melinda "Off
the Rack Gives Me a Heart Attack" Pappas, the skirt was purchased from the
"Rummy Old Lady" bin at the Salvation Army.
This is true, but it was nonetheless a bad reputation.
As a result, she was not kissed for approximately three days.
A reference to Janices terminally pale, garlic-averse Sapphic friend, Melinda
Pappas (see note 3), the noted translator and Southern Belle in Exile. For a fascinating
look at the oppressive manifesto that is Southern Ladyhood, see "A Cream-Colored
Complexion Will Win His Heart," Mrs. Seth Gunderson III, Ladies
Home Journal, May 1932.
This incident, occurring on March 7, 1947, left Janice with a mild concussion
and Mel in the position of desperately concocting a plausible story to the emergency
room doctor, who nonetheless refused to believe that the two young women in the
ER that night were Lithuanian circus acrobats practicing a watermelon toss with
The contract was signed in Guadalajara on November 3, 1937 to the accompaniment
of a mariachi band. The signing was witnessed by Leon Trotsky and Frida Kahlo,
whose famous sketch of Janice, "Drunken Gringa with a Dirty Sombrero,"
is sadly lost to posterity.
The actual signature, while indeed issued from Janices own hand, read "Ignatz
The exact quote was, "Sweetheart, get that anchovy off your forehead first
and maybe well talk." See "Sex and the Single Eyebrow," Camille
Paglia, International Journal of Hirsute Studies, volume 19, number 5,
He pronounced it "sha-rad"quite
pretentious for a boy from Pennsylvania.
Percival was unaware of Janices intimate sexual relations with her "roommate."
So caught up was he in the supernatural pursuit of vampires, his awareness and
attentiveness to the physical world he lived in was dangerously low and he believed
Janice was merely a typical "bachelor girl" too dedicated to her own
work to pursue any kind of romance.
Alas, Janice once again surrendered to the demon tequila at an archaeology conference
in La Paz in September of 1954; she awoke four days later in her hotel room and
discovered new stamps upon her passport, which provided some explanation as to
why she was dressed as a Canadian Mountie and engaged to the Crown Prince of Denmark.
See Great Moments in Crossdressing, T.H. Garter, University of Petaluma
Press, 1979 (specifically Chapter 5, "Covington Cuts a Red Swath Across Saskatchewan"
by D. Brown) and "Crown Prince a Loser in Love: Dumped by his American
Sweetheart," New York Herald-Tribune, September 29, 1954.
"One minute I was chatting up this gorgeous, heavenly little blonde with
glittering green eyes
named Jill or Janice or something
I think she
said she was a student of archaeology
the next minute I was naked from the
waist down and bent over the desk in my study
." Letter from Edna St.
Vincent Millay to her sister Norma, April 17, 1932.
"You mention in your last letter that your friend is crazier than a loon.
After witnessing her serenading a wild tiger with a Rodgers and Hart medley, I
think you are completely right." Letter from Ernest Hemingway to Melinda
Pappas, August 7, 1951.
On September 9, 1947, Janice shot Buddy, an English terrier who was the constant
companion of her next-door neighbor, a widow named Mabel Grove. Having observed
the dog convulsing on the lawn while foaming at the mouth, Janice had believed
it to be rabid. Sadly, his behavior was due to Mrs. Groves ill-informed
attempt at brushing his teeth; Mel would later confirm that the late lamented
Buddys breath was indeed "minty fresh."
Mel was hard at work on preparing a contribution to a scholarly volume on Ancient
Greek death cults. Her terrible handwriting would be the culprit in many transcription
errors committed by her typist, one Harriet Gooch: the phrase "fatted calf"
saw its way into print as "feta carp" and "forgoing licentiousness"
became "fruit loops for consensus."
It was an "mmm" more than anything else, a noise Janice interpreted
as "Please proceed, but keep it short." An "ahhhh" was more
a consensual noise of sexual availability, and "muh" indicated that
frankly my dear, she couldnt give a damn.
The unfortunate wording made Mel think of her third fiancé, the equally
unfortunate Jarrett Tolliver, a ukulele-playing, rum-and-Coke swilling Vanderbilt
senior who made the mistake of grabbing the tender inside of Mels upper
thigh while she was scribbling notes on a student production of The Mikado
during a rehearsal of the show. In reality and despite his frequent insistence
to the contrary, her pen narrowly missed his testicles. Jarrett later died tragically
in an explosion that happened as he toured his familys eraser factory, leading
one of his former girlfriends to comment that poor grabby Jarrett finally got
blown, just not in a way that he ever intended.
Michael ONeill, proprietor of a neighborhood tavern that bore his nicknameMickeys.
A gregarious man with a gentle heart, he nonetheless loved to repeatedly show
shrapnel scars on his torso that he obtained from his tour of duty in the Pacific
during World War II. Mel was no exception to this free show.
Mel, firmly and deliriously convinced in the basic goodness of the vast majority
of humanity, believed that no one would dare hit a girl with glasses, and one
evening, upon arriving at Mickeys to whisk away her drunken lover, she tested
said belief by inserting herself into an argument between Janice and a 66"
longshoreman. She suffered broken glasses, a bloody nose, and a loss of faith
in her fellow man. Mickey suffered the loss of the wooden barstool that Janice
broke over the longshoremans back and the bottle of Jim Beam that she smashed
over his head. Janice was uninjured.
Breaking into the apartment of a known fetishist had accomplished the task, although
Percy, the owner of 27 Shirley Temple dolls, was oblivious as to why anyone would
collect something so odd.
While handcuffs did not typically factor into many of her sexual escapades, Janice
nonetheless possessed fond memories of how she was introduced to such pleasurable
use of themby the Countess Natalia Oblomov, a White Russian émigré
living in Paris. The Countess also owned a black obsidian dildo stolen from the
silent film star Ramon Navarro, another object that Janice dearly recalled. See
My Life and Loves, by Natalia Oblomov, privately published in a limited
edition of 5, Paris, 1959.
She knew that he was about to go for a kiss, if only because, several years beforehand,
Mel had said the exact same thing to her and what followed was the most mindblowingly
incredible kiss ever bestowed upon her cherubic lips in her entire life. She was
also certain beyond a shadow of a doubt that an interaction between her lips and
Percys would not produce a similar effect.
Mels observation on the "war wound" storywhich relied greatly
upon mens fear and ignorance concerning certain female body parts
was thus: "Someday, youll meet a man whos not so dumb as to actually
believe that." Unfortunately, her belief never panned out.
Unbeknownst to Percival, Mel had already harmed a great many hairs on Janices
head, as had occurred in many a misguided attempt to trim her companions
split ends and perpetually long bangs.
While Percival did not receive screen credit, over the remainder of his life he
did receive small royalty checks for this line, which appears in the movie The
As stipulated in a hastily scribbled domestic partnership living agreement, perhaps
the first document of its kind. Written in Dr. Covingtons own hand, it is
entitled "The 15 Atrocities." The atrocity that pertains to this passage
is Number 9, "Academic palaver at home," falling between "Saying
the phrase The South Shall Rise Again" and "Excessive flirting
at cocktail parties." See the Covington Archives, Box 19, Southeastern Pocatello
An American movie actor known for playing sissies and milquetoasts.
Janice was the unwilling recipient of a mandatory psychiatric profile conducted
by Harvard University on all employees considered eccentric, mentally unstable,
or sexually deviant. In other words, 93% of the institutions professional
staff and faculty underwent examination by psychiatrists.
And while the vampire hunter was bitten repeatedly, and in a number of embarrassing
places no less, she nonetheless lived happily ever after.