Rule of Three Blogfest
Prompt: There is a humorous circumstance
Word count: 514
*This story takes place approximately halfway between the events of Bill the Vampire and Scary Dead Things.
Part 1: Bill
They say the road to Hell is paved with good intentions. I’m pretty sure whoever first said that had a roommate as monumentally stupid as mine. Tom, the stupid roomie in question, sat in the shotgun seat while my second roommate, Ed, was behind the wheel of the parked car. The street, the only one in this jerkwater town from the looks of things, wasn’t exactly crowded. However, the few locals milling about were giving us more than enough bewildered stares. This probably had something to do with Tom being dressed in full warlock regalia while I sat in the back wearing a cloak and an executioner’s hood. Ed, the only one of us with any shame, was dressed normally.
We were in character. However, my outfit was also a bit of a necessity. It allowed me to walk around without bursting aflame in the sunlight. Things like that can really ruin a guy’s day. See, I’m a vampire. Yes, I’m serious! They...err...we exist.
Being undead, a day trip is something I’d usually ixnay at least in the 3 or so months since I had been turned. However, things had been a bit stressful for me since then and my friends had finally suggested a weekend road trip to help me decompress a bit. Too bad we had left the planning up to Tom.
"Renaissance, population three-hundred and thirty three." sighed Ed, repeating the words on the sign leading into this bumblefuck town. "Not including three visitors, two of which are dressed like total doofuses, who I am assuming will not be attending a goddamned renaissance festival." That last part was directed at Tom.
"Ok, I admit I might have read it wrong on Google." he replied.
"Might!?" I queried from the cramped backseat. "I’m dressed like a fucking gimp in a dipshit town where I’m sure half the residents would gladly tell me to squeal like a pig and you might have read it wrong?"
"Cut me some slack, Bill." he replied, pulling his glue-on wizard goatee off. "I mean seriously, who names a town Renaissance and then doesn’t host a ren-faire in it?"
"People less stupid than you apparently." commented Ed, as he shut off the engine and opened the door.
"Where are you going?"
"I’ve been driving for hours. I need to stretch my legs."
"I could use a piss break myself." mused Tom, peeling his costume off to reveal jeans and a t-shirt underneath.
I mumbled something rude and then got out to join them. "Let’s get inside somewhere. I feel like a Luche Libre wrestler’s retard cousin." I griped. They grinned in response, knowing damn well I couldn’t remove my outfit until after sundown. Assholes.
Ed steered us towards what looked to be the town’s lone tavern. Good. A couple of stiff drinks could make even Tom’s idiocy bearable. We were passing what appeared to be a rundown trading post, a sign outside proclaiming “Heriot’s Pass cavern tours. Open Daily!” (fucking tourist traps!), when the front door creaked opened and a voice beckoned us from within.
"Get in here....now!"
To Be Continued...