"Um…" I tried to stop her, but she was on a roll.
"After I skin the assjacket and drain it…unless it's a fucking Troll…I will snap all the bones and shove them up their dead ass carcass."
"I enjoy shoving the bad guy's entrails down his throat before he's dead to watch him choke," Jane added unhelpfully. "I love that child even though he entered the world through your vagina. That was just the luck of the draw and he lost. We do not hold that against him and we will kill the shit out of anything that wants to harm him."
"Good to know," I croaked, trying not to gag and run. "However, that was entirely too much information and you almost made me puke, which is an impossibility for a Vampyre. Congrats."
"You're welcome." Jane preened and Martha smirked.
"Can you actually do any of that?" I asked, not wanting the answer but needing to make sure they could really defend my child.
"Ask the Trolls," Jane whispered as she gave me the thumbs up sign.
"And the Zombies," Martha added as she winked six or seven times, which made her look like she had an alarming tic. "They taste worse than ass, by the way."
"I got nothing," I muttered as I made my way back into the office where my mate and child thankfully had heard none of the fucked up conversation I'd just had. I was unaware Trolls and Zombies even existed. "Because you're insane and look like sparkling grapes that got run over by a Mack truck, I'm also having The Kev, Gemma and Venus help out tonight."
"The Afro American Vampyre?" Martha inquired.
I considered telling her for the umpteenth time how offensive that term was but refrained. First of all it wouldn't help. Plus, I was hoping Venus would kick their skinny, boney asses…or at least wash their mouths out with dish soap or lye. Maybe she'd remove their tongues—I wondered how long it would take a tongue to grow back. I'd have to ask Ethan later.
"Yep, that's her," I said and rolled my eyes.
"And the Fairy with his beard?" Jane asked.
"The Kev doesn't have a beard," I said as I picked up Sammy and began the short trek to his nursery.
"Your friend Gemma is his beard. He's as gay as a blade," she informed me.
"Gay as Mr. Brady from The Brady Bunch," Martha joined in.
"Homosexual as Doogie Howser."
“Faggy as “Benny and the Jets”."
"Or “Rocket Man”."
"Or Johnny Mathis."
"Oh my Uncle God," I shouted. "Shut the hell up or you have to leave. The Kev is not gay and Gemma is not a beard. He could turn you to dust with his eyes shut…so, um, go ahead and tell him what you think," I stuttered.
I was feeling only a little bad that I may get home after having at least fourteen orgasms with Ethan to learn Martha and Jane were no more.
"And what the hell has happened to you two idiots?" I demanded as I put Sammy in his exersaucer and handed him a dog bone to chew on. "You used to be rabid conservative Christians."
"We still are," Jane informed me proudly. "I'd pop Mitch McConnell's cherry so fast it would make your head spin."
I grabbed the side of the excersaucer so I didn't collapse in a fit of hysterics.
"I'm leaving," Ethan mumbled as he hightailed it out of the room. "Don't leave any blood when you kill them."
"Got it," I said.
"We've just become a little less uptight," Jane supplemented the heinous discussion we were having. "I'd do George W. in a heartbeat."
"You don't have a heart," I reminded her. "You’re a Vampyre."
"Yes, well," she agreed. "He's married to Laura and she's a babe with wonderful cantaloupes. So he's safe unless she croaks first."
"I'm getting glasses like Sarah Palin," Martha said.
Should I really leave my child with them? Probably not, but the way they were now cooing over him and making him giggle by tackling each other and making raspberry sounds with their mouths—I hoped—calmed me some.
"You two are not in charge and neither is Sammy. Whatever The Kev, Gemma or Venus says goes. Got it?"
"Yes," they grumbled.
"They'll be here in a minute and then I'm going to get laid. Can you douse fires and deal with wild animals?"
"Piece of cake," Martha bragged. "Just ask the Gnomes."
"Gnomes?" How in the Hell did I not know Gnomes were real?
"Taste like old poop and brussel sprouts," Jane said very seriously.
There was so much wrong with that statement I was speechless. Firstly, why did she know what old poop tasted like?
"What in the Sam Fucking Hill?" Martha screeched as she and Jane dropped to the floor in terror.
I ducked and smiled as a gust of delicious wind engulfed the room.
"Krumecaca," The Kev shouted as he and Gemma and Venus appeared in a blast of silver and pink glitter mist. "I am so excited to babysit my godchild!"
I turned to hug my friends and stopped short. "Really, The Kev? Really?" I was floored. He no longer looked like Arnold Schwarzenegger. Nope, he had now taken on the features of David Hasselhoff. He couldn't use his real body and face. His true beauty was blinding and it was almost impossible to look at him, but the Knight Rider? His taste was, as usual, appalling.