“Does it involve fangs, skulls or coffins?” I asked.
“Nope! It involves presents for you,” Venus shrieked and then dove for the pile of bags Dixie had dropped in the corner of the room.
“For me?” I yelled and started hopping around with excitement.
“Yes,” Dixie said with a giggle. “It’s going to get so busy in the next few days we decided to combine the last fitting session with a bridal shower.”
“Wait,” Paris said, putting a halt to the excitement. “Where’s Pam? We can’t have the shower without Pam.”
“I’m here. I’m here. Pull your panties out of your asses,” Pam announced. She marched through the door with a look on her face that dared anyone to comment on the fact that her skin was an alarming shade of pale blue. “That baby boy of ours is a fucking genius. We were coming up with rhymes that rhymed with poo. So I said was feeling a little blue—because blue sounds like poo, as you all know. And next thing I knew I was sporting fucking skin the color of the sky. I look like a goddamned Smurf.”
No one moved. No one blinked an eye. No one in the room who actually had to breathe expelled any air whatsoever.
This was because no one was sure if Pam was happy about her new hue or pissed. A pissed Pam was a very scary thing. A pissed off blue Pam was anyone’s guess.
“He’ll change your skin back if you ask,” I whispered, still not moving an inch and only opening my mouth the necessary amount to be understood.
“I know that, Assbucket,” Pam told me with a cackle and a wink. “But The King finds it sexy. He’s a kinky old bastard. I told him I’d stay blue for a couple more hours, so let’s get this party started! Mamma Smurf needs to get laid!”
And on that unappetizing note and permanently scarring visual we got the party started.
“I ate an entire gallon of black raspberry chip ice cream right before I got here,” Gemma announced as she rolled her sleeve up and beckoned me over. “Time to drink up, bride-to-be!”
Gemma had a gift that we kept very quiet so she wasn’t barraged by Vamps. Whatever my BFF ate could be tasted in her blood. Sooooo, since Vamps didn’t have the ability to eat food, it was an enormous treat to be able to taste our favorite snacks by sucking back a bit of Gemma’s magical O negative.
“O, Queen of the Fairies, I bow at your dainty feet,” I said as I got on my knees and lowering my head. “Did you bring chips and hot salsa too?”
“But of course,” she said whipping out a bag from underneath the couch and plopping it into my hands.
“Oh my God, you guys really planned this out,” I said, moved by the feeling of being loved by my friends.
“Damn right, Assbutt. We can’t let our girl get married without some crotchless underpants,” Pam announced, pulling gaily-wrapped gifts from the shopping bags.
Venus rolled her eyes and laughed. “Yes, and the old blue Angel made me go in the store to get them. I haven’t been in a shop with so many humans in years, but Pam insisted that we go to the damned mall.”
“You all went to the mall?” I asked. I pulled my fangs out of Gemma’s wrist and stared at everyone in astonishment. “All of you?”
“Yep,” Raquel said as she stacked box after box in a pretty arrangement at my feet. “Ironically, none of us had any money or credit cards. Dixie did a little voodoo and we were able to get by.”
“Oh my Hell, you guys stole my crotchless panties?”
“Not exactly,” Dixie cut in quickly knowing I wouldn’t accept stolen goods. “We have a kinda, sorta, payment plan.”
“And that would be?” I asked, handing Gemma the chips and salsa, which she chowed down on with gusto.
“A mind sweep,” Dixie admitted sheepishly.
“You erased the memory of everyone at the entire mall?” I demanded, appalled. Dixie was so sweet I occasionally forgot she was the Devil’s daughter…
“Not the entire mall,” Raquel assured me. “Only the people at Prada, Gucci and La Perla.”
“We have a Prada in Kentucky?” I was flabbergasted. It almost made me forget they’d procured my gifts the same way Satan procured everything.
“Oh my God, no. We transported to Milan,” Venus explained as if that would negate the fact my bridesmaids had gone renegade.
“So that makes it okay?” I asked.
“Um, no?” Dixie asked.
“No,” I stated firmly even though I was now dying to tear into the bags.
“Fine,” she muttered dejectedly. “I’ll make sure they’re paid for with real money.
“Promise?” I asked.
“Yes, but don’t tell my dad. He was so proud of me for shoplifting.”
“I’m about to bust,” Gemma grunted as she patted her tummy and shoved her wrist toward my mouth. “The chips and salsa are served.”
“Shouldn’t you have had the chips and salsa first and the ice cream for dessert afterward?” Paris Hilton asked, pulling a large box of about one hundred rolls of toilet paper out from underneath my bed.
“Um, no. It’s my party and I like dessert first. Can I ask you a question?” I inquired politely.
“Sure,” Paris said as she deposited ten rolls on the couch next to me.
“Seeing as that we don’t have the internal facilities to go to the bathroom since our plumbing doesn’t work, why in the Hell are you handing out toilet paper and why was it under my bed?”