Paranoia Will Destroy You

Funny, now that Twilight Parody Week is over, I'm having to resist the urge to post more parody. But I think we need to take a brief break so that my Fish Stick Jokeometer can recharge. It's been having problems with the battery; I might need to send it back to the manufacturer.

What? You thought I was making it all up? What kind of loony do you think I am?

Please don't answer that.

Anyway, more parody later on this week. For now, let's get on to other things. Like my general paranoia.

Every time I see the word paranoia, it makes me think of the role playing game. For you non-link-clickers out there, Paranoia is a game with very simple rules: if you show any indication that you understand the rules, the other players get to kill your character. Luckily, you've got clones. Every time we played, I ended up being the Happiness Officer, which means that I got to stuff brain-altering drugs with unknown effects down people's throats, all while singing annoying things like show tunes and Britney Spears songs. And if anyone refused my pills, I got to shoot them.

And if that's not fun, what is?

But that's not what I'm talking about here. I'm talking about your garden variety version of paranoia where random people keep parking outside your house to have lunch. You know, the kind of thing that happens to everybody. Right?

Right?

Seriously, we live on a side street not far from downtown (and when I say "downtown," I mean it in the quaint small town block with cutesy stores and lanterns instead of streetlights kind of way and not the gangstas and crack whores kind of way). It's not like we're in the middle of a bustling metropolis. But at least once a week, someone stops on the street in front of my house, turns off the car, and eats their lunch. And it's not the same person every time, either.

I wonder if this has anything to do with my practicing the Thriller dance in my front room every morning while wearing my son's Batcape and a psychedelic 70s print leotard.

Nah. Probably not.

Twilight Parody - Ward's Killer Pants

This brings us to the last day of Twilight Parody Week, but I'm not done yet. I haven't even started cracking James-jokes, so there's plenty more to go. To make matters worse, I just finished New Moon, and we all know what that means: New Moon parody. We'll get to see more of Cob doing what he does best--turning into random things that sparkle.

So anyway, I'll still be updating the Twilight parody about once a week until someone stops me. That someone might even be me.

Edition 6 - Ward's Killer Pants

The dream flickered, the fish sticks vanishing into nothingness. Ellba waved sadly in farewell; she felt a strange affinity with all things fishy, being in love with a merpire and all.

But then, she found herself in another memory, standing in the woods by a sparkling pond, Ward at her back. She knew it was him; either that or she was being stalked by a giant ice cube, and we're not talking about the rapper. She shivered and wrapped her arms against the cold emanating from his porcelain but still ochre-tinged skin.

"I know what you are," she said.

"Say it," he murmured, frosty breath caressing her ear. "I want to hear you say it out loud."

"You're always cold. You're overprotective of processed fish products. You slosh when you walk, even when it's not raining."

"Slosh slosh slosh."

"You make fish lips at me when I'm not looking."

"At least I control it better than Jas does."

"I know what you are. You're a complete freak."

Ward spun her around to face him. "You're kidding, right?"

"What, you think those fish lips are normal?"

He slid his hand over her cheek and cupped her chin. All of the breath left her body. She figured she'd better start breathing again, because she never saw Ward take a breath, and that was going to make CPR awfully tough.

Suddenly, she blinked. In slo-mo. Now it all made sense: the lack of breath, the way he never ate, the baby pool that mysteriously appeared in her room the other night.

"Are you part vampire, part fish?" she asked, taking an involuntary step back.

He nodded gravely. "I have the fins of a killer, Ellba. You don't want me."

She looked him up and down. He looked normal enough except for the faint ochre tinge to his skin and the gills. But really, it wasn't polite to point out the mutant tendencies of a guy that you were hoping to get to first base with. "Um... forgive me for asking this, but I've got to know. Exactly what parts of you are fishy?"

"Watch," he said, stepping toward the pond. He jumped into the air, leaving a pair of empty pants slouched on the ground. Before Ellba could get a glimpse of anything good, the lower half of his body shimmered, the legs merging, skin shifting into something shiny and scale-like. His feet morphed into a perfectly smooth, sparkling flipper, and he slid into the water without a splash.

"Wow," said Ellba when he surfaced. "I can't believe you jumped out of your pants like that. Do they have velcro on them or something?"

"Ellba," he growled. "You're out in the woods alone with a hungry vampiric merman who thinks you smell like meatballs, and you're worried about my pants?"

"Seriously," she said. "That was awesome. The merpire thing is neat and all, but I've never seen anyone jump out of their pants before."

"I could kill you right now. Aren't you afraid?"

"Go ahead and kill me," she said lightly, "But jump out of your pants again first."

Twilight Parody - The Gratuitous Dream Sequence

And lo, there was more Twilight parody, and it was good. (I hope.)

Episode 5: The Gratuitous Dream Sequence

Finally, frustrated with the rampant lack of lip contact going on, Ellba fell into a restless sleep. The restless part may have had something to do with the fact that she was lying half in a baby pool with her legs smothered in Saran Wrap, but probably not. She was cradled on a rock hard, ice cold merpire chest, after all, and those were ideal sleeping conditions in Ellba's world.

She dreamt.

She dreamt in excrutiating detail about the first time that she met Ward, the kind of dream that you only have when someone is writing about you and forgot to put in some of the good stuff that happened to you before and is forced to resort to a dream sequence. She dreamt about the marinara incident in Chemistry class and its aftermath:

"So how's your first day going, Ellba?" asked her new friend, Chessica, eagerly bouncing in her seat. "Meet any hot guys?"

"Um... kind of." Ellba wasn't really paying attention. She was looking for a slim figure with a gliding walk and dreamy ochre eyes. She liked the way they sparkled. It almost made up for the fact that she now smelled like garlic and had pasta sauce stuck in her hair.

"Sparkle, sparkle, sparkle," she murmured.

"Um, what?" asked Chessie, following her gaze. "Oh. Don't even bother. The Kullins don't date. At least not us mere mortals."

"I wasn't thinking about dating him."

"Of course not. You were thinking about using his ass as an end table."

Ellba rolled her eyes. Twice, for emphasis. "Whatever."

She started eating, trying not to stare at the table where the Kullins sat with untouched lunch trays. She knew their names; in a small town like Spork, everyone was in everyone else's business. Ali, Mett, and Rosa seemed pretty okay, but Jas had this strange, uncontrollable habit of making fish lips at people. It was kind of freaky.

The door opened, and there he was. He passed by their table without even a glance in her direction. Ellba sighed and took a bite of her fish stick; suddenly he was glaring at her from across the room. His ochre eyes smoldered, only not literally because that would be really creepy.

She put the fish stick down. She'd only known him for half a day, but she already knew he was the kind of guy that a girl would give up anything to be with, even processed pseudo-fish products.

Things That Make Me Snarf - Twilight Video Parody

This week's Thing That Makes Me Snarf is, of course, a Twilight parody. I think the ending is my favorite part.



I'll be writing more parody for the rest of the week, and there are things I need to know, essential pieces of information that shall help me make this Twilight parody all that it can be (without joining the Army). For example, if you were stuck in an alleyway and surrounded by a gang of violent teens, who would you want to save you? Ward, Cob, or Jesus?

Now, in other news, you may remember that I declared this the week of Twilight parody in an effort to claim the top spot on the "good ideas for a Twilight parody" Google search. And really, you ought to remember that unless the thought of being saved by Ward/Cob drives all other conscious thought from your mind. In which case you need psychological help. You are also a member of my target audience.

Anyway, after day one of Twilight Parody Week, I claimed the top spot. So now I'm looking for other ways to prove my Spooflight supremacy. (Spooflight equals Twilight plus Spoof. See how creative I am?) On Monday, I was ranked on page 21 of the regular old Twilight parody Google search. Yesterday, that ranking rocketed up to page 7.

This brings to mind burning questions that should be read aloud in a movie announcer voice: Will Carrie establish Twilight parody domination? What page rank will she be as of Friday morning? Will she ever find a %$&#ing title? Where can one find vampiric sparkle makeup? And (SPOILER ALERT) who is Melba?

Dum dum DUM.

Twilight Parody - Meatballs Are Not For Kissing

I have still failed to come up with a title for the Twilight parody, although y'all had some rocking good suggestions. Somewhere out there in the proverbial ether there is a play on words involving sparkly merpires, and I intend to find it.

Oh, and I already hit number one on the "good ideas for a Twilight parody." Awful quick, wasn't it? Either way, I've declared it the week o' Twilarity, and Twilarity we shall have.

Sparkly Twilarity, even.

You may also notice that I've got a link to past editions of the Twilight parody in the sidebar in case you've missed any. They're kind of sort of sequential. Kinda.

Edition 4: Meatballs Are Not For Kissing

Luckily, Ellba didn't have to explain the baby pool, because Harley didn't even come into the room. He always said that the vampire and guppy print wallpaper gave him nightmares.

"Sorry to wake you up, Harley," said Ellba. "I think the painkillers are making me talk in my sleep."

"But I thought I heard sloshing."

"Oh, I slosh in my sleep too. You should hear me. Slosh slosh slosh, all the time. Sometimes I slosh so loud that I can't hear myself think."

"I've noticed that." Harley backed away, closing the door behind him. "G' night."

That was one thing that Ellba liked about her father: he didn't hover. He left her alone to hang out with freaky supernatural creatures in her room in the middle of the night.

"Ward?" she said quietly.

A streak of ochre light crossed the floor, slipping into the baby pool without even rippling its sparkling surface. Then Ward smiled at her, the cockeyed kind of smile that says, "Yeah, I might be a semi-stalker, but that's okay because I am sparkly and sexy. Sparkle sparkle sparkle."

Or maybe he said that out loud. Ellba wasn't sure. The painkillers, remember?

She smiled in delight. "I'll go put on my bathing suit and swathe my injured leg in a roll of Saran Wrap to keep my bandages dry. Wait right here."

Moments later, she slipped into the pool beside him. It was tough being so close to him, the glint of the bedside lamp on his ochre scales drove her to distraction. Her pulse thumped so loud that she was sure he could hear it.

She couldn't stand it any longer.

"Kiss me," she said, tilting her chin up to his. "I'm not afraid."

"What?" he replied. "I couldn't hear you. You're sloshing too loud."

"Kiss me, damnit!"

"Ellba, you don't understand how dangerous that would be for you. I don't know if I could explain it in terms you could understand, but I'll try." He paused thoughtfully, his fin churning the water in a rhythmic, almost hypnotic pulse.

"My love," he said finally, "you smell like a meatball."

Ellba sniffed her armpit. "Really? I haven't rubbed myself with any meat products lately."

"You don't need to. It's a natural part of your being. I noticed it that first day when you walked into Chemistry class."

"Oh! So that's why you tried to pour pasta sauce on me!"

"Exactly. It's one of your most endearing characteristics. I mean, the whole klutz thing works; don't get me wrong. And the part where you're not creeped out by my stalkerish tendencies is nice. But mostly, I love you because you remind me of ground beef."

"That's so romantic, Ward. But why won't you kiss me?"

Ward sighed. "Well, I drink blood, right? Human blood. And you're human. So it would kind of be like you going out to the pasture and kissing the cow before they made it into hamburger."

"Kissing me is like kissing a cow?" Ellba wrinkled her nose. "I'm not sure I like that."

"A cute cow," replied Ward, curling his fin around her Saran Wrapped legs and pulling her closer.

"You smell so yummy," he murmured in her ear. "You don't have any pasta sauce, do you?"

Twilight Parody Week

Minor update: We have a new minivan. His name is Helsing. In my spare time, I plan to run over vampires with it.

So last week, when I was checking my visitor stats, I learned that I am second in the Google results for good ideas for a Twilight parody. You know what this means; you remember what happened when I became obsessed with my quest for Batman eyebrow domination.

I must prove my parodical superiority.

So this week shall be Twilight parody week, just so I can see what a week's full of entries on the subject will do to my standings. You know what this means: a week of hot merpire action! We may even have a wet t-shirt contest.

Now, the first thing that's got to happen is a title, because I cannot continue to call it The Twilight Parody. I've got a couple of ideas...

Merpire Lite (hmm... sounds like a beer, doesn't it?)
Twannabes
Ochre Twilight
Just Drown Her Already

Votes? Suggestions? We already know how horrid I am at titles, so give me a little help here in the name of all that is good and Twilight parodish.

The Zombie Rescue Squad

Okay. I'm beyond behind (which sounds strangely Seussian) on the whole haiku review thing, so let's get caught up on a few first.

Ink Exchange

Fairy wing tattoos
Wish listed for a long time
Totally worth it

Nature Girl

Guy gets his fingers
Attached the wrong way, even
I found it silly

A Great and Terrible Beauty

This story's moral:
Don't go to a boarding school
Unless you're a witch

Mystic and Rider

This reminds me of
A mix of Firestarter
and Lord of the Rings

Breathers: A Zombie's Lament

Mute zombie leads a
Protest by dry-erase board.
Of course he eats brains.

I finally think I'm caught up, although I got so far behind that I started to lose track of what I read. I've got a case of Reader's Alzheimers. Anyway, I'm at book 34 of the Read 50 Books in 2009 Challenge. I know some of you are doing it too: how's it going?

In other news, it looks like we're going to have a new car in the not-so-distant future, which is a good thing because mine refuses to shift gears. My zombie minivan has Alzheimers too, kinda in the same way that a lot of dogs and their owners resemble each other. Although I'm still in better shape than the girl that I saw earlier this week. She drove off the road and collided head on with an electric pole. Being the so-called wilderness rescuer that I am (I say "so-called" because I've been trained but never actually rescued anyone in the wilderness), I sprinted for the car and helped her. Imagine running into a pole and looking up to see me, waving some little cardboard cutouts at you to test your visual field:

"How many zombies do you see?"

She was okay, BTW. Because I know you'll ask.

UPDATE: A short while ago, I was a runner up in a contest on Kiersten's blog. My prize? She wrote some hilarious poetry about me. Check it out; can't stop giggling.