DISCLAIMER: This is a work of speculative fiction. (Or perhaps one should
say, speculative fact, since we all KNOW that vampires are for real, and
certain vampires are more real than others.) NO INFRINGEMENT IS INTENDED upon
the
rights of Anne Rice, Howard Allen O'Brien Rice, Kith and Kin, Random House,
Knopf, Geffen Pictures, Warner Home Video, Daniel Molloy, Louis de Pointe du
Lac, Lestat de Lioncourt, Mojo, Tom Cruise, Brad Pitt, the Brothers Grimm,
Jay
Ward Productions, the writers of the First Amendment, the Teachers of
America, and Misties everywhere. Keep writing those specs.
SPOILERS: The Vampire Chronicles, the film Interview With The Vampire
By Father of Lies (C. M. Thomas-Jones)
[EMAIL PROTECTED] (mailto:[EMAIL PROTECTED])
"Louis?"
"Hm?"
"Louis, are you awake?"
"I am now. What do you want?" Louis sat up, and switched on the lamp on the
bedside table. "What's wrong, Lestat?"
"I can't sleep."
Louis blinked a few times, tried to stifle a yawn, and failed. "So, you
can't sleep. Well, what do you expect?" He picked up the book he'd been
reading,
and carefully placed the bookmark before closing it and placing it on the
table.
Lestat hopped onto the bed beside Louis. "What do you mean?" He idly ran a
hand through Louis's hair.
"Lestat," Louis sighed, reaching up to push his hand away. "You know as well
as I do that caffeine doesn't agree with you. And quite frankly," he pushed
Lestat's hand away, again, "I think you'd be a lot happier if you'd abandon
this Friends fixation you've developed. Lisa Kudrow is not going to magically
appear at the Café du Monde."
Lestat looked at him blankly for a moment, then burst out laughing. "Louis!
You made a joke!" He leaned over and kissed Louis. "I have to call Daniel,
he'll never believe me. Where's my cell phone"
"Lestat!"
"Psyche!"
"You are a complete, total, incorrigible-"
"Flattery will get you everywhere.."
Louis threw up his hands. "Impossible. You are simply impossible. Why must
you involve me in these little mind games of yours? If you must torment
someone, why don't you just go spam Armand again?"
"I did," Lestat replied, frowning. "He didn't play fair."
"You mean, he spammed you back?"
"Well, yes. Then he threatened to give my email to those news groups again."
Louis sighed. "Lestat, is there even the remotest possibility that you will
leave me alone tonight?"
"Not a chance."
"I feared as much." Louis shook his head. "I know I'll regret this, but what
exactly do you want?"
"I told you," Lestat replied, "I can't sleep. I have insomnia."
"Lestat, vampires can't get insomnia. You'll fall asleep as soon as the sun
rises."
"Okay, then I'm bored."
"You're bored. You come in here, wake me up from a pleasant nap, to tell me
you're bored?"
"Yes."
"Go for a walk."
"If I go out, Mojo will want to go, too, and it's raining buckets." Lestat
leaned closer. "You know what happens to him when his fur gets wet."
"Go watch television, then," Louis opened the drawer in the bedside table,
and pulled out a remote control unit. "Here, you can watch it here, I'll go to
another room."
"The dish got struck by lightning once already, another hit might blow the
entire electrical system. Then we'd have to have an electrician come out, and
have another dish installed, and make arrangements for the daytime-"
"Watch a video, then. You have an entire room full of tapes and discs."
"I've seen everything."
"Read a book." Louis reached into the drawer again, and pulled out a candle
and matches. "And just in case you're afraid to use the electric lights, here
is a candle. You remember how to use a candle, don't you?"
"Louis," Lestat took the candle, and threw it on the floor. Ignoring the
baleful glare that produced, he leaned over and kissed Louis again. "Did it
ever
occur to you that I just wanted your company?"
Louis looked away, purposely avoiding looking at Lestat. "No, it didn't. Not
for a moment."
"Louis, you never were a very good liar."
"Lestat! How rude-"
Lestat made good use of Louis's indignant distraction to tackle him. Louis,
however, was not as distracted as he'd seemed, and managed to elude Lestat's
grasp long enough to jump off the bed.
"Louis! You've been practicing!"
"Not at all, Lestat," Louis said, shifting his weight from foot to foot,
preparing to bolt if necessary. "But I've discovered a very useful educational
program. It's called the WWF."
"Impressive," Lestat said, and leaped for him again.
Louis feinted, and dove out of the way. "I try."
Lestat tried again, and Louis again jumped out of the way. "Are you ready to
rummmmmmmbbbbbblllllllllle?" he howled.
Lestat sat on the floor where he'd landed, and stared. "'Are you ready to
rumble?' What on earth does that mean?"
Louis shrugged. "Let's just say, it's a mantra."
"Whatever," Lestat shook his head. "Here," he held up his hand. "The least
you can do is help me up."
Louis held out his hand, and in one smooth move, Lestat grabbed his hand,
pulled him to the floor, and rolled on top of him, pinning him to the floor.
"I win, Louis!"
"Lestat, that is hardly fair-"
"Nonsense. I saw Rosie O'Donnell do this same move on Celebrity Death Match
only last week!"
"Humph!"
Lestat leaned over, and planted a kiss on Louis's mouth. "Shut up, Louis,"
he said, kissing him again. "Now, Louis. As I was saying before, I'm bored."
"Yes, you've-" Lestat kissed him again, "-been saying that. So what do you
want me to do?"
"You give up?"
"I give up. What do you want? Within reason," he quickly added.
"I want." Lestat put his chin in his hand, and stared thoughtfully at the
ceiling.
"Yes? Dawn won't wait for you to make up your mind, you know."
"I have it." He rolled off of Louis, and lay down on the floor beside him.
"I want a bedtime story."
"What!"
"A bedtime story."
"Lestat, I don't know any stories."
"Of course you do, Louis. You told Daniel a pretty good one, once, as I
recall"
"All right! Let's not get into that again. Let me think for a moment."
Lestat reached over and began to play with Louis's hair again. "If you're
going to
do that, I can't think." Lestat scowled at him, but stopped. "That's
better." Louis shut his eyes, and was quiet for a moment.
Lestat thought that Louis might have fallen asleep, and tried to sneak his
hand up to play with his hair. Louis opened his eyes, and Lestat pretended to
be stretching.
"Very well, I think I have one," Louis said, finally.
"Good!" Lestat said, reaching an arm around Louis to pull him close. "Let's
get all snuggly-"
"Lestat, that isn't even a proper word!" Louis said, but made no attempt to
move away. "Now, let me see. Oh yes.
"Once upon a time, there was a little boy named Louis-"
"And you call me an egotist!"
"Hush. As I was saying. There was a little boy named Louis. He had a plain
face, and very ordinary eyes the color of stale bread, and dirty brown
mud-colored hair. He lived in a very ordinary, gray house in the middle of a
non-descript potato farm-"
"A non-descript potato farm?"
"Stop interrupting or I won't go on. Anyway, he lived on this farm, and
everyday he put on his brown pants and brown shirt and plain shoes and went
out
to work on the farm. Every morning he ate oatmeal for breakfast. And every
noon he ate a plain boiled potato for dinner. And every night he had a slice
of
plain bread for his supper, with a cup of water."
"My, but he leads an exciting life," Lestat commented.
"You're interrupting," Louis said.
"You paused," Lestat responded. "Please, continue."
"One night, while Louis was asleep in his plain, ordinary little bed, a
beautiful, magic prince appeared at his bedside. The prince had long, full,
gorgeous blond hair, and beautiful grayish blue eyes, and the face of an
angel. He
was dressed in a fashionable suit made of gold thread, with sapphires for
buttons, and a magic wand made of diamonds.
"'My,' said Louis, 'but you are a beautiful prince, with your gorgeous hair,
and so well dressed, too. What could you want with me?' And the prince said
to him, 'Louis, I am a magic prince. I've come to grant you three wishes.'
"Louis thought to himself, 'My, this must me my lucky night.' And he said to
the prince, 'Three wishes? Well, let me think. Hmm. For my first wish, I'd
like a new spoon to eat my oatmeal. And for my second wish, I'd like some salt
for my potato. And for my third wish, I'd like a new blanket for my bed,
since my old one is so faded, it's hardly gray anymore.'"
Louis paused for a moment. "Lestat, are you alright?" he asked solicitously.
Lestat gasped for air, and nodded. Louis continued.
"The prince looked at Louis, and said, 'That's it? I give you three wishes,
and this is all you can come up with? My, but you are certainly dull and
boring.' And the magic prince picked up Louis, and flew with him to the river,
and dropped him into the river before flying away.
"'My, but he is a very strange magic prince,' thought Louis to himself, as
he climbed out of the river. He thought that he must have dreamed the entire
thing, and put it out of his mind. 'Still,' he thought, 'I could have used a
new spoon.'
"The next night, after Louis went to bed, the magic prince appeared again.
'Louis, you are undoubtedly the most boring person I have every met. Still,
although I am a magic prince, I'm very lonely, and even your company is better
than the Nutrias. So, would you like to leave your dull boring non-descript
life, and come live with me?'
"Louis thought about this for a moment, because besides being dull and
boring, he was also fairly stupid. 'If I don't come with you, will you throw
me
into the river again?'
"'Most likely,' said the magic prince. So, Louis thought about it some more,
and finally said, 'Alright, I will come with you. I don't want to be thrown
in the river again. The river water makes my hair less mud-colored.' -
Lestat, are you sure you're not in any kind of distress?"
Lestat shook his head, and held his sides tightly. He looked about to say
something, but guffawed instead. Louis nodded, and continued.
"So, Louis went with the magic prince into the enchanted bayou. And after a
few nights of traveling through the swamps, they came to the prince's magic
castle, which was extravagantly decorated in the worst possible taste, and far
too warm for comfort. There, he gave Louis a new suit made of silver, with
emeralds for buttons, and a magic box that he could use to fly. And they
traveled all around the world, and had many adventures, but mostly they just
argued and fought.
"The end."
Lestat rolled on the floor, doubled up, with rivers of tears flowing down
his face. He laughed and laughed, and then gasped for air. A few times he
tried
to speak, but failed, and laughed all the harder. After a quarter hour of
this, he was finally able to breathe normally, and wiped his eyes on his
sleeve.
"Louis," he gasped, "You never cease to amaze me."
"As I said, Lestat, I try." He smiled, and blushed just the slightest bit.
Lestat lay back on the floor, exhausted, and still prone to fits of
giggling. Louis lay beside him for a moment, and then raised up on one elbow.
"Lestat?" he said, when it seemed that Lestat had himself under control
again. "Don't you think that we'd both be more comfortable on the bed? The
carpet
is exceptionally fine, of course, but still, it is the floor. And," he
wrinkled his nose slightly, "Mojo was in here last night after his walk."
Lestat
looked at him questioningly. "His walk in the rain?"
Lestat sniffed, and made a face. "You're right," he said, sitting up and
then rising to his feet. "The bed is much more comfortable. And," he added, as
he followed Louis climbing onto the bed, "I have a story for you, now."
"You have a story?" Louis feigned shock. "Lestat, I didn't know you had it
in you. Imagine," he lay back on the pillows, folding his hands on his
stomach, "the Vampire Lestat wants to tell a story. How bizarre. Who would
have
thought it?"
"Louis, you know, sarcasm really isn't your style, you'd be well advised to
leave it to other, petty types."
"Like you?"
"Actually, I was thinking more along the lines of Armand. But, no matter.
Now," he snaked his arm under Louis, and pulled him close once more. "Let's
get
comfortable. Are you ready?"
"Yes, I suppose so," Louis sighed. "Would it be worth my time to try to talk
you out of it?"
"Not really."
"Very well, then. Please, begin."
"Okay, here goes." Lestat cleared his throat, several times, until Louis
shot him a look. "Once upon a time, there was a little boy named Louis-"
"Oh, I've heard this one before," Louis said, dismissively.
"Hush!" Lestat put a hand over his mouth. "My story, now. You have to be
polite, and no interruptions."
"Very well."
"As I was saying. Once upon a time, there was a little boy named Louis.
Louis lived in a great huge old house, in a large overgrown garden, in the
city
of New Orleans.
"Louis was incredibly beautiful, with eyes the color of emeralds, and hair
like jet black silk, and a face of such exquisite beauty as to drive mere
mortals mad."
"Oh, come on, Lestat!"
"Shh! Now, as I said, Louis lived in a huge old mansion, which had seen
better times. In fact, it was so decrepit, it was seriously doubted that it
had
ever seen better times, and the other houses only said this so as to not hurt
the old house's feelings.
"Louis himself was not much better off, for although he was the most
beautiful creature to ever walk the planet, he was a walking fashion disaster,
and
dressed in rags. He spent most of his nights walking around New Orleans,
frightening the tourists who thought he was some sort of voodoo zombie-"
"Voodoo doesn't have anything to do with zombies, Lestat-"
"Hush. Poetic license. Anyway, when Louis wasn't frightening the tourists,
he could often be found hanging around old book stores, where he bought boxes
and boxes of dusty old books that the booksellers couldn't unload on anyone
else. Books with titles like "The Rat in History," "Lint: Friend or Foe?,"
"Great Fires of the World," and "The Complete Films of Ridley Scott."
"Lestat.."
"Louis would take these boxes of books back to the decrepit old mansion, and
would spend evening after evening reading them by the light of a candle. He
used candles rather than electric lights, because he believed electricity was
the source of all the evil in the modern world.
"Night after night, week after week, year after year, his life changed very
little. The great mansion became more and more decrepit, and the garden
became more and more overgrown. Locals believed the house to be haunted, and
this
suited Louis just fine, since it meant that he was left alone to his books.
He ventured out whenever he needed something, but mostly kept to himself.
"Eventually, the great house developed an infestation of badgers-"
"Badgers!"
"-Who, despite their verminish nature, were able to develop an entire badger
civilization within the old house. They developed badger arts, badger
painting and badger sculpture, and badger architecture, which was quite
impressive
considering they had no thumbs. They developed a vast badger literature, and
I'm told that badger theatre was something to rival Shakespeare and Moliere,
and the badger operas were even superior to Mozart himself.
"No badger Beethoven, Lestat?" Louis asked, laughing.
"Oh, yes, they had their badger romantics, and their badger modernists, and
their badger classics. But back to the story. The badgers were actually quite
good to poor old Louis. They looked after him as best they could. When his
furniture fell apart, they built him furniture out of twigs and pebbles and
leaves. They even fashioned him a desk, of sorts, and although it had five
legs, and wobbled rather a lot, and the top was uneven, it was a desk, and
they
meant well."
"Well, that makes all the difference," Louis laughed.
"One night, while Louis was sitting on his badger constructed chair in his
badger infested house, a stranger showed up at his door. At first, the badgers
wouldn't let him in, but he kept making such a fuss, eventually Louis went
to the door to see who it was.
"It was a handsome prince-"
"Lestat, have you ever heard the term 'plagiarism'?"
"The handsome prince, who was also a marquis, and came from a long line of
aristocrats, had seen Louis on his forays out into the streets of New Orleans,
and had fallen in love at first sight. He said to Louis, 'Louis, my love, my
dearest one, I have come to make your life better. I am going to take you
with me, and we will travel the world, and see many wondrous things, and have
a
hell of a time. Boredom and mediocrity can never touch you again. But, it
has to be your decision, will you come with me? It will be splendid, and you
will be happy.'
"Now, Louis thought that the handsome prince was not too shabby in the looks
department, what with his pampered yellow hair, his incredible six-foot
height, and his stunning blue-gray eyes behind his Wayfarers. The Armani suit
and
the Harley didn't hurt any, either. So, Louis thought about it for nearly
half a second, and then said, 'Sure, why not. It beats sitting here in the
dark, anyway. And besides, the badgers really need more space.' So, he went
off
with the handsome prince, and they rode the Harley to all sorts of marvelous
places where Louis had never been before. Like, Neimann-Marcus, and Barneys,
and Bambi's House-O-Leather."
"Lestat! Really!" Louis poked him in the ribs. "You know I'd never go to
Barneys."
"For the first few years, they got along wonderfully well. This was despite
the fact that the handsome prince couldn't comprehend why Louis had to read
such deep, heavy books, or why he always wanted to cut his beautiful hair, or
why he loathed to wear any clothes that were made in this decade. Still, the
handsome prince had fallen head over heels, and hoped that someday, perhaps
Louis would like him a little, too.
"But, after the first few years, things began to change. Louis began to
complain and whine about how unhappy he was. He didn't like the hotel. He
didn't
want to wear new clothes. He missed the badgers. He didn't like this constant
traveling. He didn't like staying in one place. He didn't like the cuisine.
He whined, and he whined, and after about a year of this non-stop whining,
the handsome prince didn't know what to do. He couldn't seem to make Louis
happy, and the whining was really getting out of hand. Finally, the handsome
prince just banged his head against a brick wall, in an attempt to drown out
the
sound of Louis's whining."
Now it was Louis's turn to hold his sides. He laughed, and he laughed some
more, and he slapped his knee, and then he slapped the other knee, and
eventually, he laughed so hard, he fell out of the bed and onto the floor, and
still
he laughed. Lestat began to giggle, and quickly lost control himself, and
pounded his fist on the bed until the bed frame collapsed in self defense.
This
caused both of them to laugh even harder, until both were in serious danger
of passing out from lack of oxygen.
Finally, the preternatural mirth wore itself out, and quiet descended upon
the room. Louis lay on the floor, attempting to gather his dignity, but after
a few moments, realized that it was futile. He also realized that he felt
very good. It had been far too long since he'd had so much fun. He rose to his
feet, and sat on the edge of what had been an expensive Louis XIV
reproduction.
"Lestat, I hope you're happy now," Louis said. There was no response. Lestat
lay sprawled across the silk coverlet, eyes closed, a small smile on his
lips. "Lestat?" Still no answer. Louis cocked his head, and listened to
Lestat's
breathing for a bit. He was sound asleep.
Louis smiled to himself, and shook his head. "Ah, Lestat. You never change."
He reached over and switched off the lamp. It was close enough to dawn that
he could feel it, and anyway, he was achy and exhausted enough to drop. He
lay down on the bed, careful to not disturb Lestat, who as usual took up the
lion's share - "Lioncourt's share," Louis muttered to himself.
"Good night, mon cher," Louis said, leaning over to kiss Lestat lightly on
the cheek. "Oh, and I nearly forgot." He cleared his throat, softly. "And they
all lived happily ever after. The end."
He lay back on the bed, and closed his eyes.
"But not the badgers."
"Lestat!"
"Good night, Louis."
"Good night, Lestat. And move over."
THE END
(http://www.tc.umn.edu/~pres0049/Storypage.html)
(http://ann.simplenet.com/)
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