Written by Falconempress. Posted on Jul 14, 12:26 PM.

"You Slay Me" Spork - Chapter 20

Before we start this, I want to apologize to everybody and set a few things straight – I said in the last spork that this is the last chapter, which is not entirely true. There is still an epilogue after this. So I hope you can forgive me for decieving you in such a vicious manner.

With that out of the way, let’s dig in, shall we? To the Epic Showdown of Epic!

It is the night of the Challenge and Assling and team arrive at the G&T. Why is the fight to the death taking place there escapes me, I assumed that G&T was neutral ground, so much so that not a single soul was allowed to glare at Assling when she was a murder suspect. But I guess they are going to make an exception just for her. It wouldn’t surprise me in the slightest. And OF COURSE there are crowds lining the streets in all directions, eeeeeverybody starts whispering when Assling appears and the crowd parts for her and her posse. Rene even brought a gun. What the fuck? Oh but I guess Assling is so absolutely wonderful, he would be more than willing to risk an arrest and getting into trouble with the police for a woman he barely knows. And it still escapes me how is she paying him when she should be long out of money by now and begging for scraps of food on the streets.

“I still do not understand how it is the man Drake is really a dragon,” Rene complained. We had filled him in on everything, and much to my surprise, he had been amazingly accepting of ideas I was still coming to grips with.

headdesk

That – I… you know what? I am not going to say anything. You make up your own commentary. I’m just going to drink myself into numbness and blissful obliviousness.

digs out a bottle of cheap booze and takes a swig

Something is telling me this is going to be a looooong chapter.

“I am confident,” I said softly to myself as I slipped a hand into my pants pocket to touch the Eye of Lucifer I had placed there earlier. “I am a professional. I have power. I can do this.”

Oh would you just shut the FUCK up with the “I am a Professional” nonsense. Just shut your mouth, put your pen aside and go screw yourself in the deepest pit of hell, MacAlister, you fucking MORON. When Assling did this monologue routine for the first time, it was funny. Unintenionally so, but it still got a derisive snort from me. The second time she did this it was dull, the third time stupid, the fourth time annoying. Guess what it is now.

“Talking to yourself is a sign of mental instability,” Jim said helpfully.

You too – zip it! This book put me in such a foul mood I am not even going to remark on how even the fucking dog calls Assling batshit.

drinks

At this rate, I’m gonna need another bottle pretty soon.

They try to get in, but there is a ward against demons – for obvious security and safety reasons. Assling gets through, but Jim can’t. She tries to drag him over, but that only causes him pain – GOOD. I HAVE BEEN WAITING TO SEE HIM SUFFER FOR SUCH A LONG TIME. SUFFER, DOG, SUFFEEEEEERRRRR.

But good things don’t last.

Assling gets mad that she is not allowed to bring her demon doggie into the club – waah waah – and since she’s above all rules, laws and common sense, she takes out her Deus Ex Machina silver Tool of Bael thingy and by using that and Drake’s fire – I shit you not – she blows the ward up and they go in:

I pulled the Eye out from my pocket, held it so it faced the door, and mentally envisioned a crack in the ward. The lodestone grew hot in my hand, drawing an answering heat from deep within me—Drake’s fire, the fire that never entirely left me. I let the two blazes join together into one conflagration, then directed it toward the ward at the same time I shoved Jim through. There was a crack like thunder; then we were inside.

So much for “we are not at all connected, nah – uh” you keep sputtering out at all occassions except for when it’s convenient. And how did she know what exactly to do in the first place? How did she know that was going to work? Explain, MacAlister, explain!

I hate this book so very, very, very, very, very, very much right now.

Oh, but look – she at least used the word “conflagration” correctly. Huzza good widdle writer? You want candy? Widdle writer wants candy? WELL YOU CAN’T HAVE ANY!

Amelie stared at me in horror. “Aisling … you should not… you should not have been able to do that! The ward, it was most strongly drawn!”

Do you know what moderation is, MacAlister? Do you even know what the word means? THEN LOOK IT UP IN A DICTIONARY! NO CANDY! BAD WRITER! BAD!

The crowd outside the door went absolutely dead silent at her words. Every hair on my head stood on end at the look people were giving me. I imagined it was the same sort of look the guys running the witch trials gave the convicted.

Aaand of course she has everybody shitting bricks at her awesome display of the powers she has no idea she had until recently. The only way this could improve by now would be if they really tied her to a stake and burned her alive, with the screams flying high over the streets of Paris, the sound of sizzling flesh like poetry to the ears, the smell of burning meat, bone and sinew sweet in the evening air. And the woman, screaming at the top of her slowly scorching lungs, shrieking, struggling in the last feeble attempt to save her pathetic, worthless life – that image forever emblazoned on the backs of hundreds of skulls, stored to become a loved, cherished memory. And still she suffers, her cries only inviting more fire in, burning, consuming what lies in its path until only she croaks as her very skin boils and peels away from the muscle…

Sorry. Got a bit daydreaming there. Where were we?

“Just warming up, folks,” I said with a weak smile, trying to diffuse the situation.

Excuse me for a second.

screams

sounds of things breaking

glass shattering

more screams

the reviewer looks around

Yup, that’s pretty much everything. Thanks to this book, there is not a single thing in my place that I didn’t break or otherwise destroy. Oh, except for the pills and booze. I still have my pills and my booze.

At one end Drake stood with Pal and Istvan. All three were wearing knee-length dark green silk tunics and black leggings, Drake’s tunic embroidered with an intricate gold-and-black dragon on the chest.

AHAHAHAHA! That is the gayest outfit I have ever encountered anywhere in my whole entire life! And that’s counting Alan the transvestite from down the hall. Aha, hahaha.

Oh, if I still had those pesky tear ducts, I would be crying with laughter right now. AND SHUT UP LC MY CREEPY GERMAN DOCTOR CAN TOTALLY PWN YOURS! SO SHUT YOUR FACE – MOUUUUTH!

Drake smelled the air, his eyes glittering black with anticipation. I knew without him even saying it that he was aware I had more than just the talisman with me, proving my suspicion that the talisman had indeed done well to hide the presence of the Eye.

What?! Are you for real? You just flashed your fancy little Deus Ex Machina for a million people to see when you preformed your fancy fireworks and you are still worried about keeping it hidden? Are you high? Here’s a hint – I think some of them may be suspecting something. Also, why does he only smell/realize the presence of the Deus Ex Machina Tool just now? It is not like she has been carrying it around in her bra this whole time or anything. OH WAIT IT IS.

I HATE THIS BOOK I HATE THIS BOOK I HATE IT SO VERY MUUUUCH

So they formally greet each other and introduce their seconds – Drake has Pal and Istvan, while Assling has Amelie and Rene, since Jim is a demon and the rules say that demons in these duels are a big no – no.

Then why was it so important that he got in here? Oh, right, to demostrate the L33T skillz Assling now has, how silly of me to not to figure this out straight away.

In case you are wondering – no, there are absolutely no repercussions for Assling destroying the club’s anti – demon security device. Nobody says anything, it is never mentioned again. Because it was her who broke the rules, so that makes it okay.

And Rene agrees to the whole thing even though he, in his own words “does not understand” what is going on, which would make any contract or any declaration he made completely null and void, but oh well. Does this guy have a death wish or what?

I swore one corner of Drake’s mouth twitched as he inclined his head toward me. “You are the challenger, Guardian; by what means will you meet me body to body to prove your superiority and claim control of the green dragon sept?”

“Body to body”. Does it sound retarded? Yes. Do I care? Hmmm…nope. Not anymore.

Anyways.

Rene came forward at my gesture, holding out a dark blue canvas bag. I pulled out a round sisal and metal object, holding it up to show him, turning so the crowd could see it as well. “I, Aisling Grey, challenge you, Drake Vireo, to a game of darts’ Winner takes all.”

Oh.

Oooooh.

But you know what? Come to think of it – however absurd this may sound, it’s actually a pretty clever move. This way nobody gets killed and it is obvious that the real killer has manipulated the two of them into fighting, so Assling is just not playing into the killer’s hand. I guess I can swallow this. Along with some more booze and that blue liquid that people use to clean windows.

Drake is not amused by this, however, he storms towards her and they argue, but he eventually says it’s okay. During the whole conversation Assling wonders at different parts of his physique and thinks about how she wants to get down and dirty with him and this is so idiotic I wish I could express my annoyance, but I simply can’t, so I’m just going to bash my head against my desk some more. Feel free to correct me, but I think it was Galenos, an ancient Greek doctor, who tried to explain a female behavior by his “moving uterus” theory. He proposed that women are so moody and silly because their uterus moves around inside their bodies. When it shoots up all the way to their heads, they go into hysterics and/or full female hard – on mode. While these theories may seem adorably ignorant or horribly misogynistic to a modern reader, I think that when it comes to Assling, I can safely say that yes, bitch has a moving uterus and most of the time it is right where her bloody brain is supposed to be.

Drake rolled his eyes, then grabbed me and hauled me up to his chest in the best arrogant, domineering wyvern manner. “You are impossible,” he muttered just before his mouth descended upon mine, his tongue immediately invading, stroking the fires that burned so deep within me. Before I could do more than think about responding, he was gone. It took a moment for me to realize that the dull roar I heard wasn’t just my blood pounding in my ears—everyone in the club was laughing and applauding.

I don’t think I can do this anymore. If you excuse me, I need to go and make myself a bleach ’n ’ booze cocktail. With an umbrella. Be right back.

Assling loses pathetically and she is so clumsy at this game she nearly castrates Istvan with a dart – ha – ha. I’ve been at funerals where I had more fun than when reading this. It is declared that the green dragon sept will come up with a punishment for Assling when they next meet, Istvan smirks vengefully at that, to which Assling notes that if she ever becomes Drake’s mate in truth, Istvan will be the first to go. Because we can’t have people around who don’t like our precious widdle Assling, now can we? No. The ruler of the universe is not pleased with Istvan being mad that she nearly castrated him with what is essentially a needle with wings. Not at all pleased with the fact that he dares have a different than “I want to jump your bones so badly right now” reaction to her.

Suddenly somebody yells that Assling is a liar and a murderer. This is our killer. Who is it, my pretties? Who can it possibly be?

It’s Perdita.

DUN DUN DUUUUUN

Oh yes wai.

Perdita laughed and spun around with her arms up, showing everyone how healthy she was.

“Me? It was I who was drugged and made to look as if I had been murdered, but I am quite well, as you all can see. Your little plan to pin the murders on my servant Ophelia have failed. Now everyone will hear the truth of how you killed the Venediger and Aurora Deauxville in your attempt to serve your master Bael. Everyone in the Other-world will know how you intend to rule them by wielding the Tools of Bael.”

I gawked. There was just no other word for it: I gawked at her. “You what? Ophelia was your servant? You said she was your sister!”

Perdita laughed again. “Everyone here knows Ophelia is my doppelganger, my servant to summon when I so desire.” She appealed to the crowd. “Is that not so?”

Every single blasted head in the crowd nodded. “Well, poop!” I said

I actually thought they were going to pull a twin – switching act. I guess this book is not completely as dumb as it could have been.

Perdita accuses Assling of being a murderer in front of everybody, claiming that she is a “servant of Bael”, Assling denies it and says she can prove it by summoning the Big Bad because she has one of the Tools and she is just generally awesome like that. Perdita shrieks in her anger and the following clusterfuck ensues:

Perdita screamed and lunged at me. Bafamal appeared out of nowhere in another of its shiny suits. Jim woofed as it threw itself forward, heading for Bafamal. I slashed the darts into Perdita’s arm as she grabbed me, trying to twist with the motion of her body so I could throw her to the ground. We both fell as Ophelia shimmered into view, called by Perdita. The crowd surged forward around us as I struggled to keep the lodestone safe in my hand at the same time I tried to disable Perdita. Ophelia shrieked and grabbed my hair, making my eyes burn hot with tears. I kicked out at her at the same time I punched Perdita on the jaw. She wrenched my arm up, biting my fist in an attempt to get me to release the Eye. Behind us, Jim and Bafamal were locked in battle, each snarling and spitting curses.

Rene pulled out his gun and aimed it over his head, firing a few shots into the ceiling as he yelled, “Stop! I have a gun!”

Yeah, because guns have proven so useful against demons time and time again.

The heavy lighting fixture above him fell, knocking him to the ground.

What? He shoots up and…what? The light falls on him? Is that all? Is that the entire purpose of having Rene in this club, at this time? So that he can pull the most overused, unfunny stunt that was old and unfunny by the time it was invented?

That’s um… wow. I think you overdid yourself in stupidity there, MacAlister. I thought it was impossible.

But Empress, you must be asking, this is the climax of the book. The main character, a very powerful magic user with the ability to channel a dragon’s fire and with one of the most powerful magical artefacts in her posession is pitted against another very powerful magic user and her servants. This is the final fight. The greatest moment. How is this epic clash going to unravel?

I’m going to tell you how.

In a catfight.

The air was thick with cries and shouts of encouragement as Perdita and Ophelia and I rolled around in the catfight to end all catfights.

Oh yeah. Two incredibly poweful magic users, and how do they settle their conflict? By biting, scratching, kicking and pulling on each others hair. Like this:

This book has a catfight as its final battle.

THIS BOOK HAS A CATFIGHT AS ITS FINAL BATTLE.

I want you to let that sink in and think about it for a moment, while I go and swallow down all of the pills left in this package. Then chase them down with some paint thinner.

And what does Drake do? He just watches and even seems amused at what is going on. Oh, but not just that, oh no:

“Aren’t you going to do something to help me?” I yelled at Drake as I head-butted Ophelia into releasing my hair. Perdita kicked at my knee. I socked her in the stomach. Ophelia threw herself on my back, screaming blue murder in my ear.

Drake tipped his head to the side as we rolled around at his feet. “What will you give me to help you?”

He doesn’t even bat an eyelash. He does not engage himself into helping his One and Only True mate, who is connected to him with her very life. He will die if she does. And yet he does nothing, he does not move, he just stands there and watches, probably wondering whether he should call for somebody to order some jello stat. One of the explanations for why this is so could be that he does not consider this dangerous enough. By not acting, not even when she asks him to, he shows that he thinks this dispute petty – there is no real threat of Assling getting harmed, so he is not nervous at all. It’s just some chicks fighting each other – chicks do that over things like shoes and dresses all the time, right? With their pillows? And only in their underwear?

“Oh, silly women and their silly fights over the dominance over the mortal world, haha, it’s so great to have a cock.”

“Oh look, the truck with the mud is here, very well, dump it right here.”

What this does, is take all the tension away from this scene in a snap. There is no real danger, no real possibility of Assling suffering more than just a few bruises and scratches. The entire scene falls completely flat on its ass – PUN FUCKING INTENDED. If it was supposed to be funny – well, congratulations, MacAlister, your license for a sense of humor has oficially been revoked. Because I sure as hell am not amused. What I am, however, is in need of some more of those brain bleach/hard alcohol cocktails. And some more paint thinner.

Where is my paint thinner? I am thirsty!

And on top of that, he asks her what she is willing to give him if he, her One True Mate helped her.

So Assling manages to get herself free of the twins who are not really twins, takes out her Deus Ex Machina Tool thingy and proceeds to summon the Big Bad. This scares Perdita so much, she confesses to everything and crumbles down in hysterics. I guess her uterus shot up into her head as well. Assling then goes to yell at Drake for being an insufferable douchebag:

I walked over to Drake and stomped on his foot. Hard. “What will I give you to help me? What will I give you?”

He stood on one leg rubbing his foot, grinning a grin so steamy, it almost melted my underwear.

Aw, come ON. Even when you are angry at him, you can’t keep it in your pants? The farmaceutic companies should drain all your blood and sell it as female aphrodisiac! „Why bother with Rohypnol when after you dose your object of desire with Ass – hard, she cannot claim the sex was not consetual because she would be too busy creaming herself over you! Become so irresistible to women they will not be able to think NOW!“

“I never doubted you would defeat her. You are my mate. You could do no less.”

I pointed a finger at him. “You are too arrogant for your own good. I officially de-mate you. Go away. I never want to see you again. Except maybe tonight. Naked. Your place. But after that, no more.”

headdesk

It looks like Perdita somehow after her confession managed to get a hold of this book and read it in its entirety, because she has gone nuts. Literally. Perdita has gone crazy, she just sits on the ground and rocks back and forth, talking to herself. Assling actually feels bad about it, but we can’t have her perfect little ending ruined by things like bad conscience or feeling guilty over breaking somebody’s mind, so Drake takes care of that:

“You are not responsible for her madness. She walked that path long before you came. Is it not the work of a madman to kill for gain?”

“Yes, but… but I scared her by summoning Bael.”

“She sold herself to Bael in exchange for power. She made the decision to do so, not you. The price she pays now for that choice has nothing to do with you.”

Hey kids, squirming your way out of feeling responsible is FUNNNN!

But wait a second. Earlier on Ophelia said that Perdita was a very strong candidate for the position of a Venediger. She also said that who gets the chair is decided in a fight. And Assling just beat her. Uh – oh, I feel hilaaaarious hijinks coming!

Amelie smiled a sad smile. “You have defeated the one who would be Venediger. By rights, that makes you—”

cue obnoxious punk rock trailer music

“Assling Grey was a -”

“No!” I yelled, dropping Drake’s hand and backing away from them. “It’s bad enough I’m a Guardian and a wyvern’s ex-mate, and a demon lord. I’m not going to be a Venediger, as well! Jim, I command you, clear me a path! We’re getting out of here before anything else happens!”

Ah – hah – hah, that Assling! Always getting herself into trouble.

I hope MacAlister enjoyed all the weed she has smoked in order to think this was even remotely funny.

End chapter. Epilogue next. And then this will be DONE IT WILL BE OVER OH GOD IT WILL BE OVER IT WILL BE DONE.

Thank you for reading,

falconempress

Tagged as Falconempress, Paranormal Romance, Spork, You Slay Me.

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