"You Sick, Sick Monkeys!", an FK fanfiction parody by Cousin Mary

You Sick, Sick Monkeys!
a letter from Tracy Vetter
a Forever Knight parody
by Cousin Mary
© June 2004

Disclaimers: Usual disclaimers involving no money and a complete lack of suing.

Notes: This went over huge on the Dark Perk list, so maybe some of you will like it, too. :-)

Teaser: Everyone likes a good romance story, but ...

Hello, Tracy Vetter here. And all I can say is . . . What the heck is wrong with you?! I was just minding my own business when I happened across these pages of, of, well, sickness. You sick, sick monkeys!

Now, there seem to be plenty of well-thought-out, well-written stories involving my life, but what I’m upset -- no, furious -- about is some writers' need to pair me up with everything in pants! Hello, I may have shown a small interest in Vachon when I first met him, but can someone, for the love of God, explain to me you people’s need to put me with anything male (and a few that aren’t even that?) ?!

Let’s get this sick rollercoaster started with the one that scares me the most. You freaks of the CERK Perk. Me and Lucien Lacroix?! What -- why -- HOW?! I mean, come on, he’s evil. Not just kind-of-evil, not just "I take more than one free sample at the store" evil, not even "I’m Vachon: I pay no taxes and follow anything blonde" evil. No, he's evil as in "I like to kill things and then kill more things later." Why on Earth would any of you freaks think a homicide detective and a serial killer would be a good match?! Huh?

And then there’s Nick. Nick Knight, a man who uses even more flowery-fruity scented, expensive hair products than my mother -- my mother, the queen of mousse. And I don’t think he’s ever had that Caddy’s emissions tested. I mean, I know he’s going to live forever and all, so you’d think he’d care about the environment just a little, huh?

And Screed. I can’t even begin to fathom why anyone in her right mind -- or even someone not so much with the sanity -- would even think to set me up with a, what, 400-year-old sailor who drinks rat’s blood and whose idea of personal hygiene is to hose down at the all night car wash once a week!

Even Vachon, who -- so what, I looked at him; he’s cute. But he’s also a vampire. He drinks blood. He likes anything blonde. Any blonde, as in "I caught him looking at my blonde mother." I’m sorry, a guy looks at your mother and it’s over. I still can’t get the image out of my head. Vachon checked out my mom. Eww.

Then things start to get even weirder. Some of you sick monkeys have put me with Miklos, whom I’ve never met. A vampire bartender . . . Really, what are you thinking?! Is it the leather pants? I mean, I get the attraction, but, again, VAMPIRE. And not just a vampire, but a vampire about whom no one knows anything. Does he hunt? Does he kill? Is he even straight?! Come on people, you can’t just throw a girl out on a blind date without considering the fact that he might have a life-sized cardboard cut-out of Antonio Banderas in his kitchen . . . and I hear he does!

Then there’s Natalie Lambert. When has Nat ever looked at anyone who wasn’t able to write his name in the snow? Really, from what I hear, that’s one of her favorite jokes: “Sure he can write his name in the snow, but it’s penmanship that counts.” I don't even know what that means! But I’m pretty sure it means she likes the boys! Sure, she’s human, and that’s a point in her favor, really. But she’s a woman who doesn’t particularly like me, who cuts up dead people, and who lusts after Nick Knight like he’s the last candy bar in the vending machine. All of that doesn’t add up to a night of girl-on-girl action, does it?

Finally, there’s an assortment of enforcers, drifters, rookie cops and pretty much any coffee drinker that I’m paired up with on any given occasion. And yes, I realize everyone likes a good romance story . . . but please, for the love of God, put warnings on these fics so I don’t start reading and accidentally discover myself in a torrid love triangle with Lacroix and Nick, while pregnant with Miklos’s illegitimate child, and carrying on an even more torrid affair with Nat and Screed . . . at least, not until I’ve had my morning coffee!