By: Obscurus Lupa

Fate. Funny, isn't it? I mean, it must be pretty screwed up if Ana Nicole Smith got her own television series, ABC Family remains a station, and movies like Reign of Fire were actually produced.

But I digress.

This story isn't a rant against gold diggers, "family fun" stations (my ass), and pieces of crap made only to please role playing nerds who still live in their parents' basement. No, this is much more. A tale . . . a tale that has never been told. Ever. Shut up; I'm an author; you have to believe me.

Anyway, this begins, as all tales do, with a slightly different perception of once upon a time. This is a tale so original, so depressing, so humorous, that you will feel all the emotions that God gave you.

This is a tale about Merton J. Dingle.

Okay, so maybe this is a tad cliched, but you'll read anyway! I have you lured into my bad author snare. You must read on, because it really matters. This is a tale about Merton's life, and how it was changed. The most used plot ever to hit the Big Wolf on Campus fandom: Merton's death . . . or is it?

Yes, slightly behind the "Mary-Sue" plot, this is definitely the most suspenseful and well-written storyline. Ever.

Let's begin, shall we?

Merton stalked the ebony night, the wind blowing onto his pasty face. His spikes were messed up. I thought I'd tell you this, seeing as you want a very good mental image. I'd inform you of his dandruff, case of Herpes, and his uncontrollable bowel movements, but that might be more than you'd like to know. Anyway, the lights shone, illuminating-- Oh screw it; this story is more predictable than The Crocodile Hunter: Collision Course. He was bitten by a vampire. He died. Sadness.

Tommy and Lori, like good friends, mourned the loss of their Gothic pal, crying uncharacteristically and giving heartfelt speeches that would make a grown man shit his pants laughing at. Becky discovered a bond with Merton that you'd never have seen on the show before. The directors and producers weren't dense enough to let a fishy plot like that get on screen. But you'll believe it anyway. I'm an author; I have the power.

Anyway, let's get to Merton's untimely death. It was a cold August night. It has to be cold, and it has to be night. He's a vampire.

He woke up, facing the satin lining of his coffin. But he didn't know it was his coffin. He'll find that out later in a suspenseful and depressing paragraph.

He creaked open his coffin (despite being buried under the ground) and stepped onto the muddy ground. It was cold. Really cold. So, he did what any person would do to get warm, and he viciously attacked a prep too thick to have survived long in real life anyway. After that satisfying meal, he realized the ultimate shock: Not that he was a vampire, oh no -- that was obvious to him from the beginning-- the fact that he had died a virgin.

"NO!!"

He would avenge the vampire that killed him if it was the last thing he did. But first, he needed the help of his friends. Because they were friends. And we need to move the plot along. There's also the fact that they were a team bent to stay together till the end of time, but that would be too heady for the average moron reading this excrement.

Lori and Tommy sat in the lair, mourning the loss of their Gothic friend. Because he was Gothic. Goths are cool. He was very Gothy. I mean, he had a skull in his bedroom-- I mean, lair. That's pretty damn Gothy.

Tommy stared at the object in his paws, wiping away a tear. Because he was sad. Now he was the star of the show, and everyone knows that Danny Smith was the only reason most Teenyboppers watched. Their IQ was much too low for a genius character like Tommy. The werewolf --who was a genius-- stared at the inanimate object in his hand, thoughts racing through his mind. How would he open this soda bottle? How long would it take? Would Merton's parents realize that they had raided their fridge? Would the cap come off right away?

"You know, you can never really peel all of the label off of these damn things." A beat. "I mean . . . " Tommy cleared his throat and stood up proudly. "Merton was a great friend . . . and now he's gone. Damn it, Lori, he's gone!" He broke into tears and ran away. After a moment, he returned and grabbed the soda, once again running away to howl at the moon or sniff his ass. Something that a werewolf would do; I don't know. Use your imagination.

Lori had a very deep role to this plot at one time. I have no idea when that was, so let's just have her cry or nod her head or make some sort of action. You know, because she exists.

Merton opened the door to his lair, finding Becky making out with some freshman on his couch. "Becky, what are you doing?" Becky turned around. Merton sighed with relief. It wasn't Becky; it was a harmless transvestite hooker that had stumbled into his home. Because it was Gothic.

But wait. The tale of the hooker did not end here. That was no ordinary transvestite hooker. That was . . . THE VAMPIRE WHO BIT HIM!! "My name is Merton Jeremiah-Smith Dingle, which is Welsh," a proud smile, "you killed my chance at ending my virginity. Prepare to die." But wait. There's more (Bet you didn't see that coming, did you?). The guy he/she was making out with was none other than . . . TOMMY! Oh no . . . What's this? It's not Tommy at all! It's his evil twin! "Jose? I thought we killed you!"

"Ha ha! You will forever be a virgin!"

"But why, Jose?" Merton pleaded, teary eyed, "Why torture me so?"

"Because . . . " Jose began to cry as well. "You cut off my--"

The door flew open most conveniently, and Tommy and Lori ran inside. "Tommy, when did you get an evil twin?" Lori asked, crying. Because he's evil.

"It was right after I came out of that coma," Tommy explained casually, "You know, I was in an accident while I was in a jealous rage after catching you making out with Merton's sister. You know, because I'm a homophobe."

"Oh yeah."

In the middle of all this, Merton had staked the vampire who bit him. Because he's a Goth. Gothic people have power. It's a law, you know. Goths are damn fine.

It wasn't over. HA! BOOJA!

No, they still had to get rid of Jose. So, they did a reasonable thing by chopping off his hands, feet, and then stringing him above a pit of acid so he can return in some mutilated form in later episodes, even though it's impossible for him to survive. Now, the ultimate ending -- suspenseful at that-- came about: Merton died alone (HA! Fooled ye', didn't I? Bet you thought he'd get laid, right? WRONG! Get real. rolls eyes).

THE END