Author's notes: I don't think any of the actual Boktai characters will make an appearance, but in any case, this is the first of a bunch of random little comedy scribbles. You can blame my sister One for helping me first cultivate the idea, and Shadowman from the Boktai IRC chat for loving the idea to the point I decided to write something about it! And thanks to my beta-readers (you know who you are!)

Scribble One: The Tragedy of George the Lab-Ruling Immortal

It had seemed like the perfect summer job. Or at least something to fund his hobbies that was at least mildly interesting. Being a lab intern didn't sound that bad, really. Maybe he could attract chicks with his apparent wealth of knowledge. Plus Doctor Inasnum hadn't seemed like a bad guy at first. He'd only seemed a little eccentric, but otherwise mostly harmless.

If George could travel through time, he knew exactly what he would do now. Go back to that day on the beach when he'd first heard about the internship. Yes, that was what he would do if he could time-travel. Go back, meet his past self, and smack himself upside the head and tell him not to take the job.

"George! I need your assistance here! Boki-chan is refusing to come anywhere near this bottle!" The doctor's voice boomed throughout the lab. "And I need him to be splashed with the contents for my research!"

With a heavy sigh, George emerged from his bedroom and its gaudy paintings and posters of the Sun, trekking the short distance to the lab proper, every step he took emanating a sort of sullen despondency that could put the sulkiest, surliest teenager to complete and utter shame. He'd had quite a bit of time to practice his sullen routine, having been stuck working with the doctor now for over five years since that fateful day that had ruined his life forever. Not just "until death do us part" forever, but FOREVER forever. Literal forever, the kind that never ends.

You see, George was an Immortal, a member of the clan of darkness, not bound by silly concepts such as life or death. So barring some blond kid beating his ass, stuffing it in a coffin and purifying it with the Pile Driver, George had an eternity before him in which to sulk, seethe, rage silently, and generally become quite unpleasant to work with.

By any standard, George was not a particularly powerful Immortal. He was not terribly adept with dark power, he cringed at the sight of blood, and really, all he wanted from life was to chill out. He loved to go surfing, relax on the warm sand under a hot Sun, and occasionally go out clubbing to try and pick up chicks. Not activities that go well with being an Immortal vampire who gets burned by sunlight or water. He didn't want to make everything Undead, didn't know or care about the will of the Galaxy. All he needed was the simplest things, simple things that the Doctor had denied him in the name of research.

Radiating sullen loathing, George entered the lab proper, already knowing what scene would greet him. For one, Dr. Inasnum was holding a vial of some sort of fluid, the very picture of a mad scientist clad in a shiny plastic labcoat, the short man's various body piercings shining in the scarce light. Keeping well away from the Doctor was Boki-chan, the lab's pet ghoul, one of George's creations and few attempts at being a proper Immortal with Undead servants. Sadly, calling himself George, the Lab-Ruling Immortal simply failed to intimidate or impress anyone. Least of all the Doctor, who was now impatiently waiting for the vampire to order the ghoul to behave.

"Boki-chan." George addressed the ghoul, untold amounts of suffering crammed into the three syllables. "Do as the Doctor says."

The poor bok whimpered but nonetheless followed his master's orders, fearfully going over to the Doctor and shrieking when the man splashed the contents of the vial over the Undead thing.

"Well, so that's what Solar Nut extract does to the Undead." Dr. Inasnum noted, jotting down several observations as Boki-chan flailed about as though it was a mummy that had just been lit up with a fire property attack

George watched this with a certain lack of emotion. Sure, it was his servant that was being abused, but the vampire didn't care. He just wished the Doctor would make good on his promise, a hope that the Immortal was rapidly giving up on. It had been a few years ago, but George could recall events as if they had just happened. It wasn't the sort of thing you just up and forget, after all.

"So… what exactly are you researching here, Doctor?"

"Oh, this and that. Immortals and their ilk I find especially fascinating!"

That brought the new intern up short. "You… research the Undead?"

"You know it, my boy! Very fascinating field of research!" The Doctor clapped the young man on the shoulder all friendly-like. "Now, if I had an actual Immortal to study, I could really make progress with my research!"

"Uh… I don't think there are any Immortals who are going to work with a human like that."

The Doctor scoffed. "And do I know it! None of them have ever responded to my letters!"

George the Intern fell over at that piece of information. "You've MAILED Immortals about your research!"

"Well, how else is one going to get in contact with them?" The Doctor asked. The worst part was that he wasn't kidding. "But I have a plan!"

"A plan?" George found himself wondering what this plan was, and why he had such a chilling sensation, like his innards had all turned to ice.

"That's why I need an assistant, my boy!" The Doctor beamed, obviously quite pleased with his plan. "You are going to become an Immortal!"

"WHAT!" George shrieked in disbelief. "No way! I signed up as a lab assistant, not a guinea pig!"

"Calm down, calm down! You need the money, don't you?" The Doctor nailed one of George's weaknesses with all the accuracy and impact of a nuclear missile. "It wouldn't be a permanent thing, you see."

George stared. "How the heck is being Immortal not a permanent condition!"

"If I have an actual Immortal to study, I can find a way to undo the process! Just think of the possibilities! Poor victims of vampires, turned to darkness against their will… think of it! That they could be cured!"

"How much is my salary again?"

George spent a great deal of his time mentally beating himself upside the head for letting his desire to buy a fancy (and very expensive) new surfboard override his common sense. He'd had plenty of nagging doubts as to whether or not the Doctor would be able to undo his Immortality, but noooooo, he ran off to the nearest haunt that very night and chatted up a vampire. He should have listened to that Immortal's advice.

"Bob Inasnum? Yes, I have heard of him. An annoying little human." The vampire had commented disdainfully. "I do wish he would stop sending letters and being such a pest."

"Well, why don't you… uh… I dunno, do something about him?" George fidgeted anxiously in his chair, eyeing the teacup full of a red liquid that he was entirely certain he did not want to drink. The pale woman sitting opposite him sipped daintily at her drink, and scoffed.

"He will die in his own time."

"You don't want to bite him?"

It was most interesting to see an Immortal spit out a mouthful of blood in surprise. "Oh sweet darkness NO! The last thing any of us would want is for that cheerful headcase being a cheerful headcase for all eternity! If you have an ounce of brains in that mortal little head of yours, boy, you'll leave that job and forget that man's nonsense."

George swallowed hard, noting that the vampire was eying him in a manner that entirely reminded him of the way he sometimes would size up chicks at a pub. "Well, it's not the greatest job, but I do need the money, and it's tough to find a job these days, what with the end of the world approaching and all that…"

He trailed off as the vampire was suddenly sitting next to him, her cold hand stroking his hair back from his face. "Well, regardless, you will make an attractive vampire, boy."

"Uh…" George eyed the woman's fangs warily, realizing that those sharp pointy bits were entirely too close for comfort. "Is this… um… going to hurt?"

George stalked back to his room, leaving the shrieking bok and the Doctor behind. Had it hurt? He had screeched like a little girl for a full ten minutes after the lady vampire had taken her fill – and go figure, despite his best efforts, he was still a virgin, so the Immortal woman had taken no small amount of enjoyment out of drinking his blood.

When he had returned to the lab, now red-eyed, pasty, and feeling like death warmed over (a rather accurate description, really), the Doctor had drilled George for a detailed description of what the transformation had been like. That was when the Lab-Ruling Immortal first began to really, truly loathe Dr. Inasnum.

He was sorely tempted to sink his pointy fangs into the scientist's neck, but he had to agree with the lady vampire who had turned him. He didn't want that man around forever, being eternally annoying. And killing the man was right out- if George ever wanted a prayer of returning to a mortal lifestyle, his chances hinged entirely on Dr. Inasnum's research.

"Boki-chan! Stop running away! No, don't open the front door, it's still daylight!"

George winced, hearing the ghoul shriek once, followed immediately by the distinctive sound of the undead going PAMF! in the sunlight.