A/N: Vampires are generally badass--Dracula, Underworld, and Van Helsing just some examples of places where vampires pull off cool, sexy, and basically awesome. Twilight, however, completely disregards the awesomeness of vampires, and replaces their badassness with something resembling craft-store-infection (ie: glitter). This is the story of how the Daleks fix the sparkle problem infiltrating the Badass Club. It's meant to be humorous. If I offended Twilight fans, what can I say? I'm not sorry.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Daleks, and I certainly do not own Edward Cullen.

Neutralization, or

The Reason Vampires are Still in the Badass Club, or

How the Daleks Killed Edward Cullen

"WE HAVE RECEIVED ORDERS FROM THE SUPREME DALEK," a Dalek intoned. Another turned its eyestalk toward its superior and questioned, "WHAT ARE THE ORDERS?" The first Dalek told the second. If Daleks could smile, the second one would have as it sped off across the night sky to follow its orders gleefully.

In the far northwestern corner of North America, in a town for some unfathomable reason named after the most useful eating utensil since the knife, a pale, bronze-haired teenager stared moodily out the wall of windows that made up the back of his house. He might have been brooding, but then again, it could have just been his regular, everyday facial expression—one he had trouble changing. It was hard to tell with him. He looked up at the sky and sighed. People were surely panicking, what with the twenty-six planets that had suddenly appeared where there was usually darkness broken by shining stars, but he merely sighed again and furrowed his brow further.

The boy turned from the windows and sat down at his piano. He began to play a sad melody, though it was rather overplayed and thus had lost much of its poignancy. But he ignored any doubts that this piece was anything but brilliant, because he had written it for the girl he loved even though he knew he really shouldn't. He was so intent on his music that he did not see the Dalek hovering outside his window until it shattered the glass with an earsplitting crash.

"YOU ARE EDWARD CULLEN, VAMPIRE," the Dalek stated. It wasn't a question.

"Yes," the boy said, standing. "And you are dead." He launched his lithe, rock-hard body at the metal intruder, snarling. The Dalek didn't bother to sigh in exasperation, though if it were human, it probably would have.

"EXTERMINATE!" it screamed. A jet of greenish-blue energy shot out of the rather whisk-like structure attached to the middle of the Dalek's body and slammed into the flying vampire. He jerked to a halt, midair, and his skeleton was outlined fiercely in the radioactive glow of the extermination beam. He crumpled to the ground in a lifeless—er, nonlife-lifeless?—heap and the Dalek turned away, satisfied. It was proud to have saved the Supreme Dalek the embarrassment of belonging to the same club as that pansy. It flew off through the broken window, nearly humming to itself in contentment.

Edward Cullen, vampire, was not so contented. In fact, he was no longer undead. He was now dead, never to move, let alone sparkle, again. Fan girls the world over cursed the Daleks with a hatred rivaling the Doctor's, but no amount of screaming would ever bring the bronze-haired heartthrob back to life—er, unlife?—and the true, non-sparkling vampires of the world gained re-admittance to the Badass Club. The Daleks were satisfied that they had been the means by which the threat had been neutralized. And all badass creatures slept content that night, saved of the embarrassment of one of their own replacing menacing with something as completely un-badass as sparkling

I hope it wasn't too offensive, as it was meant to be funny. Thank you for reading. :)