"Why are you running away from me, Mark?" Damien asked his frightened cousin.
"I know who you are." Mark answered in a quivering voice.
"You do?" Damien asked in a tone of mock-surprise.
"Dr. Warren knows," Mark said, talking slightly faster as his nervousness grew. "I overheard him talking to Dad."
"Well, what did he say?"
"He said that…the Devil could create his image on earth," Mark stuttered.
"The Devil?" Damien said, still with the mock-surprise tone. "Well, what else did he say?"
Mark didn't answer, slowly shaking his head, likely not wanting to say the words Damien knew were in his head. Damien thought that perhaps he'd been struck speechless with the enormousness of the secret that he knew. But still, he wanted the confession, the confrontation, the accusing words of his cousin. The secret of his true nature laid out on the table. So he decided to prod Mark along, and abandoned his act.
"Say it, Mark."
"He…didn't say who you were outright, but I know what you are. I know what you are!" Mark said, his voice becoming quicker and shriller.
"Then say it, Mark." Damien repeated, more forcefully this time.
Mark remained silent, afraid of answering.
"Say it. Out loud. Say it."
Mark hesitated, then gathered his wits and yelled loudly, "VAMPIRE!"
"Yes, Mark, I am the Devil's so- Wait, WHAT?" Damien screeched, the dramatic speech he had spent the previous night preparing blown to hell by Mark's complete misinterpretation of his information.
"Vampire! Vampire!" Mark yelped again and again, pointing at Damien and hopping excitedly in place. "Vampire!"
"What the hell!" Damien shouted. "A vampire? What are you talking about?"
"I've seen what you can do!" Mark cried. "You're impossibly fast, and strong!"
"What? Wait, Mark…you swore we'd never speak of that thing with me and the ducklings ever again!" Oh, Lucifer, the horror if THAT secret was ever to be revealed…
"Your skin is pale white and ice cold!"
"Well, excuse me for being unable to ever tan right! And it's winter, Mark; of course my skin is cold!"
"Your eyes are really pretty! Plus they change color."
"What? Mark, are you feeling all right…?" Damien inquired, momentarily unsure of his cousin's current stability. "You're not sniffing markers again, are you?"
"Sometimes you speak like…you're from a different time!"
"No, I don't! And that time I talked like Bugs Bunny for three weeks doesn't count!"
"You never eat or drink anything!"
"Please don't tell me you're confusing me with that supermodel you have dirty thoughts about."
"You don't go out in the sunlight!"
"Erm...you do realize we're standing in the sunlight right now?"
"How old are you?" Mark demanded.
"Uh, thirteen? Really, Mark, we've lived together for seven years, I think by now you'd know how old I am – "
"How long have you been thirteen?"
"About five months, you know that!"
"I know what you are!"
"Of course you do…" Damien humored him, exasperated. This was not the way he had thought things would go with Mark at all. "I'm a vampire. Woo-hoo."
"Not just a vampire!" Mark said excitedly. "A vampire from Twilight!"
"WHAT!" Damien cried. "It's bad enough you think I'm a vampire, but a Twilight vampire? Must you degrade me like this, Mark? Your own cousin?"
Suddenly, Mark stopped short in his hyper movements. He looked to be thinking about something for a moment, before he spoke, in a normal, calm voice.
"You know what, I've just realized something."
"Dare I ask what?"
"You're not a vampire at all!" Mark exclaimed.
"Yes! Finally you realize what I truly am!" Damien said jubilantly. "You know now that I am the Antichri-"
"You're a fairy!"
"-destined to rise and – Wait, WHAT! Oh, COME ON!" Damien shouted, slapping his forehead in frustration. "How the hell can you think I'm a freaking fairy?"
"Well, it's really obvious, once you think about it!" said Mark happily.
"The problem with that, Mark, it that you apparently can't think."
"All Twilight vampires are actually fairies!" Mark said, oblivious to Damien's sarcastic remark. "You're nice, you don't eat people, you live in the woods, you flit around in the trees, and you sparkle! You're not vampires, you're fairies!"
Damien was struck speechless, amazed and stunned by his cousin's stupidity, but also at the surprising truth there was to his words.
"Hey, Damien, guess what!" Mark said, beginning to resume hopping up and down in excitement.
"You're going to be king of Pride Rock. Oh, goody."
"No, silly!" Mark said, running out a few yards to more open ground, and striking a performer's pose. "I'm gonna sing the Cullen song now!"
"The what song?" Damien said, confused and bracing himself.
"The Cullen Song! It's like the llama song, only with Cullens!" Mark explained. "It goes like this…"
Mark began to do a really strange and hyper dance that looked like a combination of breakdancing, disco, jazz dance, and that dance with the crossed arms and eye-high kicks; and then he sang, extremely fast and high-pitched. "Here's a Cullen, there's a Cullen, and another little Cullen! Fuzzy Cullen, funny Cullen, Cullen, Cullen, truck!"
Damien just stared open-mouthed at Mark, unable to comprehend what he was seeing.
"Cullen, Cullen, werewolf, Cullen, grizzly, human, piano, Cullen, Cullen, Cullen, bracelet, Cullen, Cullen, Cullen, truck!"
I can't even keep up with him… Damien thought, and the thought pulled him up short. Whoa. That didn't sound right.
"I was once a Volvo, Cedward baked a cake! But I never saw the way the Bella kissed the Jake! I was only just undead, Alice told a tale! And now listen, Bella dear, Jacob wags his tail!"
"You're on Team Jacob, aren't you?" Damien said, his diehard-Team-Rosalie feathers ruffled by the perpetual opposition.
"Actually, no," Mark said, surprising Damien yet again. "I'm on Team LLAMA!"
"Did you ever see a Cullen? Kiss a Cullen, on the Cullen? Cullens Cullen tastes of Cullen. Cullen, Cullen, truck!"
"Um…no, unfortunately," Damien said, trying unsuccessfully to suppress his Damien/Rosalie fanboy fantasies.
"Half a Cullen, twice a Cullen, not a Cullen, Newton, Cullen, Cullen in a car, alarm a Cullen, truck!"
The song was really getting on Damien's nerves, and he was beginning to get angry that his dramatic speech about his pride in being the Devil's son had turned into this completely ridiculous fiasco by his cousin's unbelievable idiocy and ludicrous song and dance.
"Is this how it's told now? Aro is so old! Is it made of venom juice? Sparkle, marble, cold!"
"Mark…" Damien muttered warningly. This was really getting him angry, and he intended to do something about it.
"Alice likes to spend the cash! Jacob's out of luck! And in the final chapter, he imprints on a duck!"
What? Last time I checked, Renesmee wasn't a duck! And my patience and my sanity have officially gone the way of the dinosaurs!
"All right, that's it, Mark!" Damien shouted, and Mark's dance slowed but didn't stop yet. "I've had it with your moronic-ness!"
"So do you want me to sing about something else?" Mark said, misunderstanding completely. "Oh, I know! I could sing the Duck Song!" And he began to sing, "A duck walked up to a lemonade stand -"
"What? No, I don't want you to sing the – OKAY, YOU KNOW WHAT!" Damien roared in fury. "YOU WANT STUPID, POINTLESS, RIDICULOUS MUSIC! I'LL GIVE YOU STUPID FREAKING MUSIC!"
Damien's stormy dark eyes focused on Mark's chocolate-brown ones. After a moment or so of eye contact, Mark ceased his activity and clasped his hands to his head in extreme pain.
He screamed in agony as the music of hell played in his head. But no, hell's music was far better than that, because Ave Satani is one of the best horror movie themes ever and Jerry Goldsmith won an Oscar for it too. The terrible-sounding, autotuned to the point of being robotic, way too catchy, painfully annoying song booming in Mark's head was so Satan-awful, it was literally torturing him to death.
"It's Friiiiiiday, Friiiiiiday, gotta get down on Fri-daaaaaay…."
"AAAAAAAAAAAGRGH!" Mark howled, stumbling around in his blinding pain, and clutching his head as though trying to squeeze the music out. "I'M GOING DEAF! EARDRUMS BLOWING OUT! MAKE IT STOP MAKE IT STOP MAKE IT STOP MAKE IT STOOOOOOOOOOP!"
"Everybody's looking forward to the weekend, weekend! Friday, Friday!"
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!" Mark let out one last scream of pain, and then fell to the ground, dead.
Damien stared at his cousin's unmoving body. He hadn't thought the song could be so bad it would do that much damage to Mark!
"Unholy crap!" he exclaimed. "That song really can deafen and kill people!"
Shocked and a bit frightened by the idea that a truly horrible song had the power to kill people if blasted way too loudly in their brains and the fact that he had unwittingly killed Mark with it, Damien threw back his head and screamed so loudly the furry woodland creatures of the forest ran for cover.
But one squirrel paused in flight to look at Damien and notice something interesting.
Huh, look at that, the squirrel thought to himself. It appears the invulnerable Antichrist has fillings in his teeth.
My question, thought the squirrel's wife through telepathic animal communication, is why are you looking that hard in the first place?
Mark: I don't believe it. You killed me with pop music?
Mark: Well, I don't care how bad the song is, it couldn't hurt you!
Kaen: Really. We were done with our work early in science class one Friday, and at the request of the class, our teacher put on 'Friday.' Reluctantly, might I add. She thinks it's one of the worst songs in the world and I completely agree.
Mark: So, what?
Kaen: Our teacher got sick over the weekend and was out for like half the week. When she got back, she joked that the doctors said it was definitely listening to Friday that made her sick. True story!
Mark: Well, it was just that, a joke.
Kaen: Maybe, maybe not. I've always felt a little ache in my head after whatever evil force compels me to listen to it…but it's probably just psychosomatic.
Mark: Psycho the what now?
Kaen: Never mind. Look it up.
Mark: Well, I know an even better song to sing!
Kaen: Oh dear…By who?
Mark: I'll give you a hint – he and Rebecca Black would be perfect together.
Kaen: Wait…Oh, God, you're not gonna sing Justin Bieber!
Mark: BINGO! *sings* Baby, baby, baby, oooooooooooh…
Kaen: AAH! I can't stand Bieber! He's not even cute!
Damien: *bursts in with a pistol* DIE, BIEBER BOY! *shoots Mark*
Kaen: Did you…Did you just shoot Mark?
Damien: *blows smoke off of gun like in an old western* Yeah. Much more quick, efficient, and painless than an aneurysm or Rebecca Black's singing.
Kaen: True. But still, you plus gun equals Kaen uneasy.
Damien: Hmph. I know how to use this safely.
Kaen: 'Safe' and 'gun use' is oxymoronic.
Damien: Don't worry about it, I won't - *accidentally pushes the trigger and shoots the head off of a random passing bunny*
Kaen: SEE! YOU JUST SHOT A BUNNY!
Damien: Hm. *looks from gun to bunny and back* I suppose I see your point.
Kaen: This is why you don't let a teenager have a gun…Where did you get that, anyway?
Damien: *shifty eyes* Nowhere. But I'm not going to use it anymore, so no more bunnies will die. *puts gun on table* See?
Kaen: Er…I'm not convinced. How about we –
Edward Cullen: *appears out of nowhere* Hi, guys!
Kaen & Damien: AAAAAAAAAH! STALKER!
Damien: *grabs gun and starts shooting the hell out of Edward*
Kaen: That won't work alone, you nimrod! *pulls out random flamethrower and sets Edward on fire*
Edward: I'M SEXY! *dies*
Kaen: Phew. That's done.
Damien: What was he doing here anyway?
17-year-old appearance Renesmee: *out of sight* To show off the duck costume Alice made for me.
Kaen: Duck costume?
Damien: So she IS a duck…
Jacob & Renesmee: *walk in*
Renesmee: *looks humiliated in the duck costume* Just kill me now.
Jacob: *laughs* Alice had to practically wrestle her into it. She reminds me of her mom.
Renesmee: *slaps Jacob's shoulder* Not funny! *sees pile of ashes, A.K.A Edward* What's that?
Kaen & Damien: *look away and whistle*
Renesmee: Guys, was that my dad?
Kaen: …It was all his fault! *points at Damien*
Damien: Wh-what? Hey!
Renesmee: Oh well. The rest of the family was planning on killing him anyway. He was really starting to get on our nerves.
Kaen: Oh, okay then. Hey, wanna have a party?
Jacob: *wags his tail*
Damien: I shall provide fireworks! Katon! Gōkakyū no Jutsu! *blows fireball into the sky*
Kaen: DAMIEN! YOU JUST BLEW OFF THE ROOF!
Damien: …Oh. Hey, aren't you forgetting something?
Kaen: Oh, yeah! The disclaimer! Ahem…*clears throat* I do not own The Omen or Damien and Mark, I do not own the Cullen Song (I found it on YouTube, link is here - .com/watch?v=lSoFoGv5_iI), I do not own the Duck Song, I do not own Friday or Baby (fortunately), I do not own Twilight or Edward and Renesmee and (unfortunately) Jacob. All credit goes to their respective owners. So don't sue me.
Jacob: Well, now that that's over with, let's PARTY!
Everyone Else: WHOOT-WHOOT!