This is a one-shot, while I continue working on the sequel for “Deadly Decisions”. The characters again belong to not only Charlaine Harris and Alan Ball, but also Kevin Smith. If you have never seen Clerks, I highly recommend. Again using AB's version of Tara. Reviews and critiques are still welcomed. It will only help me to become a better writer.
I drifted off to sleep after another a hot session of lovemaking with my Viking, in my living room while watching one of Amelia's favorite movie called “Clerks” (she is such a Kevin Smith fanatic). I remembered Eric told me he enjoyed watching me sleep, and often wondered what did I dream about...
My dream for some reason it's in black and white. Instead of working at Merlotte's, I'm working at the Grabbit-Kwik convenience store. Amelia, wearing a tattered looking Sex Pistols t-shirt and equally ragged pair of jeans, with a baseball cap on her head, was sitting in the corner on the stool behind the counter with me reading the newspaper, smacking her gum.
"Looks like the fucking FoTs are at it again, Sook" raising her head up looking at me, bouncing her leg against the leg of the stool, "Fucking bastards." she muttered. She folds up the paper and tucked it under her arm, and jumped over the counter and landed one her feet with ease.
"Let me go ahead and open up the video store next door, before fuckers start bitching." before she sauntered out, I notice the clock read 6p. She stopped at the door, when she heard me, "Hey you were suppose to open at 9a." frowning at her with disappointment. Leaning against the door, still smacking that gum, giving me that who gives a damn look, she replied with a shitty smile, "I was on break, geez." I reminded her the shop closed at 9p. She shrugged, still had shitty smile, plastered on her face, "Sooks always the responsible one, don't you remember when we went to junior college, I took up a course there, Slacker 101? I'm utilizing those skills, by implementing them in real life. Buh-bye" chuckling as she leaves out. Then realized she never paid for the paper. Bitch!
Ding! (Bell on the door)
I glanced up. Customer came in, knew he was a vamp, due to the pale skin tone, yet he looked strangely familiar, like a singer. He walked back towards the freezer, thought he was going to grab a six pack of True Blood, then he set it back down, reached for another six pack of True Blood, does the same thing again. After observing this for all of 10 minutes, I approached him. Strangely I didn't fear him, was just mildly curious. “Excuse me sir”, tapping on his hunched down shoulder, “May I help you with something,” fixed him with my friendly smile. He gave me a sideways glance, replied in a very familiar voice, had a southern twang to it, “Naw, l'il missy. I'm fine. Just checking the expiration dates on the bottles, before I decide to buy, that's all” I lean over a little, “Well let me know if you need help okay”, he returns back to his self-appointed task “True Blood Inspector, Badge #411”, I figured what he was doing was harmless enough, strange but harmless. As I headed back to go behind the counter, situating items that were out of place, setting them back to rights so to speak, I heard loud yelling outside the store door. Recognizing the voice, I already knew who that was.