Bite Me: A Love Story Chapter 6~7

6. The Vampire Parrots of Telegraph Hill A group of wild parrots lives in the city of San Francisco. They are South American cherry-headed conures-splendid green with a red head, somewhat littler than a commonplace pigeon. Nobody is very certain how they went to the City. All things considered, they are the relatives of creatures trapped in the wilderness, at that point discharged to the city skies when they demonstrated too wild to be in any way kept as pets. They fly over the northern waterfront of San Francisco, scrounging for natural product, berries, and blooms, from the Presidio at the passage of the Golden Gate Bridge, over Pacific Heights, the Marina, Russian Hill, North Beach, and right to the Ferry Building close to the Oakland Bay Bridge. They are social, squawky, senseless fowls that mate forever and publicize their essence with a bedlam of blares and tweets that move grins from occupants, bewilderment from travelers, and craving in predators, for the most part red-followed birds of prey and peregrine hawks. The parrots go through their evenings high in the trees of Telegraph Hill, underneath the incredible solid phallus of Coit Tower, shielded from assault from birds of prey by the evergreen overhang overhead, and from everything except the most driven felines, by the sheer height. Yet at the same time, they are once in a while assaulted, and albeit delicate animals, they will retaliate, gnawing with their thick, worked for-seed-smashing bills. Which is what occurred. The following morning after he saw the feline assault in the SOMA, the Emperor of San Francisco was stirred from a home he'd made in one of the little step plants on Telegraph Hill, to hear parrots screeching in the trees. The sun was simply breaking the skyline behind the Bay Bridge, turning the water red-gold under a blue morning fog. The Emperor slithered free from a heap of rug cushioning, stood, and extended, his incredible joints squeaking exposed like antiquated church entryways. The men, Bummer and Lazarus, jabbed their noses out of the dark shroud, snuffled the day break, at that point, with the call of the parrots, settled themselves to morning and developed like dire butterflies to look for the ideal spot for the principal small of the day. The three looked as fifty or so screeching parrots orbited Coit Tower and took off toward the Embarcadero, where, out of nowhere, they all quit flying, burst into blazes, and fell like a seething tempest of passing on comets into Levi's Plaza. â€Å"Well, you don't see that each day,† said the Emperor, scratching Lazarus' ears through the gauzes. The retriever was a doggy variant of The Mummy, enveloped ears to tail by gauzes after his last experience with the vampire felines. The vet in the Mission needed to keep him short-term, yet the retriever had never gone through a night from the Emperor since they had discovered one another, and the vet had no facilities for a huge and husky ruler, not to mention a feisty Boston terrier, so the three had bunked together away from plain view cushion. Bummer chuffed, which made an interpretation of from pooch to: â€Å"I don't care for it.† As the acclaimed frog sang, it is difficult being green. 7. The Fog Comes on Little Cat Feet and so forth FOO Stephen â€Å"Foo Dog† Wong's completely bombarded Honda float machine was brimming with rodents. Not totally full, the front seat was filled by Jared Whitewolf, Abby's reinforcement BFF. (BBFF, truly.) â€Å"Did you need to get all white ones?† Jared inquired. He was six foot two, slim, and paler than Death shagging a snowman. The sides of his head were shaved and in the center he brandished an unlaquered Mohawk, which hung in his eyes except if he was lying on his back or turning upward. Notwithstanding a story length dark PVC cenobite coat, he was as of now wearing Abby's thigh-high red stage Skankensteinâ ® boots, which was totally inside his privileges, as her current BFF. What troubled Foo was not that Jared had on young lady's boots, yet that he had on the boots of a young lady with particularly little feet. â€Å"Don't those hurt?† Jared removed his hair from his eyes. â€Å"Well, it resembles Morrissey stated, ‘Life is suffering.'† â€Å"I think the Buddha said that.† â€Å"I'm almost certain Morrissey said it first-like, harking back to the eighties.† â€Å"No, it was the Buddha.† â€Å"Have you ever even observed an image of the Buddha with shoes on?† Jared inquired. Foo couldn't accept he was having this contention. In addition, he was unable to accept he was losing this contention. â€Å"Well, I have a few Nikes upstairs that may fit you in the event that you have to change shoes. We should get the rodents emptied. I need to get to work.† Jared as of now had four plastic enclosures with two white rodents in each stacked on his lap, so he unfurled himself out of the Honda and wobbled on the red stages to the fire entryway of the space. â€Å"Don't attempt to paint them black,† Jared stated, peering into the Plexiglas boxes as Foo opened the entryway for him. â€Å"I attempted that with my first rodent, Lucifer. It was tragic.† â€Å"Tragic?† said Foo. â€Å"I'd have never speculated. Put them on the floor in the family room. I'll acquire the truck from stir tomorrow and get some collapsing tables to put them on.† Notwithstanding seeking after his degree in atomic science, and differently saving Abby, defining vampire serum, and deceiving out his Honda, Foo still worked low maintenance at Stereo City, where he represented considerable authority in telling individuals that they required a greater TV. â€Å"You still have that job?† Jared said as he faltered up the steps. â€Å"Abby said you folks have absolute screw you money.† For what reason did she let him know? She should let him know. Did she disclose to him everything? For what reason did she must have companions by any stretch of the imagination? She'd given Jared 5,000 dollars of Jody and Tommy's cash for Hanukkah-regardless of the way that neither one of them was Jewish. â€Å"Because I won't let standard society make me into the Christmas bitch of the zombie infant Jebus, that is why,† she'd said. â€Å"And on the grounds that he helped me deal with the Countess and Lord Flood when they were in trouble.† â€Å"I need to keep my cover,† Foo said. â€Å"For charge purposes.† That was in part obvious. He needed to keep up his spread, since, as Abby, he hadn't really told his folks that he'd moved out. They were so used to him being at school, in the lab, or at work, that they hadn't generally seen that he wasn't resting at home. It helped that he had four more youthful siblings and sisters, who were all conveying crazy work and course stacks. His folks were about work. For whatever length of time that you were worked, you were alright. They could smell drudge from miles away, or its absence. He may have the option to pull off living in his own space with his creepy provocative sweetheart, and doing strange hereditary analyses on the undead, yet on the off chance that he quit his place of employment they'd sense it in a second. It took Foo and Jared twenty minutes to get all the rodents up the means and arranged around the front room. â€Å"We're not going to hurt them, are we?† said Jared, holding up one of the plastic pens so he was eye to eye with its inhabitants. â€Å"We're going to transform them into vampires.† â€Å"Oh, cool. Now?† â€Å"No, not presently. For the present, you're going to need to take care of them and ensure there's a water bottle in each of their cages,† Foo said. â€Å"Then what?† Jared solicited, removing his hair from his eyes. â€Å"Then you can go home,† said Foo. â€Å"You don't have to watch them full-time until the investigation starts.† â€Å"I can't return home. I told my folks I was remaining over at Abby's.† Foo was out of nowhere alarmed at the idea of going through the night in the space with a hundred rodents, two tanned vampires, and Jared. Particularly Jared. Perhaps he'd return home and leave Jared to watch the rodents show up at home for the guardians, in order to lose them the path of his non-drudging, space living, Anglo-sweetheart way of life. â€Å"You can remain here, then,† Foo said. â€Å"I'll be back in the morning.† â€Å"What about them?† Jared gestured toward the tanned figures of Jody and Tommy. â€Å"What about them?† â€Å"Can I converse with them? I didn't get the opportunity to complete the process of telling Jody my novel.† Jared had gone through an exceptionally taxing evening revealing to Jody the initial segment of the novel he would compose, a suggestive frightfulness story that featured himself and his pet rodent, Lucifer 2. â€Å"Okay,† said Foo. He didn't generally like pondering the two individuals, well, vampires, however they appeared to be a ton like individuals, that he'd detained in a bronze shell. It kind of gave him the creeps, and that was exceptionally informal. â€Å"But no touching,† he included. Jared sulked and plunked down on the futon, about the main spot in the whole front room kitchen zone not secured with plastic rodent confines. â€Å"Okay, yet will you assist me with getting these boots off before you go?† Foo shivered. It had been not exactly an hour since the cops drove Abby away and right now he missed her like a cut off appendage. It was humiliating. How could hormones and hydrostatic weight cause you to feel this way? Love was exceptionally informal. â€Å"Sorry,† Foo said. â€Å"Gotta jet.† A genuine legend, the sort Abby blamed him for being, he knew, would have helped Jared. JARED Abby Normal had once offered to pay for a tattoo for Jared that read: Danger. Try not to oversee caffeine without grown-up oversight. Jared asked, â€Å"Can it be in red? Does it need to be on the temple? Possibly as an afterthought so I can develop my hair over it on the off chance that I don't care for it. Am I being emotional? Would you like to play Blood-devour Xbox? They have green hide iPod cases at Urban Outfitters. I love white chocolate mochas. Marilyn Manson should be hauled to death behind a comedian vehicle. Gracious fuck, I'm so sensitive to this eyeliner I could cry.† Abby stated, â€Å"Oh my God, you're similar to Obnoxious and Annoying had an ass baby!† â€Å"What are you attempting to say?† asked Ja