It Looks Like I Picked the Wrong Week to Quit Drinking Blood

Eastwood did all he could to try and land the plane as safely as possible, but it crashed down into the Potomac River. The plain split in two and both pieces started plummeting to the bottom of the lake and along with it, Eastwood, Ted Striker, General Usrodd, Lunchbox, Eggs, Kitty, Yukon, the Hammer, Marietta and Dr. Fritz Rommel.

Yukon was the first to react. He took off his clothes and underneath as always, he was wearing his wet suit.

This is the second time this week that I’ve taken off my clothes and had to swim in the Potomac, he thought.

His first priority was his wife, Kitty, who was slumped over unconscious in the seat next to him. She had hit her head against the window on impact. Yukon looked around as water was flooding in rapidly in the half of the plane that they were in, he saw General Usrodd sitting in his seat lifeless, with blood oozing out of his mouth. A metal rod from the plane had pierced his chest. He didn’t have time to muse about the irony of Usrodd dying by a rod; he had to get his wife and get the hell out of there. Dr. Rommel managed to get out of his seat belt and was screaming. “I can’t swim; help me.” Yukon didn’t see anyone else; he assumed the others were in the other half of the plane.

Eastwood staggered out of the cockpit with a bloody head. “You get the doctor; I’ll take my wife,” Yukon said to him. He quickly unfastened Kitty’s seat belt and grabbed her around the waist, as he swum towards the surface and Eastwood did the same. The doctor was frantically waving his arms in a panic, making it very difficult for Eastwood to swim, so he pulled the rod out of the General and whacked the doctor on the head, knocking him unconscious.

Eastwood and Yukon broke the surface, each carrying their unconscious cargo. Yukon surveyed the land. “It looks like we are only about a mile from shore.”

Eastwood looked at Yukon. “Where did you get the wet suit?”

“I always wear one underneath my clothes.”

“Smart, I should start doing that. You never know when you’re going to find yourself in the Potomac.”

“I hear you,” Yukon said.

The two began to swim, but it was slow going, trying to swim and carry Kitty and the doctor.

“Do you think the others will be okay?” Yukon asked.

Before Eastwood could respond, they heard a hissing noise and a life raft shot into the sky and landed back on the surface of the water. Lunchbox popped his head out, as well as Eggs and Marietta who climbed into the raft.

“Hey there, mind if we join you?” Eastwood asked with a grin.

Lunchbox only nodded; he looked grave. “The Hammer and Ted didn’t make it.”

The others pulled Kitty, Eastwood and Dr. Rommel into the raft. There wasn’t any more room in the raft for Yukon, who didn’t mind, because he preferred to swim.

“I remembered there was a life raft in one of the compartments on Air Force Two. Where’s the General?” Lunchbox asked.

“He’s dead; he was impaled by a piece of metal from the plane,” Eastwood said.

“Cecilia’s head was smashed and Ted’s was as well. We found him in the bathroom on the toilet. He must have had to go really bad,” Lunchbox said.

“Ted Striker died on the toilet?”

“Yes and he had a roll of toilet paper still in his hand. I hope the President and First Husband are okay.”

“The last I saw of them before we crash landed, it looked as though they were fighting the spaceship,” Eastwood said.

Lunchbox shook his head sadly. “They probably didn’t make it; that spaceship was damn near indestructible.”

***

Mick and Evan landed in front of the White House. Other than a cut on Mick’s forehead, the two were in good shape.

“On behalf of Earth…fuck you!” Evan said.

“Did you see that alien’s face when I said that and yanked him out of the ship?”

The couple laughed and then hugged one another. To say they had been through an ordeal was an understatement.

“Did you see what happened to the plane?” Evan asked.

Mick shook his head. “I was too busy with the spaceship. Maybe we should go back and look for them.”

“No, Lunchbox was adamant about me returning safely to the White House and besides, between Eastwood and Lunchbox, I don’t doubt they came through it safely.”

“You’re right,” Mick said. “But can we stop by the theater room first and get Guy to whip us up some wings? I’m as hungry as Stanley Johnson looks.”

The two drew their guns and stepped inside the White House. It was eerily quiet; on an average day, you could hardly hear yourself think from all the hustle and bustle. They worked their way past broken glass and a few dead aliens. Mick glanced up at the portrait of former President Trump. Someone had drawn a penis on his forehead.

“Melvin,” they both yelled at once.

Melvin heard his name and peeked out of the Theater room in the hallway. He smiled and was eating some cherries.

“What’s up bitches,” he said.

“Damn it’s good to see you,” Evan said.

“Where is everyone?” Mick inquired.

“We all fought our way to the tarmac to wait for your arrival. You were taking too long and I slipped away to come back here.”

“Cherries?” Mick asked with no need for a response.

“Yup,” Melvin replied with his mouth full.

Evan asked for an update and who was in his party. When Mick noticed Guy’s name wasn’t mentioned, he pressed Melvin.

“Melvin… Where’s Guy?”

“He didn’t make it.”

“Noooo!” Cried Evan and Mick simultaneously.

“Those Inkaku bastards are going to pay,” said The President as he pulled Mick’s sobbing head into his chest.

“There’s more… Honey knows who I am.”

“How did she figure it out?”

“I let slip that I’ve been a vampire all my life. That and…” Melvin raised the jar of cherries.

“Damn, she’s good,” Mick said. “Told you she would be a sharp V.P.”

Evan smilled at Mick. He asked Melvin who else knew his true identity.

“Just her… So far.”

“Let’s keep it that way. It’s a lot to take in the existence of vampires, but to discover that the original vampire still exists AND just so happens to be Blacula… That may be a bit much for this week.”

“Agreed.”

“Also, your manager died.”

“That’s okay. I mean it’s not okay that he’s dead, but I was going to fire him the day the apocalypse started. He was only getting me shit roles and taking 30% on everything I made.”

“Well since we’re not getting any damn wings, let’s go get the others,” the President said.

“As the three men made their way to the ground floor, Blacula paused.

“Wait… You guys hear that?”

No sooner as the question left his cherry stained lips, nearly all the windows in the area shattered inward, as Inkaku passed through them. A small army of alien assholes on the hunt for the President. This force was different than any they’ve faced before. In place of their gold and purple armor, were solid black suits with strategically placed armored plates of deep red. The plates looked like they were protecting the major organs, while the rest of the suit sacrificed protection for speed, and they were definitely faster.

In a flash, these new attackers surrounded Evan, Mick and Melvin. They moved quickly and efficiently, like ninjas. Alien ninjas.

Melvin gently placed his jar of cherries on the floor. “Things just got really bad… For these guys.”

Mick was first to act. He sprang forth with outreached arms and had the alien’s head removed, before it knew what hit him. As Mick stood there, holding the alien head up so the others could preview the coming attractions, it’s body sank to the floor next to him. The other aliens looked on in horror, but none of them were as horrified as the bodyless alien, who was still alive. Still being held up by Mick’s hand, the alien’s eyes looked downward at it’s own body, then lowered it’s jaw in a total, “OH SHIT” moment.

“Catch bitch,” Mick said, as he hurled the head at the next closest alien. The head struck with such force, that it knocked the second alien’s head clean off, but in a weird bit of happenstance, came to rest on that alien’s neck. It reminded Mick of the scene in Star Wars where Threepio’s head was on a Battle Droid. He was glad Evan and Melvin were there, because no one would believe it otherwise.

Melvin and Evan both smiled and joined in the fun; ripping off heads, punching through chests, and grabbing the occasional drink from the fountains of blood throughout the room.

The three men stood around the room surveying the carnage.

“That was refreshing,” Melvin said. “I haven’t had blood like that in a century. Nuttier than human blood.”

This was the first blood Evan and Mick had ever had other than from an animal.

“Kanye Christ, That was delicious,” Mick said.

After tasting human blood, vampires had a habit of getting addicted to it. There was a good chance Evan and Mick could start viewing humans as sirloin, but this was alien blood, so maybe they would be okay. Melvin could only hope that would be the case. He knew all too well, the only way to fight back the cravings for human blood once you got the taste for it, was to develop another addiction…

Melvin picked his jar up. “We’re gonna need more cherries…”