Ask Dr. L — The Devil is In the Details

November 8, 2011

Ask Dr L


For a small fortune (and the promise of a steady supply of medicinal quality V) has gotten Dr. L to agree to answer your supernatural medical questions. Ask Dr. L is written by Dr. L (any resemblance to any characters living, dead or undead is purely coincidental), also known as Doctor to the Supernaturals, and was founded by her mother, Philine Paullips. It is the most popular and widely syndicated supernatural medical advice column in this world — or any other. Known for its uncommon nonsense and immortal, or just darn old, perspective.


Dear readers: I am sorry for my long absence, but I have been quite busy studying new and different techniques of being a successful cougar…er, I mean, doctor to supernatural beings. Here are replies to some of the queries in my backlog:


Nov 8, 2011


Dear Dr L,
A sneaky devil broke my heart years ago, and he put a spell on me. Can you help?
Bedeviled in WV


Dear Bedeviled,
Well, dear, you might imagine I get this sort of question quite often. Women are usually the ones asking, but once in a while I get this question from a man. My gentler, kinder Dr L answer is to pick yourself up, find someone worthy of you and enjoy life in spite of the sneaky devil, letting him see just who and what  he missed.
The second, more “me” answer is to tell you to come in and get some of my anti bedeviled potion. It is formulated to hit each individual where he (or she) is most vulnerable. Example: Does he love his car? This will put a hex on his machine and turn it into a pile of junk. Is he a smooth talker? This will turn him into a blathering idiot around women. Is he proud of his sexual prowess? Guaranteed to turn a stallion into one of those plastic ponies on a Wal-Mart merry-go-round.
Keep me posted, and let me know if you need that potion. It’s costly, but always worth it. PS we can ship to WV, for a little extra.

Dear Dr L,
I don’t know who else to turn to, or I would. You seem kind of creepy to me, but your column does give some pretty good answers to questions that others can’t answer. So, here goes. I live near you, and I know you are familiar with the sinful, crazy goings on in my little town. I am a church going, God-fearing person, but I am starting to get a little fearful living here. I am tired of going out after dark wearing something heavy and garlic around my neck. Doesn’t lead to a very good social life, you know?
Anyhow, much as it pains me, I was hoping you’d know of some sort of full service protection against those awful vampires, as well as the werewolves and shape shifters I have come across. I want to be able to make sure anyone I have fellowship with is 100% human and normal, know what I mean?
Can you help me?
Nervous Nelly


Dear NN,
Creepy? ME? Well, that’s a good way to start a conversation in which you are asking for my help, isn’t it? Bet you are not the sharpest tack in the box, now are you? Because I could, theoretically, lead you to something exactly opposite of what you are asking me for, and you’d be in a real fix then, hmmm???
But, my ethical standard don’t allow me to do that- even to a sniveling cry baby like you. I suggest you come into the office and order one of my specially designed silver body suits, infused with crosses and odorless garlic throughout. You might look a little odd at first- no, strike that- you WILL look a lot odd at first, but as soon as these babies catch on, they will become all the rage. Trust me. And there is no one size fits all here- we custom make these. I mean come on, if it fits me, is it also going to fit that awful Viking? Not that he’d be able to wear it, but that was an example.
Call my office for an appointment. And creepy- I never!

Hey, hey, Dr L,
How’s my favorite little doctor hottie doing these days? You may not remember me, but I have written to you here many times before, asking you to go out with me in my tricked out 57 Chevy. You always shot me down in the past, but I am a very positive thinker, so I live in hope. Can I pick you up tonight at say, 9 pm?
Sign me,
Livin’ in hope


Dear “Livin'”
News flash: Hope is not only dead for you, but the ashes have been scattered all over the bayou.
I hear the blow up dolls have come a long way…

Dear Dr L,
I have a beautiful baby boy, only 3 years old. He is such a joy to my husband and me, and we are so happy to have him. We couldn’t have children of our own, and we adopted him through rather shady channels, as we are older, and not qualified for regular adoptions.
I’ll just get right to the point. Our baby has begun to display some rather troubling behaviors. We have noticed that when he has an itch, he will scratch it just as easily with his feet as with his hands. When the moon is full, he sometimes makes growling noises, and last time, he full-out howled. But most disturbing was last week, when I went into the bathroom after he’d asked to go in there and I found him, well, licking himself dry. I was horrified.
Can you help us, please? We love our son, and we want him, no matter what, but is there anything you can do?
Mom in distress


Dear Mom,
Well, I do understand people wanting children. I never wanted any myself, as not only am I too busy in my career to raise a child, but also, he or she would likely be taller than me by the time they went to school. So I can’t exactly empathize, but I hope I can advise you.
First, let’s just get to the truth: It sounds like you have a baby were or shifter. You are in luck, because I do have a behavioral group at my clinic that helps train these “unique” children- sit, stay, roll over, etc. And, if you enroll today, I’ll give a half price on all vaccinations, including rabies and parvo.

Be sure to Submit your questions in the Comments Section below and if you’re unlucky enough Dr. L may choose to answer your question (and send you a bill.. how does she find us? Does she use mail Owls?)!To view past Dr. L words of wisdom just do a search on Dr. L in the box in the upper left of the page.

Disclaimer: These answers are provided for entertainment purposes only and should not be followed by ordinary humans. This column is a parody of the Gothic fantasy series, True Blood, and as such, is presented here for your amusement. Ask Dr. L and the various writers that contribute to it, have no relationship/affiliation to HBO, True Blood, or any of the cast or crew of said nor any relation to Charlaine Harris’ Sookie Stackhouse novels.


Ask Dr. L — New Year New You

January 7, 2011

For a small fortune (and the promise of a steady supply of medicinal quality V) has gotten Dr. L to agree to answer your supernatural medical questions. Ask Dr. L is written by Dr. L (any resemblance to any characters living, dead or undead is purely coincidental), also known as Doctor to the Supernaturals, and was founded by her mother, Philine Paullips. It is the most popular and widely syndicated supernatural medical advice column in this world — or any other. Known for its uncommon nonsense and immortal, or just darn old, perspective.

January 7, 2011

Dear Dr. L,
Please HELP! My parents are way strict. I’m home schooled and the only time I can get away from them is when they let me go on church youth group outings to witness to non-believers in other towns.
Well, two weeks ago I knocked on this one lady’s door and she invited me in and I thought she was really nice. She listened to everything I had to say. Heck, she listened so long that I parched myself out! I know it’s wrong, but I couldn’t help it and when she offered me a glass of sweet tea, I accepted. Even though we’re told not to accept anything from the unclean, the tea tasted wonderful.
Now though, I think maybe I was poisoned or something. Ever since that day, I been feeling real happy, I mean even when mama asks me to rub her feet, I’m happy. It doesn’t bother me at all like it used to. That’s not the bad part though, the worst part is I keep having to hide my sheets!!
Every night I dream I am shooting fire from my fingertips and the fire just zaps anyone who told me I couldn’t do something that day, into a pile of ash while I laugh. I’m always happy when I wake up, till I look down and see scorch marks where my fingers are lying on the sheets.
Dr. L, please, please tell me I’m not a witch or something. I just know my family would burn me at the stake or drown me if I am.
How can I stop burning my sheets without being going back to being miserable again?

Sad I’m So Happy

Dear Sad..or is it Happy?
Seems you’re from a really religious family. My ideas about organized religions of any type likely do not mesh with yours. But that being said, I will do my best to answer your questions. Short answer: Yes, you got zapped by the tea. Those pesky witches really like to play with religious folks. Maybe it’s some form of payback for the burning at the stake and drowning thing, you think? And it really doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, as I think you all are a bunch of overzealous fanatics.
To tell you the truth, I was a bit concerned over your statement about the need to change your sheets every day. Though you did not indicate this, I sense you are a young male person. And of course, being strictly religious, you are not allowed the pleasures of the flesh with someone else. So the sheet thing kind of grossed me out, till you talked about the fiery fingers. OK- I’m better now. I do have a cure for that, and you can make an appointment to come in. (I take cash, check and most major credit cards). But, as a caveat, I have to warn you, the happy goes away with the fire. Your choice.

Dr. L,
Is there such a thing as a “truth serum” for vampires? My boyfriend says he loves me, and says he doesn’t want to drink my blood but it’s irresistible to him. He tells me that it’s torture to be so close to me and not touch me, but that if I give him time he’ll prove that I can trust him not to drain me.
I told him there’s no way I can go any further unless I know he’s in this relationship for the long haul. Even though he cries bloody tears, my friends assure me that they are crocodile-vampire tears and that if a vamp’s mouth is moving, he’s lying.
Dr. L, how can I be sure the vampire that I want to trust is telling the truth?

Skeptical Shelly

Dear SS,
Good girl for being skeptical. And I LIKE your friends- but they stole my favorite line, “if a vamp’s mouth is moving, he’s lying.” So, rather than lead you down a very unlikely and undoubtedly expensive garden path of coming to see me for a truth serum for these vile, lying creatures, who wouldn’t know Truth if it bit them in their respective asses, I will just suggest you find another boyfriend of the breathing variety. Good luck!

Hey, Doc!
I hope you can settle a bet I got with my girlfriend. We was makin out at the bog last weekend. It was a night of pure magic, ya know, Lynyrd Skynyrd on the boom box and a case of Lone Star beer that was actually cold, thanks to the cold snap the night before. Anyway, things was going great, Mandy was dancin’ in the headlights when I noticed a movement across the water. I swear, I saw a little red haired man digging a hole or somethin. I told Mandy to look and she did, but she’s so dumb, she said she thought it was a goat. So I asked her what kinda’ goat only has two legs, and she says her uncle Billie’s goat can walk on two legs. He was even at the state fair last year. So we made a bet, is there such a thing as Leprechauns?
Please say, yes, Dr. L. Otherwise, I gotta’ wash her “unmentionables,” and trust me, after seeing her drawers, I’m ascared to find out what her “unmentionables” are. But if I win, Mandy’s gotta’ wash the four wheeler down, every time I come back from mud buggin’ for the rest of the year!

Mr. Clean

Dear Baldy (it’s a joke, in reference to Mr Clean…OK, forget it),
Is this some kind of joke? I mean, I live in an area crawling with otherworldly creatures of every ilk (that means “kind” or “sort”, by the way). And being OS less than tall stature myself, you choose to ask me about a wee type. I swear, if I find out you’re making fun of me, I will find you and slap you silly. Oh wait, you already are…again, forget it.
Clean one, there is nothing you can think of or imagine that doesn’t exist, either in this dimension or in others that they can pop in and out of to come here. So tell that gal of yours to wash her undies in the warm, soapy water she’s going to have to use to clean your 4 wheeler.
And I daresay, you say one of my kin folk- cousin Paddy. Tell him hi from Cousin Doc next time.

Dr. L,
I’m a member of the Fellowship of the Sun. My parents and my cousins and my brothers and sisters are all believers. However, last month I met a boy while I was working at Sonic. At first, I thought he was just a really good skater, like good enough to be in the Olympics or something, but then I found out he was really a Vampire! He’s really nice to me though, and when I fall behind, he always makes up my rounds and he even gives me the tips.
He asked me if I wanted to go to the midnight showing of Rocky Horror Picture Show next weekend. The problem is, the next morning I’m supposed to be up at four in the morning so we can go picket the Vampire Casket Company outside of Beaumont. Dr. L, will I burn in hell if I lie to my parents and tell them my sorority sisters are having another “Hello Halo” sleepover that night?


Dear Virginia,
Dear Goddess, what is going on with the religious fanatics going to the dark side this week? Not that I have any more love or respect for the Fellowship Fanatics than I do the slimy vampires, but there must be something in the water- or the tea (please read the first query).
Let me make myself clear- I hate vampires. I only tolerate them for their blood, as it has phenomenal healing qualities. I don’t trust one any further than I can throw one. But, your question as to whether or not lying to your parents, who are obviously buying lies on a daily basis if they are part of the Fellowship of the Sun, would cause you to burn in hell- no, it won’t. But spending a lot of time with a vampire might make you wish you were in hell.
Just saying.

Dear Dr. L!
OMG! OMG!! Totally Freaking Out! Been dating this one guy for three months now. Always seemed to work out on a full moon that he had to pull a double shift. Since I’m a werewolf myself, it was a relief that I never had to break a date or change plans. However, he’s just confessed that he’s a were also! I was sooo happy, until he told me he’s a were sheep! OMG, Dr. L! I’m a werewolf! Who knows? I mean, I may have eaten his mother or sister or something!! Sheep are so delectable! No wonder I’ve wanted him like no other. What am I supposed to do?! Of course, I should leave him, but I’m afraid I love him too much to let him go! But what will happen when we are both in our animal form?!

Shy but Deadly.

Dear Deadly,
A little known fact is that in addition to being a universally renowned and respected doctor to humans and supernaturals alike, I also happen to be an amazing gourmet chef. I have a superb recipe for rack of lamb with mint sauce. I’ll send it to you.
Bon Appetite!

Be sure to Submit your questions in the Comments Section below and if you’re unlucky enough Dr. L may choose to answer your question (and send you a bill.. how does she find us? Does she use mail Owls?)!

To view past Dr. L words of wisdom just do a search on Dr. L in the box in the upper left of the page.

Disclaimer: These answers are provided for entertainment purposes only and should not be followed by ordinary humans. This column is a parody of the Gothic fantasy series, True Blood, and as such, is presented here for your amusement. Ask Dr. L and the various writers that contribute to it, have no relationship/affiliation to HBO, True Blood, or any of the cast or crew of said nor any relation to Charlaine Harris’ Sookie Stackhouse novels.


The Franklin Files — The Gifts

December 23, 2010

“You know our mamas would be ticked if they knew we were getting them the same thing.”

“Girlfriend, who the hell taught you to wrap a present? Don’t you know you line up the box along the top of the edge of the wrapping paper so you get a nice even line so it all wraps up nice and even?” Lafayette snatched the large box away from Tara. “Just let me wrap the damn presents. They’ll probably be pissed to know I wrapped them both, too, but damn, I can’t stand a bad wrapping job.”

“There is soooo much I could be saying right now, but since it’s Christmas Eve I think I’ll just leave it alone right now. I can’t wait to get up in the morning and visit our moms.”

“Correction. I’ll be visiting my mom and then we’ll be visiting Lettie Mae together. You know how Ruby Jean can get. And on a Messianic holiday?! Oh, Lordy! She oughtta’ be in fine form tomorrow!”

“Well, thanks for taking away my Christmas morning entertainment…”

“Well, that’s not how we used to remember Christmas.”

“Yeah, I remember.”

“Lafayette, do you remember when I got the beautiful Black Malibu Barbie and you got that set of Power Rangers? And I have to tell you, whatever you put in this eggnog is damn good.”

“Why thank you, Miss Merlotte’s Bartender. It’s a little nutmeg, rum, brandy and crème de cacao. Guess they should have me doing everything up in that place, huh? But, anyway, yes, I think the now famous Power Rangers/Malibu Barbie Christmas may be what sent our mothers over the edge.”

Tara threw a pillow at him. “Boy, trust me. Our mothers were far gone before that. I’m surprised they had their shit together enough to even get us those presents. I wouldn’t be surprised if Sookie’s grandmother bought them for us.”

“Yeah, she probably did. Which makes it even sadder that they threw them out.”

“Boy, don’t look so morose. Now it seems all kind of funny. The disco music was blaring from the radio, and you made that runway on my bed. And I hooked up that fly-line from my closet so that Malibu Barbie could come in and blow the whole thing up. It was awesome! But seeing it from their perspective, you can see why they freaked a little!”

“Yeah, they walked in just in time to see the red power ranger in a tutu get blown right off the bed!”

“It was awesome! But I did look like a psychopath!”

“And I looked like…me!”

“You’re crazy! And in spite of everything, I do love you. Here, open your present.” Tara handed him what was possibly the worst wrapped present in the history of Christmas.

“Well, I see you wrapped it yourself.”

“Bitch. Just open it.”

Lafayette opened the box and inside was a crystal etched frame containing a smiling picture of him and Tara in close-up, all the love and all the history coming through. Tara said, “Sookie took it at Merlotte’s sometime this past year.”

Lafayette started to tear up. “Tara I love it. And despite all the stuff I say, I love you more than anything, more than anyone on the face of this earth, baby girl.”

“I know.”

“Here’s your present.” He handed her a jewelry box with a bow on it. She opened it up to find a beautiful solid round gold bracelet. “It’s engraved on the inside, it says ‘Mi Corazón’ which means ‘My Heart’ in Spanish. With all the attention on ‘beating’ and ‘unbeating’ hearts going on around here, I wanted you to know that your heart means the world to me, always and forever.”

Tara was speechless. With tears in her eyes she gave her cousin a hug and then the two of them melted into the couch and for a long time sat watching the video of the yuletide log they had playing on the TV. Suddenly, Tara jumped up. “With everything being so busy, we never did find out who was missing in Franklin’s Journal!”

“Damn, you’re right! That will be our final Christmas gift to each other! To at least find that out!”

Sunday, December 23, 1855

So, I am bereft this Christmastide. I have Gwendolyn but my parents are gone. My father is nothing but a blithering idiot. I have a parish but no heart to lead it. I pray for help…

These last two weeks have been a blur and I can’t begin to recount what I haven’t written. Suffice it to say, Mother is still missing. It’s as if she as fallen off the face of the earth although she has visited me in my dreams, but I will write more of that in a moment.

Gwendolyn has recovered, most thankfully. But I do not know how I can move forward with marriage at this time without my dear mother here to witness it. What will my marital home mean without my darling mother there to give advice? What will grandchildren mean without mother there to play and dote upon them? What will my life as a clergyman mean without mother there to see my success? It seems my life has lost all meaning…

Father’s life most certainly has. I have had to take up all preaching, such as it is. I can barely put two words together, but it is more than Father can do. A terrible secret has been revealed to me. As soon as mother disappeared, Father relinquished all parish duties to me. I thought it was out of grief, but after a few days of it, I confronted him in his bed, and told him to get up and get to doing something that he’d be the better man for it, the parish needed him, and so on and so forth. He completely broke down and confessed that he has done none of the parish work for years except for the visiting and the “showy” things, that mother does all the administrative work, and even writes his sermons for him! She always has, he says! He’s completely incapable of it. So, I’ve been left to do it all. He’s become nothing but a driveling mess, and I’d be angry if he weren’t so utterly pathetic. And to be honest, I’m too exhausted.

I haven’t been able to sleep well, after a horrible nightmare about mother about a week ago. Each night I both fear it will recur and hope that it will happen again so I may see her and have a clue as to where she is. I dreamed that I was awakened to find her and Mr. Flintwich, Mr. Edgington and Mr. Tobin all standing around my bed. She was holding my hand with hands as cold as ice, and then began to sniff at me as if she were taking in my scent. At this point Mr. Edgington and Mr. Tobin pulled her away from me, whispering that it was unwise for her to get too close.

In case it was really her, I tried to draw her in, by telling her that I had purchased that beautiful burgundy dress from the dress shop to give her as a gift for Christmas. I knew it would be like catnip for her and it she were truly alive she couldn’t resist. “Oh, Franklin, you bought the dress for me? You’re such a loving son.” But again, Mr. Edgington yanked on her arms, and said, something about being a maker or something. I couldn’t quite understand it.

Again, I brought up the dress, and her beautiful hair, trying to draw her out. But then Edgington got really angry and said they had to leave. She began to cry but her tears were like the blood of our Savior as you see in some paintings. Tobin approached me directly and said some words about forgetting they were there, but I started praying for my mother and her soul, the image of her tears being so horrific.

Mother must be dead, if not, why would she not return to me? The dream was just a nightmare and it is all jumbled and foggy in my brain. But I went to Mrs. Meagles to try to talk to Flintwich, Edgington, and Tobin, but only Flintwich and Waters remain. Edgington and Tobin have sailed for the States, which seems odd given the time of year. I know it is not Christian, but I would not mind they meet a winter storm and perish. Forgive me! There is something not right about those men. As to Flintwich and Waters, Mrs. Meagles said they are never available during the day, and that she would ask that they stop by the rectory without delay.

“Damn! I hate how this boy continues to make me feel bad for him! No wonder I was drawn to him. We’re both from the F’d Up Mother’s Club!” Tara threw a pillow into the chair next to her.

“Girl, it’s time we head over to Merlotte’s to work. There’s going to be a big time Christmas partying going on. Then we got some serious bejeweled robes and slippers to deliver. They are going to love them. My mom is going to have the finest robe in the nursing home and she looks so fine in jewel tone purple. Maybe if the dollar store is open, we can stop and get her a crown, she’d love that.”

“Yeah, if Franklin thinks his mama is a princess, he hasn’t met Ruby Jean. Now that woman thinks she’s a queen!”

Lafayette sighed, “Girl, sometimes, I think she really is.”

Disclaimer: The Franklin Files are provided for entertainment purposes only and is a parody of the fantasy series, True Blood, and as such, is presented here for your amusement. “Franklin Files” and the various writers who contribute to it, have no relationship/affiliation to HBO, True Blood, or any of the cast or crew of said program nor any relation to Charlaine Harris, or the Sookie Stackhouse novels.

Written By: Sarahfina

Photo & Graphics By: Sarahfina


Bungled Bunny

December 5, 2010

Sookie, you don’t have to do anything. Honestly, Carrie-Ann just moved here.”

Sam Merlotte, I am ashamed of you! We may not be a big town but we sure as heck know what southern hospitality is. Gran taught me better than that and you know it!”

Sookie was miffed at Sam. She expected more from him, a lot more. Carrie-Ann was a new waitress at Merlotte’s. She had moved from Kentucky because her soon-to-be husband was gonna be working a construction project on the outskirts of town. She’d been waitressing for a little over 6 weeks now, and at Merlotte’s that qualified you for a medal! Sookie was trying to plan her bachelorette party, but unfortunately, although Gran had taught her a great many things, the art of planning a bachelorette party was not one of those things.

Sookie was deep in thought when Bill walked in.

“What’s wrong Sookie?” Bill asked slightly alarmed, as concern crossed his face.

As always, the silence that accompanied Bill’s presence was a welcome relief.

“Well, I told our new waitress, Carrie-Ann, that I would plan a bachelorette party for her and I don’t have the foggiest idea what the heck I’m doing!”

Bill ducked his head, obviously attempting to hide a smile.

“Sookie, I will have to check my southern charms manual again, but I don’t remember seeing anything about bachelorette parties. I will be happy to assist you but I’m afraid my own skills are somewhat lacking.”

Sookie sighed. “Oh, I know. Thanks anyway.”

“I stopped by to ask if you would mind accompanying me to see Eric tomorrow. He has yet another favor to ask of us…and by us I mean you.”

Sookie looked up at him. She really didn’t want to do Eric Northman anymore favors, but it was a price she paid. As soon as that thought left her head, she had an epiphany.

“Bill! Eric! He must know all about parties and planning! Yes, I will go with you tomorrow. Come by here just after sunset.”

Sookie walked off happier than she had been all day. Bill frowned as he turned to leave Merlotte’s. He hated how excited she was. He knew in his head that it wasn’t really due to seeing Eric, she was just hopeful that he might be able to help her, but still, to him, excited was excited. Bill was afraid that if Eric sensed her need for his assistance, he might be able to talk her into more than was good for her. Sighing, Bill left the bar and headed home.

The next evening just after sunset, Sookie and Bill pulled up outside Fangtasia. Pam was working the door, looking appropriately stunning and scary all at the same time.

“Well, well, well! We haven’t had the pleasure of your company for a while. What brings you to our humble establishment?” Pam looked from Sookie to Bill with that certain look; one could never tell what her intentions were.
Bill answered, “Pam, we were summoned by Eric. But of course, you already knew that.”

“Yes, well, he didn’t exactly tell me what he wanted with you.” Dismissing Bill, she turned her attention to Sookie, “And how are you this evening?”

“Oh, I’m great, Pam. And hey, when we get done can I talk to you for a second? I have something I’m planning and I need your help.”

“Ooo, I’m enthralled,” Pam said with her usual charming sarcasm.

Bill and Sookie entered the bar and headed back to Eric’s office. The door was cracked and Eric was sitting at his desk. As usual, Sookie was struck by his presence. He seemed to fill the room with his authority. He looked up as the two entered.

“Bill, thanks for coming. Although I would have preferred it two days ago,” he said, with a hint of warning in his tone.

“Eric, remember I’m not the only one here and Sookie has priorities. She doesn’t have to jump at your beck and call.”

“She doesn’t. But you do,” Eric said menacingly. The two glowered at each other a second longer before Sookie jumped in.

“Oh for heaven’s sake, Eric! Bill said you needed my help or a favor or something. So what is it?”

Eric stood up and walked around the desk.

“Well as I said, if you had been here two days ago, I would have needed you to listen in on someone. However, let’s just say, there is no longer a need for those particular services.”

Sookie was about to lose her temper when she remembered she needed a favor as well. Covering her anger quickly, she plastered on her brightest smile.

“Oh well. No harm taking a trip over here. It has been quite a while since I’ve seen you.”

Eric crossed his arms over his chest and grinned, which in Eric terms meant that something of great hilarity had just struck him.

“I take it you need something from me?”

“Why would you say that?” Sookie asked as innocently as she could.

“Because you suck at sucking up. Take it from someone who sucks for a living.”

Sookie laughed slightly. Sometimes it bothered her that Eric seemed to be able to read her so easily.

“Well, I’m supposed to be planning a bachelorette party for someone and I have no idea how to do it. I was hoping that you might be able to help me?”

“And why should I know about such things?”

“Well, I just figured since you owned a bar, you might have some idea about parties.”

Eric thought for a second. He knew nothing about what she was asking, however, having Sookie indebted to him would always be of benefit. Surely, this was something he could have Pam take care of.

Eric seemed to be thinking it over and Sookie was hopeful. She had almost forgotten Bill standing there with her. She looked up at him and smiled, he returned it with a weak smile of his own.

“Yes, I will help you. When is the event supposed to take place?”

“On Saturday. We were planning to do it up at Merlotte’s after the bar closed.”

“Fine, I will see what we can come up with. Will that work?”

Sookie was actually surprised he asked her, “Yeah of course that will work. Thanks Eric.”

“Good. Pam,” Eric called into the hallway, “Come in here for a second.”

Pam sauntered into the office in her usual bored fashion.

“Sookie has asked me for a favor and I will need your assistance.”

Pam looked from Eric to Sookie and seemed about to protest but clamped her mouth shut and gave a barely perceptible nod as a knowing look passed between the two.

“Sookie, one of us will be in touch in a day or two.”

“Great! Thanks…ah, to both of you.” Sookie said with a nervous glance in Pam’s direction.

Bill and Sookie said their goodbyes and headed back to Bon Temps.

Over the next few days Sookie heard from Eric, perhaps a little more than she needed, but she wouldn’t complain since he was saving her bacon on this one. He’d assured her that Pam would be over the evening of the party and had the entertainment covered. Sookie’s face flamed as she recalled what he said just before hanging up. The nerve of that vamp! Of course, she wouldn’t be repeating that part of their conversation to anyone.

Friday evening arrived. Sookie and Arlene were decorating the bar with the decorations that Eric had sent over.

“Wow, Sookie! You really went all out on this stuff. It looks amazing!” Arlene said.

“Yeah, I know! Pam and Eric really helped me out on this one.” Sookie was thrilled with the decorations; everything was so very bright and sparkly. It looked like someone had thrown diamonds all over Merlotte’s. Sookie could only imagine that this might be what a Fairy land would resemble.

Jessica walked into the bar looking happier than Sookie had seen her in a long time. Arlene looked her way but kept her mouth shut and kept hanging decorations.

“I’m so excited, Sookie! I never got to go to any kind of wedding shower and I certainly never went to a bachelorette party. Maybe I can get some ideas if anything ever happens with me and Hoyt,” she said as she looked at the bar dreamily.

“Well, make sure and ask Eric, he is the one who helped me out. Pam too, she’s also coming by to give us a hand at the party.”

“Pam! Really? Wow, I can only imagine what she will come up with!”

“Hey!” said Arlene from atop the ladder where she was hanging some more lights. “What are we doing for entertainment?”

“Eric said Pam will take care of it. She left me a message that she had everything taken care of but she was really secretive about it. She sounded like she actually wanted to make it a surprise!” Sookie had to admit that she wasn’t too sure about that part because Pam was really not one to cater to humans, to say the very least.

The ladies finished decorating the back area of the bar. Merlotte’s would be open tomorrow but not the back area. It was reserved for the party.

Everyone headed home with calls of see you tomorrow.

The day of the party arrived. Sookie got off work early and went home to change. She headed back up to Merlotte’s later in the day to finish up and get everything ready. Arlene was already there helping Lafayette get the food together. Terry was helping Sam stock the bar so the ladies wouldn’t want for anything. The boys took off just as Jessica arrived, and the guests started filing in not long after that. Pam had yet to show up and Sookie began to worry.

“Sookie! You totally outdid yourself! I don’t even know what to say,” Carrie-Ann gushed. She was staring at the sparkling room in awe. There was a small table that was now covered with presents. Everyone was enjoying the food and drinks, the wine was flowing freely. Jessica had a True Blood and Carrie-Ann seemed honored to have a vampire at her bachelorette party.

“Someone told me you had some vampires helping you plan this! I can’t wait to see what the entertainment will be.”

“Me neither,” Sookie muttered under her breath. At that moment there was a gasp at the same time the front door closed. Sookie turned to see everyone staring at the entrance.

“Oh my god!” someone muttered from the back.

There stood Pam pulling a ridiculously large fake cake and dressed head to toe in a stripper bunny costume.

Sookie hurried toward Pam, taking a second to acknowledge that she looked damn good decked out in her bunny gear.

“Pam! What in the world are you doing?” she asked in a hushed whisper.

“What does it look like I’m doing? The human Eric hired to perform canceled last night so I Googled what was required for a party like this. It seems ridiculously easy; I could do it in my sleep.”

Sookie’s mind raced. What was she going to tell her? She couldn’t believe that Pam was actually looking at her like SHE was the crazy one.

“Listen, Cupcake. Just point me to someplace to wait till it’s my time to perform.”

“Um, Pam, what exactly did you look up on the computer?”

Pam looked at Sookie like she was beyond dense. “Why, Bachelor party entertainment, of course. And believe me; I’m toning it down because there is no way I will be giving lap dances to the local yokels here tonight.”

Sookie began turning red on Pam’s behalf.

“Pam, this is a bachelorette party. Bachelor parties have female strippers or dancers. Bachelorette parties have male strippers or dancers.”

Realization slowly dawned on Pam’s face and she looked as if she were bound to the spot by thick silver chains. Pam was naturally pale but Sookie could swear she watched the last vestiges of blood drain from her beautiful face.

By this time the other ladies in the room were trying extremely hard not to laugh. Everyone turned and started to busy themselves with something ever-so interesting on the other side of the bar. Sookie was grateful that they were obviously giving Pam space to make a dignified exit. She was shoving at the large cake and muttering when the door behind it opened and the cake came to a sudden halt, refusing to budge an inch.

Pam fairly snarled, “You’ve got two seconds to move your puny ass before I move it for you.”

“As much as I relish the thought of you attempting to move my puny ass, I highly doubt that you would succeed.” Eric’s voice was unmistakable coming from behind the wall sized cake.

Pam let out a strangled groan as Eric pushed the cake to the side and stood there gape-mouthed, alongside Bill Compton.
The two vampires looked stunned and amazed, which for two vampires whose natural state ran between serious and brooding, was impressive indeed.

“Pam…” Eric began, but couldn’t finish as his eyes traveled down the length of Pam’s outfit and then back up.

Bill on the other hand, didn’t even attempt to hide his laughter at Pam’s discomfiture. He laughed so long and so hard that even matching glares from both Sookie and Eric couldn’t stop him. In fact, Eric’s attempted stoicism faltered in the face of Bill’s total and complete breakdown and they both leaned into one another as laughter shook their bodies. Sookie wasn’t sure they would ever stop and was struggling to keep her own laughter in check. She saw the look on Pam’s face and desperately wanted to try and help her.

“What are you two doing here? This is a girl’s party!” Sookie tried to sound authoritative, but failed due to the bubble of laughter that was slowly forcing its way up and out.

Bill was still laughing but was the first to compose himself enough to speak. “I came to give Jessica a message but it can wait.” Still shaking with laughter, he took one last look at Pam and headed for the door. Just before exiting the bar he pulled something from his pocket and turned, “Say Cheeeeese.” He quickly snapped a picture with his cell phone then dashed out the door. No trace of him, except his laughter echoing behind.

Before Eric could even say anything to Sookie or Pam, Pam rounded on him.

“Your entertainment canceled. I knew you wouldn’t want anything to ruin this for your little pet here,” she jabbed a finger in Sookie’s direction. “You know, you weren’t very clear in your instructions!”

“Honestly, Pam,” Eric struggled for a decent breath as he swiped at the bloody tears that kept seeping from the corners of his eyes. “For the first time in over a thousand years, you have rendered me speechless. I…am…at…a…loss.” Eric was still laughing so hard that Sookie could barely understand him. “I shall enjoy this treat for centuries!”

Without a single word Pam gathered herself up to her full, impressive height, tossed a deadly look towards Eric, then Sookie and then the party goers and walked out of Merlotte’s with her head held high.

Eric was still wiping bloody tears as he turned to follow Pam out the door.

“Excuse me!” a voice called from the back of the party.

Sookie and Eric turned to see Carrie-Ann walking forward.

“We seem to be short some entertainment. I don’t suppose YOU could fill in?”

“I’m flattered. However after what we’ve just witnessed, I’m afraid I’d be a disappointment.” he said, breaking into another fit of laughter as he left the bar.

Disclaimer “Bungled Bunny” is provided for entertainment purposes only and is a parody of the fantasy series, True Blood, and as such is presented here for your amusement. The writer has no relationship/affiliation to HBO, True Blood, or any of the cast or crew of said program nor any relation to Charlaine Harris, or the Sookie Stackhouse novels.

Written By: Reagan Grimes

Bachelorette Graphics Credit:


The Franklin Files — The Disappearance

December 2, 2010

“Hey, Sook, how’s it shakin?” Lafayette asked as he walked through the backdoor into the kitchen of Sookie Stackhouse.

“Lafayette, what are you doing all the way out here? If you’re looking for Tara, she drove into town”

“Well, can’t I come visit you?”

“Well, you can, but since it’s never happened before, except when Tara was in serious trouble and I don’t see her being in trouble in her life or in your mind…oh, you’re here because of Jesús! Of course, you can hide his present here!”

“Sook, I hate it when you do that. Can’t you just pretend you don’t know? Just play dumb and LET. ME. TELL. YOU. STUFF. OKAY?”

“Okay, I’m sorry, Lafayette, Honestly. You know I try but I’m just so happy for you. The two of you are just so cute together.”

“Cute? We’re cute? We may be gay, but don’t be calling us ‘cute’. Damn, girl, don’t you know nothing?” Lafayette was really getting uptight.

“A little touchy are we?”

“YES! This is the first time I ever had to buy a Christmas present that I didn’t just go and pick up from Wal-mart at the last minute.”

“I will really cherish the cardigan you gave me last year, Lafayette.” Sookie said in mocked pain. “You remember, the one you told me you spent hours to find so that it would set off the highlights in my hair? Remember that one?”

“C’mon Sook, you know what I mean. Buying a gift for someone you think you love, especially the first Christmas gift is a big deal.”

“I know,” Sookie sighed and her eyes started to well up.

“Now what?”

“I really thought I’d be celebrating Christmas with Bill this year. I had found pictures of all his family members who’d been born since he’d died, or didn’t die, you know what I mean, in the library and I was going to get them framed for his Christmas present. But now I can’t.” Sookie started crying harder.

Lafayette went and put his arm around her. “Sookie, I’m sure he’s probably seen all those people anyway.”

“I’m not crying because he won’t see the pictures! I’m crying because I won’t be spending Christmas with him!” She punched him in the arm. “Lafayette just go! Go hide your present in Tara’s room!”

“Sookie, I was JOKING! I knew what you meant. I’m just trying to get you to smile a little. But I’ll head up to Tara’s room with this. And to save you the trouble of reading my mind, I got him a bracelet with a little engraving on it, and I know that you know that I know that you know that I know that you know what it says, etc., etc., etc., etc, etc…” and he continued this all the way into Tara’s room.

“Okay, where am I going to put this, so my girl don’t get all up in my business?” He opened up the closet and saw the clothes and shoes piled in the corner and thought that this has got to be the spot. Lafayette started to dig through the mound of stuff until he came to something hard and substantial. He pulled it out and was surprised to find a very large, very old leather briefcase. He opened it up to find a similar looking journal, with the name Franklin Mott on the cover. There was a red ribbon attached to it, to be used as a place keeper. “What is Tara doing with this? Why is she hiding it?” He opened it where the ribbon held the place and began to read:

Tuesday, 10 December, 1855

She is still missing. The men of the parish have set the hounds upon the woods and have been riding all day looking for her to no avail. It’s been horrible. What is to be done? I don’t know if I can go on like this much longer. I haven’t slept now for what? Let’s see, I discovered her disappearance after Sunday evening services. And I was up most of Saturday eve preparing my sermon so it’s been three days now. I can’t focus, I can’t think. I keep going through the details in my head wondering if I may have seen a clue or overlooked a detail in my worry and haste when I discovered she was missing.

Sunday afternoon, I reluctantly left her bedside for evening services, she had looked so wan and pale. In the last week, just like in the case of Mr. Meagles, she seemed to get no better and the bite marks would not heal. In the beginning, both Mother and Gwendolyn, suffered these strange symptoms but she only she continued to decline. I rushed back to her bedside from services, asked after her from the nurse who said she’d been sleeping peacefully and she’d heard nothing from her in the last hour since the nurse had gone in to wipe her brow and clean her up a little in my absence. I went up to the door and knocked and getting no response I went downstairs and waited half an hour, dozing off myself. I felt a shiver run through me when I swore I was awakened by the howl of a wolf. I bolted upstairs and opened the door. And nothing! She was gone! I called for the nurse and the maid and everyone in the house and no one had seen her. It was horrible. We ran outside but there were no signs of anyone, no sounds of wolves, nothing. The nurse and the maid swear that they never were out of listening range and would have heard her try to leave by the front door and the cook was in the kitchen preparing for tomorrow so the back door was also an impossibility.

I must confess I don’t understand it. How does one vanish into thin air? I saw no obvious signs of anything out of place except for her. Oh, how can my heart go on? What about the life of happiness I planned? If she’s dead none of it will come to pass for it will mean nothing to me. Marital bliss, fatherhood, a lifetime of happiness will not be open to me if she does not live to see it. She has got to be found and found alive….

“Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Tara stood in the doorway of her bedroom.
“I think I should be asking you that question. Why are you reading this crazy ass vampire’s journal?” Lafayette was trying to come up with something to take the sting out of being caught.

“Kind of interesting, ain’t it?”

“Girl, yes. Who is she?”

“She who?”

“The ‘She’ that’s missing. Aren’t you reading this thing? Right here where the ribbon is.”

Tara took the journal, “Don’t say another word. I always put the ribbon where I’m going to read next. It just happened to go on a new page, so I don’t know what you’re talking about. Don’t wreck it for me.”

“Well, read it so you can tell me who it is.”

“Lafayette, I’m glad you found the journal, I’ve been dying to talk to someone about it. But I don’t think we should tell anyone else about it. I don’t know if word got out that I had this, let alone that I was reading it, that the vampires would be very happy about it.”

“Damn, girl, just what I needed. One more reason for vampires not to like me. I’m already their ‘favorite’ black, gay, short order cooking, drug dealing, fine-ass looking, now add vampire journal reading, man in Louisiana. Thanks a lot.”

“Are you finished?” Tara blew out an exasperated sigh. “Just keep it quiet. And keep your mind on something else when you’re with Sookie so she doesn’t know it’s here.” Tara started to put the book away.

“And I do that how?”

“Think good things about Jesús”

“Oh, yeah. That’ll work.”

The two of them started down the stairs when Tara asked, “Just what were you doing in my room?”

“Doesn’t’ matter.”

When they got to the kitchen Sookie was still cleaning in the kitchen. Tara told her they both needed to get off to work.

“Okay, my shift starts in two hours, so I’ll see you there.”

Lafayette gave her a big hug and handed her the box for Jesús, “Sookie will you keep this for me until Christmas?”

“What were you doing in Tara’s room all this time?”

“Oh, it doesn’t matter. See you on the flip side.” Lafayette practically ran out of the kitchen.

Sookie thought to herself, “Normally, when people tell me it doesn’t matter, it usually does…

Disclaimer: The Franklin Files are provided for entertainment purposes only and is a parody of the fantasy series, True Blood, and as such, is presented here for your amusement. “Franklin Files” and the various writers that contribute to it, have no relationship/affiliation to HBO, True Blood, or any of the cast or crew of said program nor any relation to Charlaine Harris, or the Sookie Stackhouse novels.

Written By: Sarahfina

Photo & Graphics By: Sarahfina


What’s Cookin’ — Jive Turkey Sloppy Joes

November 26, 2010

Lafayette comin’ atcha here. Youse know that I am an Entrepreneur! I work on da road crew to keep myself lookin’ hot and SEXAY and line my pockets with a little jingle. Then at nights I cook at Merlotte’s bar where all the local necks hang out. So now I’m branchin’ out and I’m goin’ to be Bon Temps version of da BAM! man. I mean no one has more Bam! Bam! Bam! than ‘lil ole me! And I kin cook too! Every week or so I’m going to teach y’all to make food good enough to melt even Nan Flanagan’s heart. Bon Chika Wow Wow – Appetit!

Jive Turkey Sloppy Joes

Child, youse know dat Turkey Day right around da corner. And you know down here, we gon get full off dat fried bird.

We gon have Nettie Mae’s macaroni and cheese, Tara’s green bean casserole, Sam’s potato salad, Arlene’s pumpkin pie, and Jason gon bring da dressing. I don’t know how well he gon do wit dat, but we gon give it a try. It’s his second Thanksgiving without Grams, so you know he gon be missing her.

And you remember what happened last year wit Andy and dat fried turkey. He darned near burned my whole property down, so you just know he ain’t got no invite to bring no food – we just told him to show up and fix himself a plate and we gon handle da cookin.

Heffers, I know y’all finna sit down da day after Thanksgiving to tryna figure out what you gonna do wit all dat leftover turkey. Turkey gumbo, turkey po-boys – well you get da picture. Well, ya boy gonna let you know whatcha can do wit da leftovers and yo family gonna love it.


5 cups of leftover turkey

½ bottle of BBQ sauce

¼ cup of mustard

1/8 stick of butter

2 tablespoons of grape jelly

Creole seasoning

Throw all dem ingredients into dat Crock Pot and mix dem together well. Simmer on low for 5 hours. What youse can do is put dat in ya Crock Pot when you head over to da mall on Friday. By da time you get back in from all dat beatin da pavement, ya food gonna be ready to serve. Let dat mix cook all day and den serve dat on some French bread, toast, hamburger buns, or for you Yankees up north, hoagie buns.

Enjoy & Happy Turkey Day, tricks!

Written By: Arlene Culpepper

Graphics Creation Credits: Steven Easterly

Photo Credit:

To read more yummy Lafayette approved recipes use the search function to find “What’s Cookin‘” in our archives!

Disclaimer: These recipes are provided for entertainment and culinary purposes only and should be made by ordinary humans only with ordinary ingredients. This column is a parody of the Gothic fantasy series, True Blood, and as such, is presented here for your amusement. What’s Cookin’ and the various writers that contribute to it, have no relationship/affiliation to HBO, True Blood, or any of the cast or crew of said nor any relation to Charlain Harris’s or the Sookie Stackhouse novels.


The Franklin Files — The Evergreens

November 23, 2010

“Come and trim my Christmas tree
With some decorations bought at Tiffany
I really do believe in you
Lets see if you believe in me

Santa Baby, forgot to mention one little thing
A ring
I don’t mean on the phone
Santa Baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight…”

Tara arrived at Merlotte’s just in time to see Arlene’s little song and dance on top of the bar as she strung lights over the mirror behind it. As she reached the end, she bent down into Terry’s arms and he met her with a big old hug and kiss.

“Oh, geez,” said Tara. “I didn’t know the Rockettes were performing nightly down here in Bon Temps. Sam better put someone at the door to collect a cover charge for the entertainment.”

“Tara Mae Thornton, just because you can’t get a man to stay around long enough to love you through the holidays, don’t mean you have to ruin it for the rest of us.” Arlene hated all the negativity that sometimes came from her co-workers. “I got me a good man who loves both me and my two kids plus this young ‘un on the way, so we are gonna’ have us a good Christmas and we just want to spread some of the Christmas Cheer we’re feeling if that’s alright with you.”

“Yeah, Tara, we just want to spread some of this Christmas love we’re feeling right now.” Terry went to put his arms around Arlene.

“Not right now, honey, can’t you see I’m all hot and bothered. And you know I hate to be cuddled when I’m all pissed like this. Just go in the back and cook something, would you?” Terry went to the back, his eyes welling up.

“So, Tara, why don’t you  just go sit in a booth and stick your nose in that stupid book your always reading lately, and when you’re done being naughty and ready to be nice you can get your butt behind the bar.” Arlene went to hang some colored bulbs around the order window. “Geez, Terry, are you crying in there? Lord, honey, I didn’t mean nothing, let’s hang that mistletoe. C’mon you big sweet old Sugarbear. You know that girl is gonna to be the death of me. Come on and get out here.”

“What the hell does she know about anything?” thought Tara. “I’d have a man here for the holidays if Eggs hadn’t been shot.” Tara knew this was going to be one hard Christmas and she hated to think about it. She’d stopped by the cemetery on the way here. Sookie thought it would help to have a place to go to visit Eggs and it did sometimes, but not this morning. The weather was as cold and damp outside as it was inside Tara’s heart. Maybe things would look brighter in 1855 so she turned to Franklin Mott’s journal and started to read.

Sunday, December 2, 1855

It is after midnight, and I can’t believe all that has happened. It has truly been the worst night of my life. I am worried beyond belief. It appears now that we were quite wrong about what caused the death of Mr. Meagles. It was not a snake that bit him but some strange sort of blood sucking wolf! I know this because the wolves attacked us this evening and they got a hold of Mother and Gwendolyn! I’m terrified that they will suffer the same deadly fate.  Although I am exhausted beyond belief, I want to write down what happened just in case within this pitiable record I may later find a clue that will hold a key to fix this dreadful situation.

For this evening’s service, we did the annual “Hanging of the Greens.” It is one of my most favorite nights of the church year, and I love the Story of the Evergreens at Christmas.

700 years after Christ’s birth, Winfred of England (later, St. Boniface), was sent to the pagan tribes of Germany. One day, while walking in the forest, he came upon a ceremony where a human sacrifice was about to take place to worship the spirit of the forest. The usual ceremony involved the sprinkling of an innocent child’s blood around an oak tree to please the god of the forest. Winifred begged for the ceremony to be stopped, but his pleadings were ignored. In desperation, he grabbed the ceremonial ax and cut down the oak tree. The anger of the people soon turned to amazement when they saw a small fir tree spring up in the center of the tree to replace the fallen oak. A shaft of light caused each twig to glisten brightly in the darkness and the people listened and believed when Winifred told them the tree was a symbol of the birth of life through Christ.

I always love telling this story, and having the children gather around me as we go from station to station and light the candles against the darkness that have been places in the boughs of evergreens. I’m so good with children and love when they greet me in the parish. How different my home shall be than the one I am raised in! Gwendolyn and I will be such different parents. But, oh! After tonight all that may be lost to me.

After services, Mother invited a few families to our home for a little celebration. She invited Mrs. Meagles, with Mr. Flintwich and Miss Waters in tow, along with Mr. Edgington and Mr. Talbot, who unawares to me, were still in town. Gwendolyn, her guardian Mrs. General, and a few other families from the parish were also invited. Our four carriages were all together in the night. Mother and I were leading the way with Gwendolyn’s party behind us, and the Meagles’ group, in two carriages, were taking up the rear. All was well until out of the woods we heard the strange howl of the wolves we had heard at Mr. Meagles’ wake. The horses immediately became restive, and then a pack of wolves showed themselves and all sorts of mayhem ensued. With horses rearing and our cabriolets going hither and yon, Mother and Gwendolyn both being such slight creatures, must have fell out of the carriages, for the next thing I saw were the wolves dragging them by the hems of their dresses  into the woods.

Forgive my cursing, Lord, but it was bloody awful! You could hear their screams as they were pulled away. I felt completely impotent as I sat motionless in shock. But the men in the Meagles’ carriage immediately sprang to action, and with unbelievable speed ran into the woods. Their screams continued briefly but then ended when, apparently, the men found them and shortly thereafter carried them out.

We rushed them to our home and put them to bed where our housekeeper and chambermaid, under the strong direction of Mrs. General, started their ministrations. Within a short time Mrs. General reported that they had suffered numerous bites, like those suffered by Mr. Meagles, were quite weak, and still did not seem to know themselves.

I am so worried, I barely know myself this night! Except that I am a coward. I let those men run into those woods while I stood in the road, feet firmly planted in a state of shock. Yet, I barely had a chance to move, it happened so fast. I hardly remember them falling from the carriage. In fact, if I look back upon the event, I’d swear those wolves circled only our two carriages and not the last two conveyances at all. I was so busy trying to hang onto the horses. It’s strange to me that the wolves showed not the slightest interest in attacking the horses. They simply took Mother and Gwen after they fell from the carriage. And did they truly fall? I don’t really recall seeing them fall. It was all such a blur. Once this emergency passes, I will have to question Mrs. General more closely. Somehow, I have the feeling I should not trust Mr. Flintwich and his friends.

“You got that right,” said Tara. “I can’t believe I’m actually starting to feel sorry for this guy. I guess he got screwed by the vamps too. But, that doesn’t give him a pass on being totally and completely messed up. Lord, I don’t know what to think! I hate this book!” Tara slammed it shut and walked back inside to find Arlene and Terry decorating the Christmas tree.

“Whaddya’ think Tara? The tree looks real pretty, don’t it?” asked Arlene, obviously hoping to make up.

“It sure beats the hell out of children being sacrificed.”

“What are you talking about? Just stop it. I was going to ask you to put the star on top but you can just forget it.”

“That’s exactly what I’d like to do. Forget it. Give me that star, Arlene.” Tara climbed that ladder and started to sing, “Oh, Christmas tree, O Christmas tree, how lovely are your branches…

To herself, Tara thought, “Maybe if I sing loud enough, I just might forget what happened in those woods.”

Disclaimer: The Franklin Files are provided for entertainment purposes only and is a parody of the fantasy series, True Blood, and as such, is presented here for your amusement. “Franklin Files” and the various writers that contribute to it, have no relationship/affiliation to HBO, True Blood, or any of the cast or crew of said program nor any relation to Charlaine Harris, or the Sookie Stackhouse novels.

Written By: Sarahfina

Photo & Graphics By: Sarahfina


Love Letters –Terry’s Lost and Found

November 21, 2010

Love can be fleeting as a rainstorm, span the length of a man’s life or be as eternal as time itself. It can be so fiery that it consumes your body and soul or live as a warm ember within your beating or silent heart. It can be expressed in words, glances, the timber of your voice, tender gestures, gifts and sacrifices.  But it’s never so succulent and desperate as when it’s Forbitten Love…


I found these while I was cleaning up in the kitchen last night. One was crumpled up in the big chili pot and the other was wedged between the stove and the counter. I saw your name on the bottom, but I didn’t read the whole thing, so don’t worry. If you need more space to store your things so that you’ll have somewhere to put this kind of stuff, I’ll see what I can do – just let me know. I didn’t show anyone, but if I were you, I’d keep better track of these kinds of things. Or at least deliver them, they do no one any good shoved in the kitchenware.

P.S. The photo fell out of the cabinet when I was going to restock the napkins.

– Sam

Dearest Arlene,

Did I tell you how beautiful you are today? Even if I did, I could say it a million times and I don’t think it would be enough. You probably don’t want to hear this, so I thought I’d write it down. Your hair is more blinding than the setting sun and softer than a silk scarf.  I wish I could have a lock of your hair just to pet when you aren’t around. I wish you were near me all the time for a bunch of reasons, but one of them is definitely so that I could run my hands through your beautiful hair. Remember that one time I helped you scrub hair dye out of your shower? That was before we were… you know. I know a lot of people say that eyes are the windows to the soul and all that.  Your soul is so deep and green.  Green has always been one of those colors that comforts me.  You know, makes me feel less on edge. You do that for me, and that’s a big deal. Your eyes are like big bay windows glowing with warmth and light on a winter’s night. Everyone passes by and wishes they could come in, but only the luckiest can. I consider myself one of the luckiest. I get to be with you. Every day I wake up and wonder how I got to be so lucky.  Sometimes I think this is all a dream and I might wake up and be alone again. I was wondering the other night if we had a song. I remember that one night when we were both cleaning up at work when you asked me to dance to that one song. It was a country song and it was about Pina Coladas… I don’t know what it’s called.  I’ll find out, don’t you worry. Inside and out, you are the best person I have ever known. When I am not with you I want to be talking to you on the phone. In fact, I think I’ll call you right now. Have a great day, darling. I’ll see you tonight.

My Love – a poem for you

My love for you is stronger than a concrete foundation,

swifter than a rushing creek,

more constant than the north star,

more comforting than the warmest quilt,

more precious than the rarest gem.

My love for you is always on my mind,

first thing when I wake up,

last thing before I go to sleep,

all day at work,

when I see you here at work, I nearly burn the hamburgers.

I love you Arlene,


Disclaimer: This is a parody of the fantasy series, True Blood, and as such, is presented here for your amusement. “Forbitten Love” and the various writers that contribute to it, have no relationship/affiliation to HBO, True Blood, or any of the cast or crew of said program nor any relation to Charlaine Harris, or the Sookie Stackhouse novels.

Written By:  Jenn Marshall

Header Photo Credit:

Graphics Courtesy Kasandra Rose

True Blood Photo credit: HBO (Screen Capture Courtesy James)


Ask Dr. L — Up in Smoke

November 19, 2010

November 19, 2010

Dear Dr. L,

I am the mother of a beautiful, 11-year old daughter who is quite intelligent. She has always been quite interested in current events and loves to watch the news on TV. She likes Matt Lauer in the morning, Diane Sawyer at dinnertime, but she is CRAZY for Anderson Cooper of CNN’s AC360 when she goes to bed. And that is the problem! Ever since that crazy vampire, Russell Edgington ripped the spinal column out of the anchor during that infamous newscast she has had a recurring nightmare. And, there’s the problem because sometimes her dreams come true. It’s like she has a special power. And I’m wondering if you can tell me how I can help her. In her nightmare, a vampire is trying to rip poor Anderson Cooper to shreds while he is standing on a beach in a hurricane during an earthquake while miners are buried deep within the earth and are being attacked by werewolves. By the way, I don’t even think werewolves exist, do you? What do you make of her dream? Do you think she is losing her mind? Should we warn Anderson?


Mother of a Newsie

Dear Mother,

I can understand your concern. Having a child who is addicted to the news must be a terrible burden to bear. I can’t even turn the crazy stuff on without getting sick to my stomach. Personally, I find FOX news the most horrific of all. I have nightmares myself, of having to say the words, “President Palin”. But then, that wasn’t really your concern, was it?

If you want to believe there are no werewolves and vampires, please go indulge yourself. I won’t try to stop you. Russell Edgington was not real, and he did not do what your daughter thinks she saw (wink, wink). And even if he were real, Anderson Cooper might be a target for him, but not as someone to rip a spinal column out of…do you get my drift, here, Mumsie?

Hope this helps. If not, you may make an appointment and bring your “prophetic” daughter to see me.

Dear Dr. L,

I come from a military family. Generations of my family on both sides have served in the military. My parents have decorated their home in red, white and blue and camouflage. My mother is crazy about all things patriotic. My one and only brother served in the Gulf War and came home suffering from PTSD really bad. For a long time he really didn’t have any good relationships, but in the last few months he met and moved in with a really nice waitress from the bar where he’s a cook. She has a few kids that he’s crazy about, and they’re expecting a baby. My mom wants to give them a shower with a “military” theme. She’d like everyone to bring the baby military type toys (guns, tanks, camo outfits, etc.). She thinks it will be cute and will encourage the baby to follow the in the “family business.” I’ve told her that given my brother’s experience in the war, this is a bad idea but she won’t listen. What can I do?


Army Brat

Dear Brat,

Let me ask you something- have you ever thought of running away from your crazy mother and family? This sound like a trip. Bringing guns and ammo to a baby shower- unreal.

I do treat people with PTSD. A few of them make it. So if you want to bring your brother in, I take cash, check and major credit cards. I can pretty much assure your nusto mother that a baby shower theme like she is planning may send the SWAT team to the house…

But hey, it sounds like a kick in the pants. If you do it, please invite me!

Dear Dr. L,

I am really in love with my new vampire boyfriend. I mean REALLY in love. How badly will it hurt him if I tie him up with silver chains? I don’t want to lose him.


The Old Ball and Chain

Dear OBC,

You are new to my column, aren’t you? Otherwise, you would know I don’t give a rat’s patoot how much this might hurt your boyfriend! But hey, if you don’t want to lose him, why not give it a try? I’ll make a free house call- really!-I’ll even bring the popcorn!

Dear Dr. L

I am a new vampire and so is my girlfriend. We have kind of gotten into some rough sex practices. Nothing too serious, and of course, we heal right away. But we were wondering, can we bite each other? We don’t dare ask our makers?


Vamp on Vamp

Dear Vamps,

As if you and your kind did not already disgust me enough to make me puke, now you ask me about your kinky sex practices! Sheesh!

Go ahead- bite each other. If it causes a problem, call me. I only charge vampires triple my usual fee.

Komon ou ye, Dr. L?

I lives jest outside o’ Bon Temps in a little place I laik to call my gator motel. It ain’t pretty but the roof doan leak.. much! LOL Now heah las’ week I was cleanin out the crawdad trap when dis heah cat da size of a pony comes runnin’ up. I thought I was a seein’ stuff like before when I was in da war back in da sixties. I swear I ain’t teched none o dat whacky tabacki in 40 years, and I haint touched the V since them folks over at Hot Shot been actin out all da times. I knows swamp gaz can sometimes do funny stuff ta ya. It ain’t that I nevah seen a panther down heah. But I nevah seen one dat stopped ta check out ma catch. Dat cat stuck it’s claw down in da bucket I had them ‘dads in and let one grab her claw and then flipped it in the air and et it down whole. I swear, she winked at me then runs off. I knows yer normally doan handle us jes plain vanilla folk but does ya think I be couyon?


What’s up, G?
(I always wanted to say that!)

Well, your query is the most interesting in this batch. First of all, to refer to yourself as “plain vanilla folk” made me roll on the floor and laugh my a$# off! You have not seen this side of normal in many a moon, if ever, my friend!

As for your cat the size of a pony who grabbed your ‘dad and et it down whole- get used to it. Living around Hot Shot you are likely to see almost anything. There are lots of rumors of odd creatures down there that even I haven’t seen. Plus I heard they had a big bust up that way not long ago and burned some serious crops harvests, if you get my drift. And even if you don’t get my drift my guess is you could have gotten the drift from the ‘barn burning’ that went on. Either that cat was real, super real you might say, and you really saw her, or there was a little extra in that swamp gas this week. I have no help for whichever one is true.

Be sure to Submit your questions in the Comments Section below and if you’re unlucky enough Dr. L may choose to answer your question (and send you a bill.. how does she find us? Does she use mail Owls?)!

To view past Dr. L words of wisdom just do a search on Dr. L in the box in the upper left of the page.

Disclaimer: These answers are provided for entertainment purposes only and should not be followed by ordinary humans. This column is a parody of the Gothic fantasy series, True Blood, and as such, is presented here for your amusement. Ask Dr. L and the various writers that contribute to it, have no relationship/affiliation to HBO, True Blood, or any of the cast or crew of said nor any relation to Charlaine HarrisSookie Stackhouse novels.


Fangtastic Childhood Friends

November 3, 2010

Tara’s sitting in Sookie’s kitchen looking at a photo album. The day was shaping up to be a hot one; it was already humid and cloudy even though it was still morning. Tara was waiting for Lafayette to pick her up for a “thing” at Merlotte’s. Sam said something about an employee meeting. She had never had a job long enough to go to a meeting. Besides what could they possibly change that would make Merlott’s better? Maybe ban all wolves and vampires? Unfortunately for her, way down deep in the pit of her stomach, she knew that the supernatural were here to stay.

“Thanks, Sookie,” she mumbled to herself, thinking about all the crazy things that have happened to her lately, starting with Sookie meeting Bill.

Tara stops at the picture of her, Gran and Sookie all together. It’s a photograph that Sookie gave her for her last birthday, and it had meant a lot to her. She and Sookie are about ten in the photo, that was the day they had made three different types of cookies and cupcakes for the church bake sale. Tara had always appreciated Sookie’s Gran. She thought of her like a second mother and Sookie like the sister she never had. Her own family and home life sucked pretty bad, so it was nice to spend some time in a loving home with people who cared about one another.

She turns the page and there is a picture of her, Sookie and Lafayette at Sookie’s house for a sleepover. Originally it was supposed to be just Sookie and Tara, but Lafayette’s mom had left him alone for two days and he was hungry and scared so Gran had picked him up and brought him over.

One time when his mom was gone even longer he’d called Tara to see if he could stay with her and her mother. Tara told him to come over right away. That was the day her mom gave her two dollars to get milk from the market just up the street. She told her mom that the milk cost two dollars and fifty cents, to which she had replied “You make it enough, Tara Mae, ya’ hear.”

She remembered Lafayette snickering when she asked, “What the hell did Mama mean by that anyway?”

Tara turned the page again and a quick shriek escaped her followed with a lengthy giggle. Her fingers rubbed over a picture of her, Lafayette and Sookie when they were about eight years old. Wow, she couldn’t believe how young they looked. Mini versions of themselves frozen in time by a Polaroid. Tara frowned as her mind flashed through all that had happened in their lives since the photo was taken. Her eyes zeroed in on a scab on Lafayette’s left knee and a proud smile slowly spread across her face because she remembered exactly how Lafayette had gotten that scab…

“Come on Tara! I’m not waiting all day for you!” yelled Lafayette from the sidewalk in front of Tara’s house.

She’d just moved two houses down from where she used to live because her mother got into it with the owner of the house and he kicked them out. Of course Tara was expected to do all the work of unpacking but luckily there wasn’t much to pack and then unpack. No TV, no linens, not even a cupboard to fill with food. Tara emerged from the side of the house carrying empty garbage bags.

“I’m comin! Stop your yelling!” Tara lifted the lid to the neighbor’s garbage can and put the bags inside.

“Come on, Tara! I gotta be home early. My mom’s gonna be home tonight.” Lafayette was already walking towards the woods.

“Where are we going anyway?” Tara hollered with her hands on her hips.

“Catch up and I’ll show you. Follow me,” he yelled, not turning around.

Tara hiked up her too-big shorts that they’d just gotten the day before at the Goodwill, then sprinted to catch up to her cousin.

As they made their way further and further into the woods the noise of the neighborhood faded away. With all the wild animals in a Louisiana forest it was eerily quiet and serene. The sun shined through the sky of leaves made by tall sycamore trees, creating a kaleidoscope effect.

Lafayette began jumping to catch drooping branches, attempting to swing from branch to branch, Tarzan style.

“Where’s Sookie?” he asked.

“She’s at her uncle’s. They had to go over there while Gran is out of town,” Tara replied, stepping on fallen branches until they cracked. Just like them; Lafayette wanting to escape above all that lies below and Tara wanting to further destroy that which was beneath her.

“I thought she hated going over there,” Lafayette said.

“She does!” Tara retorted.

“I don’t know,” Lafayette looked hard at Tara, “I think something’s weird about her uncle.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know.” He stopped and a wide grin split his face. “This is what I wanted to show you.”

They came upon a huge tree in the middle of an opening in the woods. They stood and practiced balancing on one of the large roots that lay raised on the ground like a large vein giving life to the tree. Both their heads moved upward trying find an end to the tall tree.

“Whoa…” Tara whispered.

“Help me Tara.” Lafayette bent his leg looking for Tara to give him a boost.

Tara kept staring up at the tree until she found a large hole big enough to hide in about 5 feet off the ground. Just at that moment a small bird flew out of the hole and disappeared among the leaves overhead.

“Wow, did you see that? A bird!” Tara exclaimed and pointed in the direction of the bird.

“Yeah, I know. Give me a boost. I wanna see what’s inside.”

Tara locked her fingers together and turned her palms up then Lafayette was hoisting himself up above her head. He peeked into the hole but told her he couldn’t see anything just before he pulled himself inside. Tara backed away from the tree trying to see what had happened to her cousin. Seconds later, Lafayette’s large brown eyes peered out of the dark hole and he began to sing, “He’s rocking in the tree top all day long, huffin’ and a puffin’ and singing that song…rockin robin!”

“Tweet, tweet, tweetle-leet!” Tara chimed in on the song, “Rockin’ Robin”.

Lafayette suddenly stopped singing and his eyes grew big.

“What’s wrong? Why did you stop singing?” called Tara into the tree.

“I think…” he stopped and wiggled a bit. “I think I’m stuck! Tara!” Lafayette screamed.

“Hold on! I’m coming.” Tara ran up to the tree and tried to raise her hand to reach the hole but she was too short. She ran around the tree and saw Lafayette’s legs dangling out the other side. She tried to scale the trunk of the tree to reach one of Lafayette’s feet but kept falling down before reaching it. She looked around in a panic.

“Tara help me! Mama’s gonna kill me if I’m not there when she gets home.”

“Wait, I have an idea!” Tara ran off further into the woods.

“Tara don’t you leave me! I will never speak to you again if you do! Tara? TARA!!” Lafayette yelled in an obvious panic.

Tara returned with a hollow log and propped it up against the tree. She climbed onto the log then reached up and grabbed both of Lafayette legs and pulled with all her might. She pulled so hard that she accidentally kicked the log from under her feet and it rolled away leaving Tara swinging on Lafayette’s legs. With nothing else to do, Tara used all her weight and began to wiggle and jiggle like a live fish on a hook until finally they were both plummeting to the ground and landing with a resounding thud. Tara couldn’t stop laughing while Lafayette was grabbing his knee.

“Ow! What’d you do that for? I could’a got out on my own!” said Lafayette, investigating the damage to his knee.

Still gripping her stomach and rolling on the ground Tara couldn’t stop herself from laughing. “Oh no you couldn’t! Tara…Tara…TARA!” Tara said, mocking Lafayette. “You were so scared.”

“Well, whatever. Let’s go home. I wanted a bird to take home for a pet but forget it now. I’m never coming back here.” Lafayette stood up and stomped his way out of the woods.

Tara brushed herself off as she watched him huff away. She knew he wasn’t serious. It would be just a couple of hours before he got mad at his mom and knocked on her door to see if she’d wanted to go to explore the woods again. Tara smiled, already thinking of better ways to get in and out of the hole on their next visit.

Even though it was scary at the time, she would give anything to be back there dealing with eight year old drama. It was so simple, so fun, so easy back then. If only she could get her and cousin out of jams as easy today as she had that day.

Just then she hears Lafayette honking on his way up the drive. His car is still idling as he gets out, wearing something like a kilt and a tight t-shirt? She honestly doesn’t know anymore. Tara shakes her head and rolls her eyes then gets up and puts the album away before heading into the living room. Lafayette is standing just inside the front door doing an impatient tap of his boot while pointing to his watch.

“Lets go, hooka. I don’t like being late.”

Tara is about to give her cousin a smart ass response but thinks better of it. She’s just happy to know that she’s got someone who will always be there and especially someone who ‘gets her’.

She smiles and says, “Let’s go.”

Disclaimer: “Fangtastic Childhood Friends” is provided for entertainment purposes only and is a parody of the fantasy series, True Blood, and as such is presented here for your amusement. The writers have no relationship/affiliation to HBO, True Blood, or any of the cast or crew of said program nor any relation to Charlaine Harris, or the Sookie Stackhouse novels.

Written By: Heather Adomeit and Ayondela McDole

Photo Credit:


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