An Emily Carol

Fresh for the holidays, we bring you back to the world of Emily and the Really Sexy Vampyre for a very special story (after the “More”)

An Emily Carol
brought to you by N.K.L. Storm

[editor’s note: the author dropped this standalone episode off at the editor’s house along with a tin of very delicious sugar cookies and a note that read:

“Dear old guy: fans of ‘Emily and the Really Sexy Vampyre’ deserve a special treatment for their goodly holidays, so please be kindly to share this with those fine folk. And just so you’re not confused, the title is not an errata–it’s a hearkening to this guy named Dickens and stuff. Because the story draws on lots of Traditionals as, verily, you shall see!”]

It was the best of times, it was Christmastime, one and all.

Emily Smithingtonson had been having a pretty good go of it ever since the vampyres and mummies asked her to be their Queen, which she totally deserved after all the lousy crap they put her through. She didn’t have any actual duties, though, because it hadn’t been a very adventuresome time. Which meant she pretty much did whatever, I guess.

Mostly she hung out and texted with all her awesome new vampyre and mummy friends, and went on dates with either Nightfin or Tutt, which totally does NOT make her a slut, okay?

“Oh, Smudges! Who should I let take me to the movies this weekend? Nightfin or Tutt?”

Emily’s faithful cat winked twice, which was like words from his eyes, to her. And it was way more than your cat would ever do, we’re sure.

“Okay, Tutt it is!”

Not even school could squelch her vibes anymore, even if her new friends couldn’t ever admit in regular public that she was their Queen, lest their mystycl pwyrs be discovered, leading them all to be dashed upon meddlesome shores. Still, it was pretty sweet.

Like the other day at lunch, her old “friend” Ashley was all like “You’re such a loser!”

And dum-dum Jessica said “You never get dates and stuff!” Then they both started chanting “Emily’s a loser! Emily’s a loser!” But Emily didn’t care, for she knew they’d get their come uppin’s soon. And sure enough, out of nowhere, a potato flew up and whanged them both upsides the head.

And the potato had blue eyes.

And by this, Emily knew it was her fyrst love, Nightfin, what had lobbed the tuber, thereby girding her honor. (And oh, how sexy must have been the performance of that chivalrous huck, we’re thinking!)

“Hey, ow!” yelled Ashley and/or Jessica. And that was that, for this part at least.

Oh, except that you should know that there was snow on the ground, and it looked all Christmassy everywhere, with wreaths and bells and red ribbons and candles and Big Christmas Sale signs and Christmas trees and horse-drawn reindeer Christmas carriages and kids in Christmas scarves and stuff singing old Christmas chorus songs, all together, just like in a Harry Potter movie.

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The date with Tutt was pretty awesome, just like always. He totally took her to that Mexican place in the mall, and they ate, like, twenty baskets of chips, together, as a couple on a date should. (Which was WAY better than stupid breadsticks at that stupid dum-dum restaurant that Ashey has some kind of boner for, but she’s just LAME, and she KNOWS IT.) They even got desert, which was fried ice cream, which was exotic indeed, and which Emily’s mom would totally not ever let her order.

“Mmmmmm…I love this ice cream!” said Tutt, who looked very cute in this Christmas outfit that Emily had picked out for him.

“Mmmmmm…me too!” said Emily, who could now eat milk or cheese or anything she wanted to without any bad stuff happening in her tummy. Because she was a Queen of two peoples. Then Tutt started to look all serious, which kind of made Emily’s guts wiggly anyway, for he had the visage of one who was hunky and meant it.

“Emily, baby…I wish you were my baby,” said Tutt. And with a kind hand did he take out an old raggy piece of parchment and slide it to her, sapiently avoiding the salsa bowls, which were all red and green like Christmas.

Emily opened it up, and at first she couldn’t read it, because it was written all in petroglyphs. But then her Mummy Queen Pwyrs kicked in, and it was no big deal. It read:

“I, Tutt, do hereby invite you, Queen Emily, to be my True Sweetheart Person at the Great Gathering for Mummymas, at midnight on December 25 (of this year).”

“Oh, Tutt,” said Emily with gravitas. “I don’t know what to say.” She knew it was a serious offer indeed, for to be a mummy’s TSP was as good as saying you were their boyfriend. And that’s serious.

“Say yes!” said Tutt, who figured that he had the cake in the bag. Emily squinched up her lips all like “I dunno”, and then made this cute face that was kinda like “well, maybe!”, and then you could tell that she’d made a decision, and she opened her mouth like “ohhhhh”, but didn’t say anything, for she knew that she was about to be interrupted.

“Can I get you more chips?” said the waiter, who for some reason sounded perfunctorily blasé.

“Yeah, totally,” said Tutt. “If my True Sweet Person wants them, that is.”

Suddenly Tutt was torrented by a rain of tortilla chips that totally buried him, and to no one’s surprise the piler-on of crispy triangle-things was none other than the vampyre Nightfin! He was in this big Christmassy Mexican hat, which would make most people look like a dork, but on him it was like his sexy drank a Red Bull.

Nightfin jumped up on the table and started to do this really blasé dance, eyes sexing as he crunching up the chips and knocking the Mummymas invitation to the floor. Everyone in the restaurant was totally laughing at Tutt, who fell out of his chair for some reason. Nightfin quickly handed Emily this awesome gaudy black handkerchief thing.

“Check that out and read it real good–Vampyre Krissmiss is gonna be good!” sang Nighfin, making up the rhyme, extraneously, on the fly. Then he ran off, for he knew that once his half-brother recollected himself, he would most probably get punched in the fruit. The magicsome black cloth hovered up in front of Emily’s face, and it too was a device of inviting. It read:


So, like, come to the great Vampyre Krissmiss Ball, where you shall escort me as Princess Blasé. It’s on December 25 at midsexynight.”

Just like Tutt’s invitation, Emily knew that Nightfin’s was more than a trifling questionnaire, which was just too serious. So naturally she got pretty steamy mad, and she wished that Tutt would suffocate under the big pile of delicious tortilla chips, and that Nightfin would become so sexy that he would explode into a gothic rainbow of awesome clothes.

“This phony baloney needs to stop RIGHT NOW!” Emily shouted out to the world with Queen Pwyr, and her voice was carried on shrapnelly shards of mad so that Nightfin could hear it, too. The heap of nacho chips totally flew away on Emily’s voice gust, and it smacked into this group of skater kids, who were skating on boards, except that the chips got into their wheels, and they all fell down on top of each other in a Christmas pile, and everyone laughed at them. But Emily didn’t even notice, because she was on the warm path. She just kept yelling her not-ugly head off.

“I like you both, and I thought the vampyres and mummies were blasé together, even though you wailed on each other for thousands of years, but by the way you’re acting I guess I was WRONG.”

Tutt’s mouth was going all “buh-buh-buh”, but Emily would have none of it. “You’re just stupid little boys, and I’m done with you all–vampyres AND mummies–…4…EV…AR!!!”

The whole world echoed when she said it, and a text appeared on everyone’s phone and Facebook and everywhere that said “Emily is done with stupid vampyres and mummies and Tutt and Nightfin 4 EVAR, K?!” You probably saw it and thought it was some dumb spam, but it wasn’t. It was a Declaration of Whatever.

Then Emily left Tutt in the dust and walked out into the decked mall hall, replete with candy canes and stuff that looked like snow. The skater kids who were still outside the Mexican restaurant all gave her high fives, and then Tutt ran out and was all like “Buh!” again. But Emily’s mad had an eerie glow power, and when she stared at him, he knew that she was going to knock over his sand castle.

“Buh HUMBUG!” she said, and it was fresh high fives all around once more. Emily turned her back on Tutt, and metamorphically on Nightfin, and strolled off to try on shoes. Which she did. And she totally treated herself to these tasty pink leather booties which she’s wanted to buy for, like, forever.

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On her way home, Emily was totally bumming. Not even the fact that her stupid home town redecorated itself to look like ancient England cheered her up.

“Fancy old England-looking things–buh humbug! Olde houses and cobbled stones and Christmas trees–buh humbug! Candles and chimney sweeps and people drinking tea with one pinkie lifted up–buh humbug!”

Then in front of her house she heard these chains rattling, which ghosts do sometimes, in England. Emily was kind of scared, and then this short kid was floating in the air in front of her.

“Emily Smithingtonsoooooon!” he said. “I am the ghost of Tiny Tim, and I’m here to tell you some crazy crap that you won’t believe!”

“Buh humbug! You’re just some stupid character from some stupid movie by Dickens or something,” said Emily. “Why should I listen to you? You’re not sexy or blasé or hunky or ANYTHING.”

“I’m here to show you the future, or something,” said Tiny Tim. “Here we go.”

“Oh, okay,” said Emily, who didn’t have anything better to do, we’re thinking.

And they went.

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So everything was all misty and colorful and stuff, and Emily felt like she was on some kind of loopy water slide thing, but without the water. Then the feeling stopped, and she and Tiny Tim reappeared on the alter of this really fancy wedding, the kind where they have a chocolate fountain.

“Awesome! This must be my wedding!” said Emily, but she didn’t see anyone she knew out in the crowd, or in the bridal party, who were all up on the stage-thing already. And instead of a Minister, there was some kind of Priest, or maybe it was a Jew Priest or something. But it definitely wasn’t the type of wedding that Emily would have.

“What’s going on?” Emily asked Tiny Tim. Then she noticed that there were TWO grooms at the alter–and they were Nightfin and Tutt! “Oh, gross!” said Emily. “They’re totally brothers!”

“Shhhh!” administered Tiny Tim. “Here come the brides.”

“Ohhhh,” said Emily, who realized it was a double wedding. But Nightfin and Tutt marrying each other would have been better than what actually happened.

“Here we come!” said two stupid voices that Emily recognized. For it was her old so-called “friends”, Ashley and Jessica.

“NOOOOOOOooooooooooooooo!” shouted Emily, but no one could hear her because she wasn’t a corporal. “This can’t be! Damn your love, damn your lies!”

“I guess this is great, right?” said Tutt to Nightfin. Oh, hunky Tutt! Don’t you know that Jessica can’t do the geometry of Ancient Egypt AT ALL?

“Maybe. I don’t know,” said Nightfin, who looked to Emily like a caged, wounded, blue-eyed raven-colored black bird. Don’t do it, Nightfin! Jessica might have big boobs but she picks her nose ALL THE TIME.

“It doesn’t matter, I guess,” said Tutt, and you could see that his hunk-flame was retiring quickly.

“Yeah,” said Nightfin. “After Emily left us, and the vampyres and mummies had no Queen, it was totally game over, and we’re the only two left who didn’t die or end up totally bummed out for good.”

Ashley and Jessica reached the alter, and the Priest-type guy said some weird mumbo-jumbo, and Emily was irrevocably powerless to stop it.

“Oh, Tutt and Nightfin!” said slutty Ashley and Jessica as they got their big, stupid rings. “We’re so happy that you’re going to love us forever and ever and EVER!”

“Whatever,” said Tutt and Nightfin, who looked at each other, and you totally knew they were thinking how much they wished they were marrying Emily.

“Ashley and Jessica, you may now kiss your hunky and blaséxy husbands,” said the Priest-guy. “And then you’ll be totally married to them–and it’s no givebacks because that’s the way it works in this religion, so it means that Emily can NEVER marry them, NO MATTER WHAT!”

Ashley and Jessica moved in with their skanky lips, but Emily couldn’t take it any more.

“Take me away, Tiny Tim!” cried Emily.

And they went.

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[editor’s note: although this next segment appears to have been written by a different author, and the editor has his suspicions as to whom it might have been, out of respect for the author (who had been promised that her work would never again be tampered with by the editor) the segment is being presented as-is.]

Emily and Tiny Tim were transported straight into the middle of a BATTLEFIELD! There were transforming tanks and guns everywhere, and laser guns, and this ship that could go on water OR land.

“Oh, no!” said Tiny Tim, because he was a wimp. “What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know!” said Emily, because she was stupid, and only cared about kissing boys, and clothes, and other stupid crud like that. Then this big rocket came right at them, and it completely BLEW TINY TIM AWAY!

“AHHHHHHH!” he yelled as he was vaporized into a MILLION PIECES.

“Oh, no!” said Emily, because there weren’t any lame vampires around to help her, and mummies are COMPLETELY STUPID. But Emily saw this jet fighter come streaking across the sky, and it fired these plasma rays that knocked out all the bad guys around her. Then the jet transformed into this really cool robot guy who looked pretty familiar.

“Let’s get you out of here,” said the hero as he blew away a big mecha-spider. “This is no place for stupid girls.”

“Randy, is that you?!” said Emily, who was pretty surprised that her brother was in her story.

“Yeah, it’s me,” said MechaRandy. “Now go jump into that mecha-jeep before you get killed!” Emily started to run to this cool jeep, which had spikes all over and at least three plasma screens inside–AND FOUR ON THE OUTSIDE.

“You can’t rescue her–that’s my job!” said this guy who thought he was really cool, but wasn’t. He was skinny with straight black hair, really pale, and looked like he was going to CRY.

“Nightfin! My love!” shouted Emily, who began to pick at her hair (which was all messed up) and straighten her clothes out.

“I don’t know where you came from,” said MechaRandy, “but if you don’t get out of here right now, I know where you’re going–STRAIGHT TO HELL! Now beat it before it’s too late!”

“No way! I’m cool and emo! And–”

–and those were the last words he ever said, because he got snuffed by this lame robot teddy bear that even a BABY could have blown away.

“NOOOOOOOOO!” shouted Emily, who got swept up by an evil mecha-unicorn. But MechaRandy knew he’d have to save her later, because the MalTronic Warriors’ MoonWrecker was coming up over the horizon, and he was the only guy who could kill it!

“Sorry sis,” he said. “But it’s time for me to fly!” And MechaRandy shot up into the air, and into space, and commanded all of his mecha-warriors to concentrate their fire on this one hole on the surface of the MoonWrecker, because he knew that that was its weakness. For a while nothing was working, but then MechaRandy remembered that he had one last Thermal Chaos Bomb left, and he fired it…

…and the MoonWrecker BLEW UP!

“Sorry, MalTronic Warriors–it looks like YOU’RE wrecked!” he said, and then all of the bad guys began to explode, including the mecha-unicorn that took MechaRandy’s sister, because their power came from the MoonWrecker.

Then the battle was over, and MechaRandy got a medal for saving the world. And no one ever picked on him again.


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[editor’s note: in the interest of maintaining the author’s presumed artistic vision, the editor will leave it to the reader to interpret the incongruities between the action that took place in the previous segment and the final one, presented below.]

Emily and Tiny Tim reappeared next to a podium at the top of the steps of the Lincoln Statue in Washington, DC. There were, like, a billion people stretched out as far as the eye could see–but it wasn’t just people. There were vampyres and mummies, too. And they all looked pretty darned happy, and everyone was singing that Green Day song that’s all like “I had the time of our lives”.

“What is this? When is this?” asked Emily. Then this really sexy, totally blasé woman holding a cat walked up to the podium. “Who is that, Tiny Tim?”

“Shut your pie hole and you’ll find out in a second,” said Tiny Tim, and sure enough stuff started to happen. This loud voice came out of nowhere and enjoined the whole crowd.

It said, “Hey everybody…please pay attention, stop texting, and take the gum out of your mouths. For the new President of the World is about to speak and stuff. Take it away, President Smithingtonson!”

“No way!” said Emily, for verily she could tell now that the woman was totally HER. In the FUTURE!

“Totally,” said Tiny Tim. “Now pay attention, because you’ll learn a lesson from this, or something.” The new Emily had on the most awesome dress there could ever be, but she looked totally serious, like a vice principal. But blasé.

“I had this dream. I had an AWESOME dream,” began Emily. “I dreamed that we all went to the moon–humans and vampyres and mummies. For the only thing we had to fear was being afraid of stuff, but we weren’t. Because I stayed friends with everyone, and led them. And now the moon is totally the 51st State!”

The crowd went bonkers, because everyone loves the moon. And it was all because of Emily. Who kept speaking. “And that’s why you made me President of the World, for which I am utmost thanking you: thank you. And now you’re all invited to join me and my cat Smudges and my family for dinner at the Hard Rock Cafe!”

Now everyone totally lost their crackers, and fireworks started to go off, and these cool planes flew overhead, and someone handed the future Emily a trophy that had the moon on it. The crowd started to surround them, and real Emily worried she’d be crushed, but Tiny Tim assured her that the two of them were just discombobulated bodies, as far as the future was concerned.

Things started to get all foggy and colorful, and she could see future Emily take someone’s hand, but she couldn’t tell if the hand was hunky or blasé.

“Wait, Tiny Tim! I want to see who my future family is!” said Emily, but Tiny Tim would have none of it, and they were gone.

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“So what’s it gonna be–Vampyre Krissmiss Ball…” said a voice that emanated below the most wondrous sexeyes of Nightfin.

“…or the Great Gathering for Mummymas?” said an entirely hunkworthy intoner (who was Tutt).

Emily realized she was back at Mexican restaurant, at the moment before she’d dismissed them with great justice. She knew it because the skater kids were still slacking outside, and Tutt was under a heap of tortillas. For a second she had to batter back her basic instinct, which was to fry their bacon all over again. But then a ghosty voice encamped into her head.

“Remember the stuff…that could happen!…if you haul off on them forever!….ooooooooh!….”

So Emily just took a deep breadth, and her mind came up with the smart for her. All the people sitting and standing around in their Christmas clothes were listening in, because they knew Emily was about to dispose of some wisdom.

“Nightfin, am I not your Queen?” she asked, with great regal.

“Of course, my lady.” Sexy.

“And Tutt, are you not also one amongst those who do also doest call me their i.e. Queen?”


“Well, that settles it then, doesn’t it?” said Emily with sneaky-smart.

Now both of her smoulderous woo-pitchers were like “buh-buh-buh”, which literally set a light bulb off over her head.

“Then from now on there will be ONE ball for the vampyres and mummies–the Buh Humball!”

Everyone in the whole Christmas mall started cheering and hooting and making a Christmas scene and engaging in horseplay, for it turns out that everyone there–including those skater kids–were all vampyres and mummies. And they recognized that Emily had just assured in a brand new eon of epochs!

Then Tiny Tim appeared, and he totally morphed until he was none other than Moonglow Daggarhart/Papa Tutankhamun!

“Dad!” said Nightfin and Tutt in their respectful ways.

“Well, well, Emily Smithingtonson,” said Papamoon Daggar-hamun. “You’ve pulled a cat out of the hat once again, and proved you have the worthies of a Queen.” He bowed low, which was both hunky and blasé. Everyone else bowed, too, most especially her loverboys.

“But you still haven’t chosen,” they said, deep ponderous eyes and beefy strong arms both vying for her heart-light. But Emily had an answer waiting in the wind beneath her wings.

“As Queen of the Buh Humball, I get to hang out and dance with anyone I want to!” she declared, and everyone cheered. Except for Nightfin and Tutt, of course, who just shrugged and smiled all like “Ohhh, well! I guess that’s how the cookies crumble!”

But Emily cheered them, verily, by giving them each a peck on the cheek, and everyone was all like “Ooooooooh!” Then she took them both by the arm and arm, and out into the mall and beyond they went…into the future.

btw Santa Claus is a vampyre.


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  1. Posted December 21, 2010 at 4:35 pm | Permalink

    Read it to me, Uncle Storm? Pretty please? It is ever so grand listening to it in your Storyteller Voice. 😀

  2. Posted December 21, 2010 at 9:38 pm | Permalink

    My day is officially made. Thanks, N.K.L. Storm. 🙂

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