text: [Themes: fan fiction]
  
  "I haven't smoked in over a dozen years." You say. "I look forward to being high again."
  
  That having been said, you rise to your feet and follow them out the door into the dimly lit parking lot. The Creature from the Black Lagoon leads the way around the lot towards the back of the bar.
  
  "Where are we going to smoke, Creature from the Black Lagoon?" Wolfman asks him.
  
  "I figure the most inconspicuous place to partake in our inhalation of THC would be around back. There appears to be a wooded section back there which should provide ample coverage from any passer-byes." He says.
  
  "Sounds good to me." Wolfman says.
  
  "Nnnnng," says Frankenstein.
  
  "If the cops come you can give all the dope to me. I'm invisible. They'll never find me." You say.
  
  All of you laugh at this.
  
  You get to the back of the bar and see the deep shadows of the wooded area behind the bar. Frankenstein leads the way into the utter blackness and the rest of you follow suit.
  
  He leans his back up against a tree and holds the flame of the lighter to the end of the blunt. After a few puffs he has the thing lit and it gets passed around between all of you until it goes out.
  
  After only a few tokes, your eyes feel like they are resting on cotton and your mouth feels as though it is filled with it. You feel a little jittery; not with energy, but rather with an unexplained nervousness. You feel like you can do anything you want, but you lack the motivation to actually follow through.
  
  The Wolfman has the blunt in his hands and attempts to puff on it, but finds that it has gone out. "Let me see the lighter." He tells Frankenstein.
  
  Frankenstein hands Wolfman the lighter and the lycanthrope sparks the device to life and holds the flame to the end of the half smoked blunt.
  
  It happens so fast that you are caught completely off guard. The flame misses it's intended target and catches the hair at the side of the Wolfman's face. He erupts into a screaming and writhing mass of enflamed monster, and the smell of burning hair threatens to choke you.
  
  Thankfully the Creature from the Black Lagoon reacts before it is too late. He throws the writhing inferno of a monster to the ground and begins rolling him. Frankenstein and his wife stand there stupidly, watching the Creature from the Black Lagoon save your long time friend.
  
  Eventually the flames go out and the Wolfman stands up, his hair still smoldering in a few places. "Holy shit!" He says, out of breath.
  
  "At least we won't smell like pot." You say.
  
  "Unnnnnnnnnng," says Frankenstein.
  
  "Thanks for helping me out, you fucking dicks." He says to you and Frankenstein. Frank just shrugs his shoulder.
  
  "Hey, I helped." You say, lying like the dishonest bastard that you are. How the hell would they know any different?
  
  "Oh." He says. "Can we go back to the bar now? I really need a drink."
  
  "What happened to the blunt?" You ask.
  
  "Man, fuck you." He says, trying to shoulder past you, but just putting himself off balance and on coarse for a collision with a tree.
  
  "Seriously," You say, "Did you smoke it all? Or did it smoke you?"
  
  Frankenstein, his wife, and the Creature from the Black Lagoon laugh at your jest, but the Wolfman doesn't seem at all pleased. He leaves the group of you in the wood.
  
  The four of you walk back to the bar laughing at everything like a pack of adolescent boys in your first sex education class.
  
  When you get back into the bar, Dracula walk up to your troupe.
  
  "Creature from the Black Lagoon," He says, "there is something vhich I have just recently discovered that I feel you should know."
  
  "What would that be?" the Creature from the Black Lagoon responds. Frankenstein and his wife walk to the bar to order drinks.
  
  Dracula leans in close to the Creature from the Black Lagoon, speaking in a low tone so that no one else can overhear what he is saying.
  
  But you're invisible and could easily get close enough to hear what secret is being passed between the two of them.
  
  > mind your own business, go see if you can get someone to get you another beer.
  Fuck it. It's none of your business what secrets they pass, right? Just because you're invisible doesn't mean you have to be a nosey bastard.
  
  You make your way back to the table where Wolfman is just sitting down beside the Frankensteins, wondering not for the first time why the government never thought to make you a secret spy agent. They trusted that fucking incredible Mr. Limpit guy! He was a fish, for Christ's sake! A fish! Why the hell didn't they consider an invisible man for the job? But alas, you come to the realisation that the government is stupid and ignores opportunities all the time.
  
  You reach the table lay a hand on Wolfman's shoulder. "Hey, Wolfman," you say.
  
  Wolfman damn near jumps out of his seat. "Jesus Christ, Invisible! Don't fucking do that to me!!"
  
  "Sorry," you say. It seems you always have to apologize for being invisible. It's not like you asked to be invisible. Damn it, that pisses you off.
  
  "Get me a beer, would you?" You ask.
  
  "Get it your damn self." He replies.
  
  "You know they won't serve me." You tell him.
  
  He sighs and stands up. "All right," he says, "But you're buying me one too."
  
  "Fine," you say, slapping a five into his open palm.
  
  As the Wolfman walks up to the bar you hear the Creature from the Black Lagoon laughing loudly and uncontrollably beside Dracula who only shakes his head. They make their way back to the table just as a group of four blonde headed children enter and make their way to the bar.
  
  > ask Creature from the Black Lagoon what's so damn funny.
  You walk up to the Creature from the Black lagoon as he is about to sit down at the table. "Creature from the Black Lagoon," you say, "What'd Drac say that was so funny?" You ask.
  
  Creature from the Black Lagoon smiles broadly and chuckles a bit under his breath before he replies. "I'll tell it to you the way he told it to me." He says.
  
  "Look around you, Invisible, and count the women."
  
  You do as he says and look all around the bar. There is Frankensteins' wife, a tall woman with a bad wig at the bar, and... Wait a minute, that's not a woman!
  
  "We're in a queer bar." He says to you just as the realisation dawns upon you.
  "You think maybe the Mummy knew about this?"
  
  You laugh a full and hearty laugh. The Mummy picked a queer bar for the reunion. Did he know about it? Did he plan this as some way of telling you all that he is gay, or perhaps because he figured the calibur of freak amongst your group would be less likely to be noted in a gay bar?
  
  Either way it's funny.
  
  "I hope he wraps his dick," Dracula says. More laughter ensues.
  
  Then those mysterious kids that you watched enter the bar make their way over to your table. That's when you recognize them and thier alien blonde hair and pale eyes.
  
  They are the Children of the Damned. They have always given you the creeps. Most of the other monsters act scary, these kids are scary. They're freaks. Bastard children of alien fathers.
  
  You suddenly feel very uncomfortable and almost sick to your stomach. You don't feel much like hanging around here anymore. Not with those fucking kids here. Fuck them!
  
  > leave. You're not hanging out in a queer bar with a bunch of freakish alien kids.
  Fucking Village of the Damned kids and that stupid fucking worthless Blob. They ruin everything. Always have.
  
  You take your Newcastle's down in four quick gulps and wish your monster friends well.
  
  "Vhat?!" Dracula says, "You're leaving so soon?"
  
  "Yeah," You reply, "I'm not hanging around with a shapeless mass and a bunch of kids."
  
  "Very vell." Dracula says, "It was nice seeing... er... talking to you again."
  
  "Same here." You say. "See y'all later."
  
  They all wave and say goodbye and you storm off for the door, slipping past the outer edge of the Blob.
  
  The night air hits your face. It is a little chillier than when you first arrived at the bar, and your breath comes out in a fog.
  
  You walk the streets alone, ranting internally about the aggravation you are experiencing by the arrival of such lame silver screen movie stars to a true movie legends reunion party.
  
  It's not that the Village of the Damned movie wasn't awesome and eerie; it's just always bothered you that the kids were exactly the same in real life. There was absolutely no acting on their part. They just stood there and let their eyes glow and fucked with the other actors' heads. Dracula was acting when he was all scary on screen. Same thing with the Wolfman, the Creature from the Black Lagoon, and Frankenstein. They were actors. Talented too. They didn't just stand around with British accents and give out migraine headaches with glowing eyes to get whatever they wanted.
  
  You were a hell of an actor too. You were all invisible... and... Okay, so maybe it bothers you a little that these fucking kids were always scarier than you. What the fuck, they're kids! You wish you could give people migraine headaches by looking into their eyes. Of course your "victims" would never be able to see your eyes because you're invisible. How the fuck is something that can't be seen supposed to be frightening, anyway?!
  
  Fuck those stupid kids! Fuck them right up their British asses! Or is it arses?
  
  Another thing that's bothering you about those kids, now that you think about it, is that they haven't aged a bit. They're still kids. How the fuck does that happen?
  
  And then there's the Blob. That thing is a fucking loser. It's just... there. It doesn't do anything. One time someone passes it a joint and it absorbed. No one ever got that pot back, ever. The Blob is a shapeless, formless, greedy bastard.
  
  You hate the Blob. And its movie sucked too.
  
  Suddenly you hear the roar of an engine inches form you. You turn in time to see the grill on the front of semi barrel into your face.
  
  Everything goes black. You wonder if you will be visible in heaven...