The Vampire Jersey Shore re-write

Author’s Note: Finally I finished re-writing this story. It took longer than expected. Mostly because I don’t really like re-visiting old ideas. However, I read online a good article about getting in the habit of daily writing. You need to make small commitments that are impossible not to do. Like deciding that you will write at least 10-minutes a day. As that gets easier, and more routine, feel free to increase the amount of time. Anyways, keep it simple stupid, that’s how I finally finished this thing.  This of course needs further re-vision, but it is a start.


“The big reveal of season 20 of the mega popular reality television show The Jersey Score, was that handsome lothario, Tony was in fact a 200-year-old vampire hailing from the island of Sicily. The bloodsucker revealed his morbid past after becoming noticeably uncomfortable, when spray-tanned slut, Shamwow decided to go vegan and disposed of all the red meat in the house.

    After brutally raping Shamwow on set he had to be talked down by the other male cast members to not  dismember her body with his supernatural strength. Tony who claims to be a lover and not a bloodthirsty masochist bent on worshipping Satan looked noticeably embarrassed by the incident. Shamwow despite having undergone the painful public sodomy on camera did not file charges. Media exposure received by the episode has boosted ratings for the show that until recently had been in decline. “

    – The Hollywood Scandal

    I grew up in Sicily where my father was a wealthy estate owner, and could provide his family with just about anything they could ever desire. He had five sons and three daughters, and I was the youngest. With the money and political connections that my father had acquired, throughout the island as well as Europe, us men were given a privileged life that was untouched by wars with Germans, French and the mainland.

I lived what would be considered a fast life for someone living in the 1800s. A stable of horses, and a number of female household employees to keep me occupied in my young adult life. When I was 25-years-old while visiting a brothel in the south of France I received the mark of Satan in the form of two small bites given to me by a whore name Margót. At first I thought the woman was being quite feisty but on second inspection and a fever that caused hallucinations I had realized what had happened. Three days later I found myself locked away in a box under the earth. I was mistaken for dead and buried as any common corpse would be.

Upon freeing myself from the earth I frightened my family with my disheveled and soiled appearance. My mother went into shock after seeing her now undead son standing in front of her, and in complete confusion about his current situation. She fainted and in her weakened state I got my first taste of blood. I drained my mother of her life force allowing her to take my place so that I might live.

The murder of my mother  is by far my biggest regret, and despite the forgiveness of my family who shielded me and hid me from the world, I could hardly live with myself. I left the family estate to roam the world eventually finding myself two-centuries later living in New Jersey.

My story at this point is old news. People know about how I and another vampire massacred the cast and crew of the show. The footage like any  good snuff film is floating around the internet. Did I rape, murder, behead, disembowel and engage in necrophilia with the people on set that day? Well the answer is pretty much yes to all those things. However, I wasn’t aware the body was dead when I initially fucked it. The few we did leave alive have shared their story. It is no doubt a horrible thing we did, and is something almost entirely out of character for me.

I wanted to share my thoughts though, share my side of what happened, and how it ever got to the point that it did.

Since moving to the Jersey Shore several decades ago, I had cultivated a personality, and an image as the resident party boy. I’d change my name each decade or so to keep the vampire hunters off of my trail, and to continue living a life filled with sex, drugs, and debauchery. When I first moved here I was still using my Italian name – Antonio. I eventually became known as Antoine, Tommy, Tom, and finally Tony.

When I say the wholesale death of the cast is out of character for me I truly mean it. Those actions are quite unusual for me, it was a violent outburst that was motivated by passion for my co-conspirator. That isn’t to say there weren’t periods in my life filled with madness and death. Vampires, unlike what the hunters have led so many to believe, are not the awful violent creatures they have portrayed us to be. However, the nature in which we must acquire our food is somewhat horrible. Also, the fact that we are nearly invulnerable to just about anything can make some vampires drunk with power.

I wasn’t one of those vampires, and I’m still not for the most part. Really I just like to have a good time, which is why I was attracted to that area in the first place.

Aside my thirst for blood, I also had an addiction to pussy. It was almost at an unlimited supply for me as well. I had managed to use the fortune I’d inherited two centuries ago to create a number of successful small businesses. I was rich, and with my money, I could always find some pretty young thing willing to swallow my seed. These also were victims, not that I killed them, but biting was always part of the deal when fucking me. It was an aggressive sexual act, and some girls got off on it. I’d bite them right on the inside of their legs before licking away on their cat. I was swapping them pain for pleasure, it was a deal most were willing to make.

I’m getting ahead of myself though. You will have to forgive me.

When I first joined the cast it was in 2014, I had been a successful restaurant and bar owner, I owned about four or five of these things, and owned several rental properties. I did very little work at that time in my life, I had set up all of the work to be handled by other people. I would collect a fat paycheck and would spend it having a good time.

It was on a Thursday night that I found out about the casting call for the show. I was snorting cocaine off of the naked body of a small chested, brown haired, college student on spring break. Her name was Mary, she said she was in love with me, those emotions were probably not genuine. It was probably the E talking. Just moments earlier she had agreed to give me a blow job for the small amount of ecstasy I had on me.

However, while riding high on the chemically induced cupid’s arrow I’d given her, she told me of an audition for a show. The show was one I was vaguely familiar with, The Jersey Score, it was one of those bad MTV reality T.V. shows. She wanted us to go together. The girl was a master with her lips, I told her I’d do it if she blew me again. That evening I managed to get her to swallow my load for a second time, but she could hardly remember telling me anything about the show after we came down from the drugs. That didn’t bother me though, because my interest was now intrigued.

It was a sunny afternoon when I auditioned, I woke up early to go. This is the part that confuses most people, the very fact that I walked out into the day to audition. All the Bram Stoker shit about the sun and garlic is pretty much bullshit. I’m Italian, I love garlic, especially in spaghetti. As for the sunlight thing, that is a half truth, the sun is irritating, but it won’t kill ya.

Either way, it was a lot of yada yada, they asked me some questions and I answered. I showed off my abs, and acted as douchey as I possibly could. I was perfect for the part they told me, they told me they’d be in touch.

That evening, I was off to the bar for a drink and to see who I was going to bring home for a late night snack. I spotted one of the people that had interviewed me, her name was Monica, she was in charge of casting for the show. She was in her late thirties, almost forty, with blond hair and what looked to be a fairly tight body. She was a mother of two, and had boring sex with a husband she was no longer attracted to, but still loved. She missed the days of her youth, drunken nights with friends, doing drugs, and having hook ups with strangers.

I didn’t need to fuck Monica, I didn’t need the fame and if anything it could draw dangerous attention to me. I was a vampire after all, most people at that time didn’t believe we existed, the ones that did wanted us dead. However, it was narcissism, I liked the idea of being on T.V. and in the magazines.

When I saw Monica though, I could tell she was going to be an easy target. One night with me and I knew I could convince her to put me on the show.

She was acting like prey the moment I saw her, she was alone at the bar being dangerously chatty with the people there. She was a few drinks in, and I could overhear her talking to Norman, the bartender. He was telling him she was dissatisfied with her sex life, that she needed a big strong man, the type of man that could give it to her rough and deep.

Norman was my employee, we were at my bar, he knew I had a thing for strange tail. He’d let me know about potential girls who might want to ride my pole. This evening he came over to let me know about Monica, but there was no need, she was letting everyone in that bar know, based on her actions, that she was looking to be fucked.

I approached Monica, I reintroduced myself to her, she said she remembered me. She remembered the outline of my penis in my pants, she remembered my hard muscles, and my tanned body.

I asked her, “So do you wanna touch it then?”

Her reply, “Do I! Absolutely, but you see I’m married. Married to a man who has become a fat piece of shit not worth riding anymore. I really shouldn’t.”

She wanted so desperately to be a whore again, she refused though, mostly because she was trying to be the grown up society had wanted her to be.

I sat down next to her at the bar. I then took her hand into mine. She didn’t refuse this gesture, I then moved it to the outside of my pants where my crotch was. She began to rub me through my pants.

“I shouldn’t be doing this,” Monica said. “I’m a wife, I have a family. I’m just so damn unhappy all the time though.”

She was pouring out her soul to me, and I signaled to Norman without words to give her another drink. She takes the drink, throws it back and continues to speak.

“It’s just that I never thought I’d be so, so… so domesticated. I know that it is the proper thing to do, but I just miss being a crazy little girl, snorting coke and getting gorilla fucked by some hot guy I’d only just met,” she said.

I looked her dead in the eyes, I said nothing, the intensity of my staring was making her uncomfortable. I got up from the bar and told her to follow me, and she obeyed.

We walked to the back room where my office was at the bar.

“Should we be back here,” Monica asked, not realizing I owned the place.

“It shouldn’t be a problem,” I said to her, walking behind my desk to retrieve some cocaine I had stashed there. “I own the place.”

I pulled a small baggy and laid out two lines of cocaine. One for her and one for me. I took a $50 bill, rolled it up and snorted the line. I then handed her the rolled up $50 and told her to do the same.

The sight of drugs was making her uncomfortable.

“Look I really shouldn’t,” she said, motioning with her hands to keep the stuff away from her.

“Look you just said you miss cocaine,” I replied.

“I know I did, but I’m a mother and…”

I cut her off.

“You keep saying you’re a mom and how unhappy you are. For one night why don’t you stop doing mom shit and instead do the shit you wanna do. Don’t you think you deserve a little fun from time to time?”

She agreed she did and she then took the $50 and went to do a line.

“Goddamn that was good,” Monica said as she came up from snorting the drugs.

“I have more,” I told her. “We can do more cocaine.”

“Can we,” she asked.

“Absolutely,” I replied. “But for each line you do you have to take an article of clothing off. So what’s it going to be pants or shirt?”

She gave me a mischievous look and took off her shirt revealing a stunning pair of boobs in a black lace bra.

“Now where is my next line at?”

She did another line and this time she was down to her panties. I asked her if she wanted more.

“No I think I have something else in mind though.”

She then got down on her knees, undid my pants, and pulled my cock out of my boxer shorts.

Staring up at me she said, “I want you to fuck me rough like the little whores you normally fuck, I want you to leave bruises so my husband has to ask me what happened, I want to drown in your cum.”

Ok the last part I made up about drowning in my cum, but the rest I swear she said. We had rough and wild sex, I left hand marks on her ass from my slapping her, choke marks left around her neck, her eyes watered as I force fed her my cock.

I had her laying across my desk, my hand around her throat, while fucking her I asked, “So do I get the part on the show or what?”

“Yes! Yes! Yes,” she screamed. I then pulled out and shot my seed up on to her belly and parts of her chest.

“I’ll be expecting that phone call,” I said. I then pulled on my pants and shirt and walked out the door.

I didn’t hear back from Monica or anyone else on the show for two days. Perhaps I wasn’t getting the part. Then on Monday I get a call, it was from Roger, he was one of Monica’s underlings, he said she had asked him to call me. I asked if I got the part, Roger hesitated for a moment, he was trying to play it off like he had bad news to tell me.

“Are you sitting down,” asked Roger.

I wasn’t but I told him I was.

“Well, you see, lots of people audition for the show, but not everyone gets it,” he paused. “But you made the cut, we want you to meet us next Saturday at Little Italy for a meet and greet with the rest of the cast. Can you make it?”

I told him I could, and that I would see him there.


Little Italy was my restaurant, but the people booking our meet and greet didn’t know this. Until they told me that the meeting was there I hadn’t known either. I rarely deal with the business side of things. I collect money, and I finance things, that’s what I do. However, I wanted to make sure that this evening was something special, I wanted the restaurant to make a good impression.

I phoned ahead and spoke to the restaurant manager Mario. Mario is a relative, a rather distant one. He is mortal, and can trace his bloodline back to my sister Francesca. So in a way, I am his great, great, great uncle. The kid has always been a hard worker, I put him in charge of Little Italy and a few other my ventures.

“Mario,” I say. “It’s me Tony.”

“Uncle Tony how are you,” he asks on the other line.

“Good, good. I’m calling because there is a group that has booked the conference room for the evening. I want it to be special. Whatever, you do make sure you give them all the best shit,” I say. “Who is the cook tonight?”


“That is no good,” I tell him. “Raphael is the worst cook we have. Where is Joseph?”

“Joseph has the day off,” Mario replies.

“Tell him he has to come to work tonight and that you will give him an extra $500 to make it worth his evening.”

“Will do Tony.”

Later in the evening I met with the new cast of the show. Needless to say I was unimpressed.

Day one of Jersey Score shooting

It was nearly three months after my meet and greet with the cast of this seasons Jersey Score. I had already forgotten their names and faces. They were an unimpressive bunch that embodied a number of New Jersey stereotypes. Yes, in a way I too was a stereotype, I embraced a certain look, and a certain lifestyle. Yet, being centuries older than the rest of my cast you tend to learn things and get perspective on your life.

The first day of shooting was treated almost as a fabrication of sorts. On camera it would appear we were all just meeting for the first time as we moved into the oceanside mansion that would be our home for the next several months.

There was me –Tony, and three other male leads on this show: Michael, Cody, and Luigi. On the female side there were only three people this season: Shamwow, Rita, and the Michelle or as I called her the forgettable one.

Michelle was the strangest pick for this show. While the men all inhabited the horny jock stereotype most common for the show. The women, for the most part, were all sluts with daddy issues; and then there was Michelle. She was a virgin, she didn’t drink, and she was Christian. She was on the show purely as a favor to Rita. The two were best friends oddly enough, and Rita had no problem spreading her legs for the male producers on the show.

Nothing about Michelle was interesting, except for the fact that she was uninteresting. She was a juxtaposition of character for a show that made its money on the loose morality of idiotic twenty-somethings.

My first re-encounter with a cast member on this show was with Michael. He was 6’2 and had spikey black hair. He clearly enjoyed the gym… wait maybe it wasn’t Michael, I think it was Cody, or perhaps Luigi. The point being is that all three of them, and I suppose I am in that camp as well, could fit that description.

Regardless, to whoever it was I met. I was instantly challenged to display my prowess in some sort of bench pressing competition. This isn’t really the sort of thing I would go for… typically. However, I was being paid by the show to flex a certain amount of masculinity from time to time. When the challenge was presented I was almost forced by contract to agree. The two of us went toe to toe in a bench off with my other two male cast members eventually joining in. There was an onsite gym for us to use, the maximum amount of weight available to us was around 700-pounds. My competitors tapped out at 350-pounds, now I was showing off. I loaded the bar with all 700-pounds. The bar was bending from the weight, and I proceeded to rep out the weight for  20-reps. This was hardly a warm up.

My  bro cast members were impressed. It was at this point I realized that this would be my life for the next several months. I would be in constant competition with these frat boys. It would be easy, but annoying.

The women were having their own conflict as well. Shamwow and Rita were loud and proud about how slutty they were. From across the mansion, the men and I could hear the two screaming. The point of contention was about who had the tighter asshole. Michelle was being asked to judge, a role she hadn’t really wanted.

The men and myself jogged to where the three women were only to witness the bizarre contest of champions. From the looks of it the two women both had fairly loose buttholes, although Rita could stand to wax it once in awhile. Michelle determined it a no contest and then we all proceeded to unpack our luggage.

Was this a set of a reality T.V. show or a porn shoot?

The First Night Out

We were prepared by the producers that the first night out had to be wild. We were creating a caricature of ourselves for the television viewing audience. We were all chosen because we represented a middle class depravity that was both appalling, but also appealing as well. People hated the way we lived our lives, but secretly wished they were us. We embodied a carefree freedom… perhaps I did most of all. I’d have centuries to master this lifestyle.

We were scheduled to party at a local club called the BoneYard. Aptly named that because of the suggestion that if you come there you are likely to “bone.” I was familiar with the place, but I was also banned. Karen Xxtreme was the the club owner. She was an haggard 57-year-old ex-adult film producer. We had been business rivals, and friendly for the most part. That was until a few years ago when one of her drink servers alleged that I had raped her. She also alleged that I sucked her blood. Only one of those things were true, and Karen provided the funds for that server to file her lawsuit against me. I won the case but now there was bad blood between us.

I began spreading rumors that Karen was a transgendered necrophiliac, also only one of those things happened to be true. Because of that I was banned from all of her establishments.

We approached the nightclub, the cast for the most part was already drunk and were enthused to be going to the club. I’d probably drank 80 or more beers, and two fifths of Jose Cuervo, I wasn’t really feeling much. My biology was different, drugs like alcohol had less of an effect on me. Everyone was let in as expected, that was with the exception of me. The bouncer informed the film crew that I was on a banned list. Typical, but it didn’t make it impossible for me to get in.

The bouncer was ‘Big’ Johnny Walker, he was a 310-pound NFL washout that at one point in time worked the door at one of my own clubs. Walker and I had always gotten along, but apparently he had been caught stealing, so my nephew Mario was forced to let him go. It was never my decision, but it was good for business.

“Hey Johnny,” I said.

“Hey Tony. How are you doing?”

“Good I replied. “Is Karen in today?

“Nah, she hasn’t been feeling well.”

I withdrew ten $100 bills out of wallet.

“Look, here is a $1000. I don’t want to get you in trouble, but I am doing this T.V. thing and this is the place they chose for us to go,” I told him.

The sight of money was all it took to get that magic red rope out of my way and into the club.

Inside the club was pure depraved magic. The BoneYard was just  on the border of being a brothel. If you couldn’t get laid here you were probably a burn victim with a dick amputation. It was that easy.

The women immediately made for the dance floor. They began grinding up on each other, and the people around them. The slut factor was in full effect, one if not all of them would probably walk away with a case of crabs by the end of the night.

The men on the other hand were doing the borderline homoerotic stuff that they’ve proven to excel at. Michael, Cody, and Luigi decided that they would begin to have an impromptu push up contest in the middle of the bar. With the analysis of a football commentator my money had been on Cody. He was smaller than the other two, but was built like a rock climber. Moving his body weight around would probably be no problem at all for him.

I was asked to engage, but I had other things on the mind. Mainly, pussy and blood – but to be clear not a bloody pussy. I went to the bar to observe my prey. There was a young, but stunning redhead at the other end. I was picking up a southern accent from her voice, my guess was Tennessee and that she was here for vacation. I had the bartender send her a drink – vodka and redbull.

The girl took the drink and asked who it was from. The bartender signaled it was from me and I gave her a nod then walked away. I didn’t want to engage her yet, I was planting a seed for later. If she sought me out I knew that I might just have an in. I walked around a bit, had a few dances with some girls, and spoke to a couple of people I recognized. It was probably about an hour until the young southern bell had decided to come talk to me.

“Hey there, how ya doing,” she asked me.

The girl was two more drinks away from being completely wasted. She was noticeably chatty and felt compelled to tell me her story. She was on vacation with her girlfriends, they were on college summer break. Her boyfriend had just broken up with her before the end of school. I had an in.

Throughout the conversation I made subtle suggestions, and flirtations that would get her in the right physical and mental mindset to sleep with me. She would also be a good target for my bloodlust. I managed to convince her to come with me back to the camera crews van.

Once at the van I managed with almost no effort at all to convince her to take her top off. A cameraman had followed us and I was trying to motion for him to leave. However, the girl seemed completely fine with the idea of being filmed as we did our deed.

“Is this being filmed,” she asked.

“Um… yeah,” said the cameraman. “We are filming for the show,”

She cut him off, “Can you put this on the internet. It will make my ex-boyfriend *hicup* jealous. Fuck you Nathan! I am totally going to blow this guy, this could have been yooouuuu.”

I motioned with my hand to the cameraman to keep rolling. If she was fine with it, who was I to get in the way of her revenge.

“Um Steve,” I said to the guy filming. “Will this make it into the episode at all?”

“Probably not,” replied Steve the cameraman. “We will have to edit this. I could maybe leak this online. The publicity would actually be good for the ratings, I’d have to ask my boss first though.”

“Don’t ask your boss, I will give you $1,000 to just give me the tape. Whatever you see tonight I don’t want it to get out there on the web,” I said.

“Like what,” asked Steve.

The girl was getting antsy and she started going for my belt buckle. “Come on, you aren’t being any fun,” she said.

“I’ll give you another $7,000 to quit the show after this.”

“What the fuck guy, are we going to do it or not.” The young girl was reaching for her shirt. “I’m going to fucking *hiccup* leave.”

“No don’t do that,” I told her. I then took my pants off and yanked my underwear down to my ankles. “Baby could you play with that for a moment while I discuss something with Steve here.”

“No way am I going to blow you. I’m not that sort of girl,” she replied.

“Do you like Molly,” I asked her. “I have some in my pocket. It’s yours if you just mess around with it for a bit. I’ll be ready for you once we wrap here. So Steve do we have a deal or what,” I asked.

“Uh sure man, but like why?”

“You’ll see.”

“Ooo Molly!”

The girl and I went at it for a bit, that wasn’t what I was concerned about. What I was concerned about was the fact that I was going to have myself a little midnight snack. I gave her a gentle love bite to suck some blood. For some people this experience would be horrifying, my hopes were that the drugs would make it more of a happy experience for her. Seeing what was happening though I could tell was freaking Steve out.

“W-what what the fuck,” screamed Steve.

“Hey man. This is why you can’t say anything. I’m going to up my bid to $10,000. You say nothing, you give me the tape, and you quit this job,” I told Steve. “Now do we have a deal?”

“A deal, dude I have to report this shit. This is like totally heinous and violent,” replied Steve.

“Ooh baby that felt amazing, can you do it again,” replied the girl.

“Look Steve, you report this and we are going to have a problem. I then grabbed for some sort of audio visual tool that in the camera truck and snapped it in half with my hands. Do you understand?”

“Um… yeah. $10,000 grand for the video, my silence and for me to quit. I understand. I understand,” he replied.

I told the girl to leave. She had served her purpose. Between the alcohol, the Molly, and the natural euphoria you get from sex she was more fucked up then she was prior to coming into the van.

Steve and I then worked out the details of our little agreement.

After that evening I kept tabs on Steve, it wasn’t hard to. He was on all the social media platforms, and all his profiles were set to public. I’d send him foreboding messages meant to deter him going public with what he had seen.

In the house though things were annoying as usual. The bros and the hos continued to bicker with one another, we’d have daily challenges with one another, and spend our evenings in nightclubs.

Cameras, cameras everywhere. It attracted attention, which all of us seemed to enjoy. It afforded us free drinks, and afforded me my full share of loose women. I was exhausted. This process was getting annoying, these people were annoying, the women up until this point seemed fairly detestable as well. Then she happened.

It was midway through the season, the rape allegations were finally dying down. Shamwow was leaving the show due to public embarrassment, and a new person was being brought into replace her.

Maggie was tall and thin, she wasn’t busty like some of the other females on the show. She was more of a natural beauty, she also wasn’t fucking Italian. There was something oddly familiar about her.

It wasn’t immediate for me, I hadn’t realized that I knew Maggie from a past life, my mortal life. When I had first met her, she was going by the name Margôt, and was a French whore that I had hired. She was the one who made me into the vampiric bloodsucker that I am today.

It took me time though to put the pieces together. I’m still not entirely sure if it was coincidence that she ended up on the show or if she had sought me out specifically. All that I do know is at first she was sort of cramping my style.

She was a hard partier, and she could slam alcohol about as well as myself, she also could nab sexual partners with a surprising amount of ease. There formed a sort of natural competitiveness between the two of us. I was the natural alpha-male of the group, she for all intents-and-purposes was the alpha-female.

Night after night, we would go toe-to-toe over who could bed the most people, drink the most alcohol, win the most fights, and etc. The more irritated I got from our constant competition, the more I lusted for her. Then one evening we were surprised on set by a vampire hunter.

I thought he was there for me, I thought I was being careful, but I found out that it was Maggie he was actually after. In the heat of the moment both of us ended up revealing ourselves as vampires.

We dispatched of him fairly easily, but now both of our secrets were exposed to each other as well as the world. We were the first publicly known set of vampires, and we both happened to be on the same television show.

Ratings went through the roof, and the evening of the hunter attack we both decided to get our rocks off with one another. The lovemaking was primal, and violent, and it resulted in a few holes in the wall.

Maggie though was a much different vampire then me. I was and am sexually attracted to her, but she is a much more violent type of vampire, for myself I am more subdued. There were several moments on the show where her temper flared. Throwing things and making a scene, threatening death to the whole cast or crew. I think the pressure of her being exposed as a vampire was getting to her.

There was online ridicule from the fan community about our blood thirsty nature; polls were being taken on when we were expected to maim, murder and sodomize the rest of the shows cast members.

I was already a targeted based on my previous dealings with Shamwow. I could handle the pressure though, I had a thick skin.

Maggie though finally popped, it was the last episode of the season. She beheaded a cameraman who was giving her mouth. She asked me to hide the body, I obliged, and then we were spotted by one of our ludicrous male cast members. His name escapes me at this point. I took care of him, but at this point the bloodlust had surfaced, and we both went on a killing spree.

No one was left alive that day, and we now knew we needed to flee the scene. We went on the lamb, I owned several nice vehicles, and we took off for Las Vegas. Why Las Vegas? I don’t really know, just that it was completely on the opposite side of the country, from there I didn’t know what we’d do next.

Well that was two-years-ago, we are still on the run. We’ve had our fair share of close calls. Luckily, Maggie and I are stronger and more durable than the law enforcement that seeks to arrest us.

The Jersey Score tried to recreate the show, but has had little to no success this time around. They managed to get a werewolf on cast, the thought being that it would be more subdued, maybe even trained like a dog. Problem is werewolves are less in control then vampires. It was another murder show, which ultimately lead to the full cancellation of the show.

Maggie and I broadcast a small web show online, it has a small following, but has garnered us just enough fame for a Lifetime movie to be made about our lives.

– The End


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