Ficlets

Better Call The Plumber

Alec was starving. It had taken him too long to narrow down an appropriate persona for the task ahead – survival; but he had managed.
He shifted his toolbelt around his waist and pulled his shirt out slightly. He had decided to move away from the helpless Catholic Priest decision, as the robes got very itchy in the heat. And that minor reason of the tattooed guy and his scrawny, cussing apprentice.
Alec pushed out his chest and adopted a wide stance. From the movies he’d watched, he knew no woman could resist a plumber, with large tools and long pipes. Granted, those movies were not found in the general area of the video store but he was confident this would work. Albeit doubtful at the appeal of buttcrack to modern day women, Alec pulled down his pants slightly and rang the doorbell.
She answered in a flurry of pink housecoat and slippers. “In here.”
Alec followed until she turned her back then pounced, sinking his teeth into her neck and relishing the warm blood.
Except that, she tasted funny.

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