Dating a Celebrity

“Do you truly love me, Candace?”

“Of course I do, my darling. Why must you even ask?”

“It troubles me that we keep our love to ourselves in this way. Why can we not go out into society? Is it because I am an alien who looks like a big fuzzy bunny?”

“No, my dear.”

“Is it because I am not just an alien but a vampire alien? Or because I am an undead, zombie fuzzy vampire alien?”

“Not at all, my precious one.”

“Is it that considerable portions of my anatomy consist of robotic replacement parts? Is that it?”

“No, my fuzzy undead bloodsucker. It is only my own insecurity, my sweet, that has caused this sense of isolation. We can go to the premiere tonight together. Proudly. Only…”

“Yes? Only…?”

“You are slightly shorter than I am. I worry that beside you, I will appear weedy.”

“Oh, Candace. I can wear lifts, happily.”

“Thank you, my dear. You will be teased with Tom Cruise jokes. You must bear up under them. Also…”

“Yes, my most beloved?”

“Your fur is not my best color. Would you, could you suffer a dye job? Could you go mauve for me?”

“Absolutely, my cherished one.”

“And do not punch the paparazzi, unless I instruct you to do so.”

“I will kill only if you direct me to kill, my queen.”

“No killing, Arrrggguuloh. It is frowned upon on Earth. With respect to the celebrity red-carpet scene, at least.”

“I hear and understand, my heaven, my life… if I had a life. I also have the camoflauge ability to blend into the red carpet, if necessary.”

“Yes, I’ll signal when I want you to do that. For the mandatory gown-malfunction shots.”

“I will share that magnificent bosom with the world, if I must.”

“Thank you, my little friend and buddy. One last thing. No more bite marks until we get home.”

One Response

  1. Oh that is absolutely deliciously weird, which I much appreciate. Of course it was all a height thing. Good stuff, I will read more.

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