The Cow Heart is a tip-o'-the fangs to one of Bill Cosby's hilarious tales on growing up. I think it was called 'The Chicken Heart That Ate The New York City Turnpike".

Part 11: What Did You Do During The Party, Daddy?

++Previously in Part 10++ (LaCroix blackmailed Nick into attending his slumber party.)

Nick groaned as he walked into the Raven's darkened interior. The theme for this party was the same as the last one: Ancient Roman Empire with depictions of a suspiciously LaCroixian-looking General conquering blonde curly-haired barbarians at every turn. He felt Spike stiffen in his pot and hastily sent soothing thoughts. What with his childe being so feistily protective and LaCroix's ego being the size of Alaska--- how long could he keep things peaceable?

Masher and Grunt were busy at the bar, drinking down LaCroix's best vintages as his sire went to greet them. Both of the Enforcers were wearing party hats the detective noticed with some surprise. He didn't think Enforcers would go for that kind of thing. But then, those two weren't your normal-type Enforcers. It was highly unlikely that any other of the vampire-Code policemen would wear caps bearing the inscription: "I'm with Stupid." He cautiously approached the powerful threesome just as Screed appeared to hand the Ancient his 'hat'. A winner's laureate. Figures.

"An' ere's a topper fer 'es di-fek-ative self a' 'es yungin'... 'ey! Wot's e kewtz backy scritchee! Ye gots tha' a' te swapsy meetz?"

The former knight glared at the carouche. A back-scratcher indeed! "This is my *childe*, Spike." he corrected in his iciest tone.

"Nowz, nowz-- don'tcha git yerself all in a snitz. Screedy ment na disrespec' ta yous e' yers." Screed quickly backed up a step and held out their hats. "E's ta Boss'iz piks-- mind." The carouche added hastily as the 800-year old eyes started to glow.

Nick glanced at LaCroix who bared just the tips of his fangs in obvious amusement. Silently, he accepted the cow-horned Viking cap and put it on, leaving Spike the less heavy but no less undignified propeller beanie.

After a few drinks were drunk, LaCroix announced that is was time for bed and story telling, so they changed into their sleepwear and climbed into their respective slumber bags.

The Enforcers started first. Not wanting to offend, Nick looked approprately terrified even though he could hardly understand a single grunt from either of them. He guessed they must have been pretty scary though, as Spikes thorns were sticking straight out. At his sire's urging, Nick submitted his own horror flashback-- stuck in a tight space with nothing but a cold protein drink for sustenance and a leftover garlic pizza box for a pillow because a certain mortal had been eating in his car and then tried to hide the stash in the trunk.

But it was LaCroix who won scariest story hands down with his silky voice telling the tale of an evil carouche that killed a cow--but the creature's undead heart beat on. A heart which subsequently went out seeking revenge on all vampire children who were not home safe with their families... ".. Thump moo-thump... the vampire cow heart still craved fresh blood... Thump moo-thump... Fresh *vampire* blood! At last it came onto a deserted warehouse where it sensed its next victim... a foolish fledgling *all alone* in his loft..."

LaCroix paused for dramatic effect and to gauge the story's affect on his listeners. As expected, Nicholas' eyes were big as saucers-- this story never failed to work on his son, causing him anxious-ridden trips to his refrigerator for nights afterward: convinced the Cow Heart was waiting to ambush him as soon as he opened the appliance's door. Even Grunt and Masher were worrying the hem of their Count Von Count Sesame St. double-sized slumber bag with their fangs. Spike looked asleep. Asleep?! How dare it feign boredom while *he* was narrating?

[Please Note: this is a *vampire* slumber party. Particpants need to get their beauty sleep in early before their brains can really kick into gear the next night. ..... Obviously, in these vampires' cases (for varied reasons) 8 hours shut eye is not enough-- but *that's* another topic. ]

{Several hours later, wide awake and in resting comfortably in their respective bags while they played the games Nick had brought along...}

"Grraff?"

"Go Angst."

"Hmm.. got any... 'Fastidiousness'?"

"Na sich-- ba' Iys gots e' noice ratsie."

"Eww-- put that thing away, Screed! Your turn LaCroix."

"I refuse to ask for something even remotely like 'Redemption'.

"Go Angst."

"What?"

"Spikes's turn."

"<Rustle rustle Ruustle?>"

"Well, LaCroix... *do* you have any 'Saving Graces'?" Nick asked innocently. LaCroix looked up from his hand of 'Virtues & Righteousness' cards in order to turn murderous eyes on both son and grandson. "No."

"You're supposed to say: 'Go Angst', LaCroix. And-- hey-- yes you do-- right there next to 'Faith'. Should be more careful how you hold your cards, you know? Guess Spike wins this round... "

"One... Two... Three... Four.. Gee, LaCroix-- looks like Masher's just about sunk your leading galleon. You sure are good at this game, Masher."

"Garrff rr...hehe."

"My turn! Ooo-- five! One... Two... Three... Four... Five.. um.. sorry, LaCroix-- looks like your out of the game."

"... And Screed wins again! Anyone for another round of 'Rat Trap'?" A frustrated growl emanated from Nick's master as he fixed his son with a glare, "I think not, Nicholas. Nor am I interested in another game of 'Steps to Mortality & Slides to Hellish Undeadness' or 'Trivia: The Abbarat Edition'.

"Ah, c'mon, LaCroix-- lighten up! Just because I won at 'Don't Enrage Daddy!'..."

"I wouldn't be *too sure* of that, mon fils." The glare was now taking a decidedly ruby hue.

"Oh." Smiling nervously, Nick pulled out another game box. "How about 'Autopsy'? This is Nat's favorite."

A paternal growl.

"um.. 'Klew'?"

A deeper growl.

"Alright, then," the frustrated crusader threw up his hands in defeat.

"*You* choose the next game."

"Choose something from this pile of infantile.." LaCroix paused in his sarcasm as he spotted the title of the bottom box his son had brought with him. "What is that?"

Nick pulled it out. "This? It's just some version of chess that Comissioner Vetter left behind at the last Christmas precinct party. I've been meaning to take it back to him.." LaCroix snatched it out of his hands like it was the cure for vampirism. Or the cure for absolute boredom.

"Aah... Detectives v.s. TPTB... a travel-sized version of an ancient classical game of strategy..." The master vampire looked up at his waiting audience. Two stupid Enforcers, a klew-challenged son, and a cactus. He sighed in deep disappointment. What good was having the world's most challenging game when all of your potential opponents were morons?

"What's the matter, sire?"

"It seems I lack an adequate partner.."

Spike straightened up in his pot. "<Russtle.>"

".. with which to play.."

The clay pot began making a racket as it hopped up and down a bit on the Raven's floor. "<Russtle! Russtle!>"

".. this game.. Nicholas, I do not think Janette will appreciate that thing of yours scuffing up the floor."

"Spike is offering to play with you."

"How rapturous. A game of Tiddlywinks, perhaps?"

The cactus managed to look offended. "<Rustle.>".

"Chess." The proud father translated.

LaCroix raised an elegant catepillar of an eyebrow. "Nicholas, chess requires skill, strategy, patience.. I don't think that animated pincushion qualifies."

Every single needle on Spike's undead skin bristled. Nick grabbed and held down the pot just in time to stop his son from launching himself forward.

"Spike-- calm down!"

"<RUSTLE!>"

"Yes-- I know." He rolled his eyes. Boy! Did he know.

"<RUSTLE RRUSSTLE! Russtle rrrustle rustle>"

"Well, maybe not *afraid* of losing to you-- exactly..." LaCroix's crew cut started to do some bristling of its own. Screed decided it was time to go search for a midday snack-- in the basement. Even the Enforcers simultaneously scooted back a few feet. The very air in the Raven grew absolutely still. It was like waiting for Vesuvius to erupt again.

"*Afraid*!" The ancient scourge of Rome's enemies spat out. "Me! Afraid of cerebellum-lacking pile of pre-composted vegatation?! Set up the game, Nicholas-- I and 'Spike' are going to play *chess!*" He rubbed his hands in happy anticipation. This shouldn't take too long. Fifteen minutes--tops--and he'd have that lousy plant cringing in humiliation. Challenging *him* to a game of chess indeed!

<Five hours later>

Nick looked up from where he, Screed, and the Enforcers had retreated to play their own game of 'UnLife'. Excusing himself, he went over to see what had caused that spark of annoyance to to come through his link with his sire. A quick look at the chess board gave him some idea.

"Gee, LaCroiix... what happened to most of your black pieces?" he asked semi-innocently, gesturing at the Network-secretary shaped pieces of lead piled off one side of the board.

The Roman General glowered at the interruption, but did not look up as he plucked one magnetized, major-television production-company logo piece from the metallic board and cautiously made his move. "Pawns." He said dismissively, "Just pawns. They are quite dispensable as are all lower beings." He smiled pointedly at Spike. The cactus hesitated for only a moment before moving a white Coroner-bishop. [don't ask.]

The black logo figure joined its brethren off the playing board.

"Um... are rooks dispensable too?"

LaCroix's angry retort was fortunately cut off by the sound of the Raven's phone ringing. "Don't touch anything!" LaCroix warned them as he got up to answer the call.

"Hello, this is the Raven. We are curr..." the ancient scowled into the reciver end. "What are you doing calling me here?.... Break in? A horde? A horde of what?" He saw his son frowning in his direction and quickly lowered his voice "Calm yourself-- you're rantin-- you will speak clear-- hello? Hello? Blast the idiot!" LaCroix glanced at his wristwatch. The sun would be going down any minute. It was time for the party to wind up anyway-- and this mysteriouus crisis would have to be looked into with a minimum of fuss.

"My guests, it seems that my attention is required elsewhere." Nick stood up, his whole manner changed to that of his professional occupation. "Where's the break-in? Have the police been notified? Just give me a minute to get dressed--"

"That will not be necessary, mon fils." LaCroix stopped him. "It is a Community-business matter--- not a mortal authority one. You will stay here until I return."

"If it's a Community matter then shouldn't Grunt and Masher handle it?" Growls of assent from the Enforcers.

Damn! The last thing he wanted was a bunch of tag-a-longs on this, but LaCroix couldn't think of anything to dissuade his 'policeman' guests.

"Very well then, you may all join me--- as long as you do as I say, Nicholas! And bring the game along. I don't want trust that needle-spewing weed not to move the pieces in my absence."

The moment his master turned to get dressed, Spike spit one in his grandsire's direction.

"OUCH!"

Part 12: "A Night at the Movies (A)"

++Previously in Part 11++ (LaCroix's slumber party chess game was interrupted by a mysterious call for help)

Despite Nicholas' protests, LaCroix insisted on driving the Caddy, with Nick and Spike in the Front and the two Enlarged Fang Faction members in the backseat. Nick couldn't help feel a little sorry for the two Enforcers as LaCroix slammed to a stop in one of Toronto's more seedier business sections. Unlike himself and Spike, they had had no idea what to expect and looked a bit catatonic with terror as they suddenly flew overhead out of the detective's car-- propelled by an ancient power older than their own. "I warned them to fasten their seat belts," muttered Nick to Spike, shaking his head as he started unfastening the restraining devices from around himself and his prot'eg'e. "But nooo... 'mortal laws don't apply to vampires'.. "

"<Rusttle, rrustle, ruustle..eee>"

"Heh.. yes--- certain natural laws will. That's why its so important we always use our seat belts." He whispered close (but not *too* close) to Spike: ((("especially when *grandpa* is driving."))) Quick as lightening his ancient sire refastened them in.

"You will stay here."

"But, LaCroix!"

"This matter is *not* your concern, Nicholas. You will *not* accompany me any further, but wait in this vehicle. Understood?

Nick sighed. "Yes." It wasn't worth getting into a fight. Not with Spike here.

Smiling at his son's unusual, but gratifying acquiesance, LaCroix took to flight, closely followed by Masher and Grunt who had finished picking the chunks of asphalt out of their teeth and clothing.

Looking about the empty alley way, Nick suddenly recognized where they were. "Hey, Spike, the health food store should be just around the corner. Want anything?" The Raven had been woefully lacking in chloryphll and Spike had already consumed what bottles of the green liquid Nick had brought from the loft hours ago.

"<Russtle rustle>" "I thought so. C'mon-- it won't take even a jiff to get you some breakfast."

"<Rustle?>"

"I'm not sure. Brianna promised to show me a picture of one once, but she must have forgot."

Carrying Spike in the crook of his arm (yes-- by the *pot*. What'd ya think? He's not *always* a brick!) the 800-year old vampire entered the alternative-eating establishment. The first thing Nick thought was that the Happenin' Health Habitat Natural Foods store had been visited by that giant ape creature Nat so adored: Aisles were filled with knocked over boxes and jars of merchandiseand the fresh produce section was a smeary mess. Hearing a groan from behind the sales counter, Nick set down Spike and went to investigate. He was surprised to find the same guy who had taken his ticket at the movie theatre last night-- this time wearing the green smock of a store employee-- and looking terrified out of his wits.

"What happened here?" Nick demanded, half pulling out his cell phone to call the precinct, but thinking better of it and just showing his badge instead. This might be connected to that mysterious phone call LaCroix got-- and thus the Community.

The new night clerk's eyes widened as he fastened them on Nick. "You! Get away from me! It all started with you!"

"What started?"

"The nightmares! The horrible nightmares! First, a flying old geezer-- then... *They* came!" The mortal started to tremble again. Nick frowned. The old geezer was likely LaCroix. But who were *they*? A group of vampires? Grunt and Masher?

"Describe them to me!"

"M-Monsters!.... H-Horrib-b-b-le m-monsters! R-right o-out of the m-m-movies!" The salesclerk stuttered. "They c-came in a-and s-s-started trashin' the place l-like they'swas *a-lookin* for s-something!" Vampires. It had to be vampires. And ones that didn't give a hoot about the Code either. Damn! He had to warn the others.

"Anything else?"

"Yea--it w-was *w-weird*, man! They h-had these t-t-iket s-stubs f-from t-t-he s-s-show!"

"The Mid-Nite Cheap-Seat Theatre?" A nervous nod of assent.

"Did you see what they took?"

"B-bott-les of somethin-- I dunno-- it was h-horrible, man!!!" The traumatized guy was close to screaming now. Placing his hand on the clerk's chest, Nick forced him to look into his vamped out eyes. "<thump a-thump> Forget you saw any of those vampires." Then he picked up Spike and ran out in the direction of the movie house leaving the mortal with a quizzical expression on his face.

"Vampires?... there are *vampires*?"

Nick sped toward the movie house past the boarded up Exotic Plant Nursery with its "Closed for Repair" banner, the wind from his wake nearly knocking over the easel sign advertising a new double feature: "Day of the Triffids/ Little Shop of Horrors-- Tonight Only!" The sight of an older guy at the ticket booth standing stock still with a glazed look over his face, told the homicide detective he was on the right track.

"Monsters?"

The man wordlessly pointed inside the theatre doors.

"Thanks-- Here! Watch my cactus for me." he set down Spike to keep him out of harm's way should the rogue bloodsuckers prove dangerous. Oh! And forget you saw any of those vampires."

The former Nursery security guard's otherwise frozen face twitched into a frown. "Vampires? There are *vampires*?" His thoughtful musings were cut off as he saw the potted cactus protrude its roots and scurry off after its master. "Nome, Alaska... tundra.. no plants there... none at all."

Deciding it might be wise to get a more aerial view in order to size up the situation, Nick rushed up the balcony stairs (ignoring the Keep Out--You Morons!--Private Area signs). He had barely gotten past the doors when he felt someone grab him by the trouser leg and yank him down behind the private balcony seats. A second hand effectively stifled his reactionary yelp of surprise. Nick suddenly found himself eyeball to eyeball with his sire. Just beyond him crouched Grunt and Masher. Each one wore a slightly worried look.

((("Nicholas!"))) LaCroix hissed as quietly as possible. ((("I told you to stay in the car!")))

"Mmnfphhtfph!"

((("Excuses, excuses.")))

"Mmff?"

((("Well... you're here now---'stuck' with us."))) The ancient seemed to draw some satisfaction from that statement. Nick freed his mouth to whisper urgently, ((("LaCroix-- there's rogue vampires about! We have to find them before they reveal our kind to more mortals!"))) He frowned. ((("Why are we all hiding behind these seats?")))

((("Well firstly,"))) LaCroix snarled nastily, ((("Some idiot of a chambermaid must of spilled an extra-large size butterscotch ice cream cone up here.")))

Nick glanced down at the trio's besmirched and thoroughly stuck trousers, realizing with sickening dread that he was probably likewise adhered to the floor. "Oh."

"And secondly.." His master gestured beyond their hiding place. Cautiously, Nick elevated himself just enough to peer over the top of the chair. His jaw fell open in horror.

Egads! A giant plant was busy consuming some hapless mortal! No... Wait.. That was just the movie. He lowered his gaze and rose up as much as the butterscotch would allow in order to see down into the main audience section. Plants. All kinds. Almost two dozen of them. And they didn't look like they were part of a movie promotion either. More like particpants in an unruly sorority party.

Ferns sipped chlorphyll from a stack of 'Happenin' Health Habitat' stamped bottles while simultaneously dodging flying debris and watching the movie. Pansies reloaded their sap-soaked spitballs into pilfered drinking straws and waged ground-to-air-battles with similarly weaponed Miniature Roses. A Catclaw was climbing the theatre drapes, pursued by a spry young Dogwood who in turn was being harrassed by a Spider Plant, who *in turn* was fending off the playful nips of a Venus Fly Trap. Peace Lilies were throwing exploding cattail bombs at the screen, cheered on by pregnant onions. And there--- blissfully unaware in the midst of all this botanical mayhem and mess-- sat the teenaged lovers from the night before *still* checking out each others tonsils the hard way!

Nick turned at the sound of the exit/entrance doors parting open. It was Spike stopping dead in his pot, mesmerized by the scene before him.

"Um.... Spike.." Nick asked drily, "Is there something about last night that you wanted to tell me?" His son sheepishly shrugged back.

Onto Part Four!