...of "Despair" by Teresa Cain


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Art Wench: Hi and welcome to the third installment of "The Sartain Literary Review." This evening we are reviewing "Despair" by Teresa Cain. If I'm not mistaken, it appears to be a work of a biographical nature. Care to comment on that, Markkastanen?

Mark: *yawn* I didn't get that impression at all.

Art Wench: Really? So the fact that one of the characters is a sadistic drakthos named 'Mark' doesn't ring any bells for you at all?

Mark: No... should it? *examines his nails*

Art Wench: *exasperated sigh* Mark, it's painfully obvious that this story is about you. Now c'mon, 'fess up. You killed one of Tess's characters. That's a huge no-no.

Mark: *exaggerated blink* Moi? Kill one of Teresa's characters? Well, I never! There could be other drakthae named Mark, you know... or perhaps, she disguised his true name, and used mine, because I'm the only other one she knows.

Art Wench: Mark, he looked just like you!

Mark: *completely unconcerned* And you know that we all look remarkably alike. Well, except for little brother, that is. Speaking of Davy, where is -

*Davy bursts into room, completely freaked, and thrusts manuscript under his brother's nose*

Davy: Is THIS what you do in your free time???

Mark: *mutters under his breath* and now it begins.

Davy: *still yelling* Torturing, raping, and murdering innocent girls! Mark, how could you??

Mark: *rolling eyes* Et tu, Adavidarian? I assure you, I've done absolutely nothing wrong.

Davy: According to whom? You?

Mark: *exasperated* This is a work of fiction, people! Otherwise, I would call my lawyers and sue her for defamation of character. But it's so obviously untrue, that I do not want to draw undue attention to it. At any rate, it's very unlikely that any of the drakthae would do such a thing, much less an upstanding public figure as myself. These sorts of incidents are generally the fault of the undead, cold and soulless lowlifes that they are. I'm sure a quick search through the bowels of the vampire community will turn up the culprit.

Davy: Oh, and that's not at all a speciest statement.

Mark: No it isn't, because the nightwalkers are not, in and of themselves, a species. >=)

Davy: *scowl* And now you're a hairsplitting sadistic murderer.

Mark: *raising a hand* Now hold on. Even according to the story, I did not commit murder. Last I checked, murder victims did not get up and wander off afterwards.

Davy: Again, semantics. That's only because she was a puck. If she weren't, she'd still be dead.

Mark: *mildly* But she's alive now, so that still counts.

Davy: Oh it does not!

Mark: *noting his reflection in his shoe* Does so.

Davy: Does NOT!!

Mark: *smiling at his reflection* Does so.

Davy: Oh forget it! You still tortured... and, oh gods... that poor girl. *groan*

Mark: Yes, and if you read to the end, apparently I did her a favor. *thoughtfully* I always wondered where that girl ended up.

Davy: *triumphantly* So you did do it!

Mark: Oh for the love of Chaos! *dramatically flinging his arms up in the air* Yes, yes, I confess... I gave a lovely young woman - the future Wild Queen, no less - her sense of identity, no, her very life back. I am the hero in this story, can't you see?

Davy: Sick bastard! *flings the manuscript down, and stomps away*

Mark: Such an emotional boy. Is it that time of the month, I wonder? *leans back in his chair, chuckling* Still, this is a work of fiction, and I will address it as such. Despite the attempt to ruin my reputation, and a rather improbable ending, I found it to be a... very... stirring story. I wonder if Miss Cain is busy this weekend?

Art Wench: Uh... right... anyway, we're out of time. Thank you for tuning into the "Sartain Literary Review." Hope you enjoyed it. Good night.


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