Robert Pattinson stood in front of the mirror and mussed at his carefully unkempt bedhead for only 30 minutes that morning, rather than the usual full hour. He was in a hurry. Last night he’d been out partying with a bunch of A-list celebrities like himself. It was so miserable. Now he was late for a lunch he wasn’t going to have to pay for. UGH. Out in the driveway of his mansion he barely even stopped to decide which of his fancy cars to take. The Porsche will have to do, he decided, and gunned the engine. While his disdain for the Twilight franchise and all of its fans still caused his lip to curl in a spiteful sneer, he had to admit that he did enjoy the millions of dollars he had made. As he pulled out of the gates of his estate he ran over a 12-year-old girl who had been camped outside for days, hoping to catch a glimpse of her favorite star. “Oh well,” Robert Pattinson thought. “My fans are so stupid and annoying, I hate them. I am better than them and everything.”
After lunch with his agent at the Marmont and a quick trip to the gym, Robert Pattinson stopped by the bank. He liked to go to the ATM even when he didn’t need cash, just to see the balance in his checking account. Millions. “Oh man,” Robert Pattinson thought, “I am so rich. I hate it. Stephanie Meyer is so stupid. All I have are these millions of dollars to keep my mind off of how much I hate everyone involved with the thing that made me that money.” Robert Pattinson was so brooding.
On his way home, Robert Pattinson was thinking about how stupid Stephanie Meyer and all his fans and vampires were when a deer jumped in front of his car. Robert Pattinson pulled the wheel hard to one side. The car flipped twice and landed in a ditch. Robert Pattinson climbed from the wreckage, groaning, with a hand held to his head. He looked for the deer but it was nowhere to be found. He was alone in the dark Los Angeles forest.
“Hello?” Robert Pattinson called out.
Just then a shadowy figure emerged from the mist. (There was mist now.) “Hello, Robert,” a voice said. Suddenly the air got colder and Robert Pattinson felt a tightening in his chest, as if someone was squeezing his insides with pale fingers.
“Wh-wh-who are y-you?” Robert managed.
“I’m Count Morpheo, the elder.” Count Morpheo’s face glistened in the moonlight like bone. “Will you walk with me?”
Count Morpheo turned and began to walk away as if he were out for a leisurely stroll on a Sunday afternoon. Robert Pattinson felt himself drawn as if by force, stumbling in the brambles to keep up. The Count continued. “I’m one of the oldest of my kind, which gives me a certain authority over the others, but I’m getting ahead of myself. We’ve taken an interest in you, Robert. We take a nominal interest in all human depictions of our kind, in your literature and your…movies. But you have been quite popular in vampire circles. It seems that you find vampires to be silly, and that your work on this…Twilight movie is not to your liking?”
“N-no, sir.” Robert Pattinson shoved his hands in his pockets so the Count wouldn’t notice how badly they were shaking. “It’s not that. Maybe it’s just the pressures of fame. It took me by surprise, you know. It’s nothing against your…kind?”
The Count laughed. “Then you wouldn’t mind becoming one of us, to show your true loyalty?”
Robert Pattinson froze in his tracks. The Count turned to face him, and his eyes turned red. Despite himself, Robert could feel a deep, sexual urge to embrace the Count, to entwine their bodies and become one. It was unlike anything he’d felt before. It was scary, just like how growing up was scary. Robert closed his eyes and lowered his head, wishing that he were somewhere else, that this wasn’t happening.
“Kiss me, Robert,” the Count said, but his voice sounded different now. Robert looked up, and Mandy Moore was holding out her arms. “I love you so much!” Suddenly the two of them were traveling down a lazy chocolate river on a giant innertube made of candy and Mandy Moore opened her mouth and Lil Wayne’s “Lollipop” came out. The candytube went off the chocolatefalls and Robert Pattinson was floating on a cinnamon breeze, hand in hand with Beyonce and they were about to fall into the marshmallow volcano when–
Robert Pattinson woke up. It had all just been a dream. Which should have been obvious. Because VAMPIRES DON’T EXIST.