Twilight Saga: Bella’s Revenge

For those of you who haven’t seen the Twilight Saga movies, here’s a quick update:

Twilight: There’s this girl who falls in love with a vampire.

Twilight – New Moon: This girl now falls in love with a werewolf.

Twilight – Eclipse: The vampire and werewolf fight over the girl, but eventually team up together to save her from other bad vampires who are hell bent on killing her for some obscure reason. The werewolf is so much cooler, but the stupid girl rejects him and continues to be in love with the vampire.

Great. Now that you’ve been brought up to speed on the three movies, here’s a sneak preview of the secret, unreleased book and movie. This story happens in between ‘Eclipse’ and the soon-to-be-released ‘Breaking Dawn‘.

We left off the last movie with Jacob, the werewolf, lying in a bed with his bones broken by an evil vampire. The girl, Bella Swan, sitting beside him and telling him that she chooses to be with Edward, the vampire. She then meets Edward and tells him that she’s ready to marry him. Stephanie Meyer did not want me to reveal this, but there were three distinct events that happened on the same day that Bella Swan agreed marry Edward. In chronological order, they are:

  1. Before leaving home that morning, Bella Swan would have poisoned her father’s coffee mug, dosing the rim with a peculiarly rare venom from a werewolf’s anus, hoping that it was the humane thing to do. She did not want him to die a painful death at the hands of an evil vampire. Little did she know that her father did not drink coffee. He only drank beer. If she had spent a little more time getting to know her father and a little less time with wild creatures, she would have known that he used the coffee mug as a vaginal alternative. Well, he did, and he developed a painful infection on his private parts and died of complications on the way to the ICU. Well, she accomplished her job, but it definitely wasn’t the humane way to go.
  2. Bella’s classmates at Forks High had been mean to her in the third movie, calling her deranged and stupid, questioning her integrity and her character. So, to exact her revenge on them, Bella tells Edward after agreeing to marry him, that she’ll only do it if he kills the four assholes in school for being mean to her. Edward jumps at the opportunity to taste human blood, and ambushes the four students in a dark alley behind the local movie theater and rips them apart. He literally eats them up and drinks their blood. There is no evidence left at the scene and very little blood splatter. For obvious reasons.
  3. Owing to the particularly heavy meal that night, Edward the vampire develops a bad stomach ache and goes into the woods to take a dump. In his discomfort, he does not realize that he is knee-deep in his own shit in werewolf territory. Jacob the werewolf, gets his scent, and despite the broken bones, attacks him viciously. It’s a battle to the death and at the end of an hour, both the vampire and the werewolf lie next to each other, broken, bruised and gasping for their last breaths. Bella comes out of the shadows, smiles vilely at them both and shoots them in the head.

Stephanie Meyer could not reveal these incidents as they would have put an end to the ridiculous franchise. Instead, she built up a cock-and-bull story of how Bella gets pregnant and … Oh, I almost killed the suspense of the last movie. Go, pay your hard-earned money and watch it for yourselves, but trust me, it’s a falsification of the facts. It’s sensationalism of the truth. It’s pure and unadulterated yellow journalism.

Hunger Strike!

hunger strikeWe Indians have a peculiarly unique way of demanding justice. We stop eating and call a press conference.

It all started with the great Mahatma Gandhi, who went on a hunger strike to oppose the tyranny of the British Raj, back in the 1930s and 1940s. This habit has not died after we got our independence. Every time the government does something that someone doesn’t approve of, a hunger strike is called along with a press conference.

Recently, Anna Hazare did it to oppose corruption in the government. He was hailed as the present Mahatma and the press jumped to draw parallels with him and the original Mahatma. They called it the new Freedom Struggle. And more recently, a guy who made his living doing yoga, Baba Ramdev, went on a hunger strike and no one knows the reason why. I’m sure he gave a laundry list of reasons for doing what he did, but no one really understood them.

It’s like an infectious disease here in India. If one person goes on a hunger strike, it spreads like a virus on heat and before you know it, your neighbor’s on a hunger strike against the local corporation office demanding better roads and clean water. It’s about time I joined in the fun.

I am going on a hunger strike from today onwards to oppose hunger strikes all over. I will eat obscene amounts of food and go on a strike against hunger until everyone stops their respective hunger strikes and eradicates the country of this ridiculous disease.

My diet, during this hunger strike consists of the following:

Breakfast: 12 eggs, 24 slices of bread, 2 pints of orange juice and a quart of coffee
Lunch: 5 helpings of rice, dal and a 12 rotis with vegetables
Dinner: 16 helpings of rice, dal, 20 few rotis, along with some sweets for dessert

I vow to not go hungry again until my objective is fulfilled. This hunger strike will prove to the whole country that I am quite serious. I will not end this hunger strike until all hunger strikes have ended in this country.

I am ready for my title now. I prefer something cool, and nothing with the word “Mahatma” in it. That’s become cliched.

Nefarious, Investigator-Kidnapping Horror From The Isolated Labyrinth

This isn’t a name of an upcoming movie or a third-rate novel being written by someone purporting to be a novelist. This will be my name if and when I become a vampire for a day.

I have been having some really strange urges in the past few weeks because of the monotony in my life. There have been times when I thought I’d just give in and do something stupid. I toyed with the idea of getting a tattoo, and though this urge still hasn’t died completely, I’m beginning to discover reasons why a tattoo would be a bad idea. I contemplated writing for money in a random blog competition and I did. I contemplated quitting my job and working in a bar as a bartender, but I found out that a basic bar-tending course in India costs a hand, a foot and a few hairs from a ‘special’ place. Too expensive, in short. And finally, I started a subtle rebellion against the society at large to excite me out of my monotony and jumped to the idea of vampirism.

It wasn’t a direct jump, though. I did decide to worship the devil and invoke him through a satanic ritual on me terrace. I bought some candles, drew a rough circle with table salt and drew a six-pointed star inside the circle with red water paint. I put candles at all the nodes and sat in the middle and had a smoke. That’s when the foolishness of what I was about to do struck me. “This will never work,” my brain told me. “You have to be naked for this to work.”

Given that my neighbor is an old pervert peep, I dropped the idea of nudity and jumped to a safer alternative which does not involve any indecent exposure. Vampirism.

I did some research online and found that there was a cult right here in Bangalore! I was way too excited. I read up some of their forums and found out all I needed to find out about them. I was hooked. Imagine a bunch of jobless idiots dressed in black, wearing black makeup and standing around drinking wine (imagining it to be blood) and having casual, unprotected sex! I would fit right in. Except that I don’t drink wine and that I usually prefer a contraceptive. Usually.

Still, the idea has some merit and I am seriously thinking of signing up for a week or so. I would rebel against society in my own way and I would dress completely in black while doing so. Awesome! I would also need to buy plastic fangs to make it look like I can suck blood right out of the aorta of a poor, helpless, sexy woman at night. I would be able to transform into a bat at will and I will be able to control hordes of rats and wolves and other undead creatures.

I would be the Nefarious, Investigator-Kidnapping Horror from the Isolated Labyrinth! (Imagine this with the slushing sounds of blood being slurped through a straw.)

PS: For those of you who have realized that my name is actually an acronym for the title of this post, I have a treat. I won’t suck your blood.

PPS: This post is written in red color. Request you to please imagine that this is written in blood. Well, its actually maroon. So, imagine this is clotted and congealed blood.

Image Courtesy: http://spicyvampirefiles.wordpress.com

Ode To A Lost Savior

He came in the middle of the day,
When it was bright & sunny.
He took up the post, tough as it may,
And vowed to protect me, from death and tyranny.

For 1300 days he did not flinch from danger,
Through pain and suffering, hurt and anguish,
To hell, blood, scratches and tears, he was no stranger,
Nor was the dungeon where was stored to languish.

He fell for me, took a bullet for me,
He held my hand through love and hate.
Many a time, my own immortality he did make me see.
When I had accepted mediocrity as my fate.

He would have endured much more.
Of life’s toughest roads and hurdles.
If only some loser so sore,
Had not stolen my savior when he hung on my bike’s handles.

Dear Helmet,

Wherever you are, I hope you are good. I admit I didn’t always take good care of you. I have abused you much and never ever given you a proper wash. I assure you that when I threw you at that hot girl at the bar in 2009, it was purely an accident – I was aiming for the gay guy next to her. Of all the things I’m sorry about, I’m sorry I took you for granted. You have saved my thick skull from many a crack and I am deeply indebted to you for that.

For all your selfless acts of bravery and courage, having you stolen was the last thing I should’ve have done. I hope you find a good home for yourself.

Keep writing to me from time to time. I do miss you. And if by chance I pass you on the streets of Bangalore sometime, be prepared to see an awesome deathmatch where I pummel your current owner to submission, break his hand for stealing you and bring you home in glorious victory.

Until then, I am always –

Deeply Grateful,
Nikhil

PS: On a scale of 1 to 10, 10 being the highest, how LAME do you think the post is? Let me know in the comments section.

PPS: I don’t care what you vote. I miss my fucking helmet.

If I Were A Politician…

Ever since I was a kid, I’ve been drawn to showing off my accomplishments to others. I have been inclined to step over others for my successes and I’m very fascinated by money. Not money in the bank, but cold, hard cash. I have very few morals and principles in life and I am easily bored with uninteresting people. I love fame and glory and I revel in other people’s accolades. I have a very huge ego and I think I’m God. I love and hate people fiercely and I hate to lose someone I love. I love to lose someone I hate, and not just lose, but to see them dig their own grave and nail themselves in the coffin.

I am a fantastic orator and I can sway people with my words. I have a knack for convincing people to see things from my point of view and I hate it when it fails. I love doing shady deals for lots of money, though I am yet to do one so far. I love being on television and I love seeing myself being written in the papers.

I think I’d make a fantastic politician. Just what the country needs at this point. Someone with a sense of humor and the ability to make the citizens feel good about being fleeced for their money.

I think I am ready for it. Money Fame Politics, here I come! Or, maybe not. I don’t know if I’m ready to be assassinated yet.