Serioulsy, this was rocked on drywall in Iowa. Those nails are real.
Well, we decided that we wouldnt even read our book after reading the last prologue. So check out the new one.
Prologue was trash, it no longer is.
The great Panamanian vampire invasion wasn’t the fun and games you’d think out of a war against the unholy spawn of the night. It was a lot more fun than that. Me and Ponch were banging around Costa Rica minding our own business, yelling at howler monkeys and things like that.
Then this dude runs up, talking all fast and stuff, “Watch out! There is a civil war going on!” Then runs off.
We look at each other and nod. We know what’s really going on.
But we knew what to do, we made for Cartago as fast as we could. It turned out that the god damn Costa Ricans were all vampires and they tried to invade Panama, but the Panamanians said nuts to that and reinvaded Costa Rica in the day time. They used the guise of Costa Rican rebels to stay under the rest of the world’s radar.
So everyone thinks it’s a civil war and there aren’t any vampires and the Panamanian freedom fighters posing as Costa Rican rebels are fighting their asses off against this demonic vampire force, and actually not doing too bad. But me and Ponch figure they can use any help they can get.
So we get to Cartago and there is a guy named Jose planning to sack the place. Turns out he just steam-rolled up the Pan American Highway taking any town in the way. But Cartago is a big one, and some guy has hunkered down pretty good.
We offer to help fight the vampires, but Jose isn’t too sure about us, and he pretends that he never heard of any vampires. Pretty good cover that guy had. I give him a wink and offer to help win freedom or whatever he wants. He still isn’t convinced, so Poncho convinced him for us.
After that we had to come up with a plan. Normally with this many vampires we would just burn everything down and call it a day. But Jose was pretty insistent that we only fight the armed ones, he would, “take care of the civilians.” Whatever that meant.
After that we roll in and tear the place up, it was pretty brutal. I must have killed like two hundred vampires that day, Poncho just hung back and offered witty remarks and clever commentary. Not as clever as mine, but he tries really hard.
A few days go by and we win. Jose is happy that the good guys won, but he isn’t too sure about us. I think he thought we were vampires too. Which is stupid because we were out in the daylight.
After the fall of Cartago we head for the capital, where some other clowns are holed up. Some stuff happened and Jose won and he got to be king of Costa Rica. We all partied pretty hard after that.
Problem was though, Jose was a vampire too, and he used us to take control from the other vampires so he could for real invade Panama with his loyal vampire army. Also I think they could go out in the daylight. Either way we got the hell out of there, all those alleged civilians we didn’t burn were surely going to be press ganged into his army, and we couldn’t fight a nation. Not after the last time we tried that without an army behind us.
So we left the country and kept an ear out for news about the future slaughter of all those canal people. But it never happened, it was a secret invasion. They took over slowly and quietly. Nobody even noticed that the population was being replaced with vampires and their brainwashed lackeys.
So that’s why it costs so much to cross the Panama Canal.
You haven't lived until you wake up in the backseat of your own car covered in puke, using someone else's bloody battle axe as a pillow, all while sleeping on a bed of empty beer cans that you cannot know for sure who actually drank. Imagine that, and then imagine that situation in front of a shitty road side diner and you have just experienced my morning. Well that, and then imagine that you really hate breakfast.
The sun is never brighter than when you wake up unsure of where you are or how you got there. When I finally fell out of the backseat and brushed as much of the puke off my coat as I could manage I noticed Dirt waving at me through the window with a stupid grin and a fork supporting a healthy amount of pancakes. I stared at him stupidly for a moment, my hung over brain attempting to decipher how glass worked, and made for the door.
The diner was your typical greasy spoon, not a place you would ever eat at by choice, but when drunk or recently drunk it was heaven. If you liked breakfast anyway. Everything looked sticky and it smelled like hell, my stomach was in no mood for this type of assault and almost revolted. I gained control over my urge to vomit and went to sit down with Dirt and Poncho.
They were sitting in a booth opposite each other and I unconsciously opted to slide in next to Dirt after seeing how poorly Poncho's mass fit into the seat. Dirt had a spread of virtually every breakfast food in front of him, all partially consumed. Poncho had one empty plate that no doubt had held a large portion of meat.
"About time you got up sleepy head." Dirt said past a mouthful of awful.
I managed a grunt of pure misery. Poncho nodded.
"I need you to talk some sense into Ponch here, he has gone balls out crazy on this one."
"About what?" I asked reflexively, I doubted I really wanted to get involved in their shit so soon after my back seat slumber.
"Poncho says pancakes are gross." Dirt said with over exaggerated disbelief and spitting food across the table.
"Pancakes are gross." I mumbled.
"Do you kiss your mother with that filthy mouth? Seriously that filth coming out of the two of you fucks mouths is ruining my breakfast." Dirt seemed honestly upset.
"I just don't like breakfast." Another mumble slipped out.
"Da Fuck you say Frank?" Dirt said while standing up on the seat of the booth. "Did Poncho put you up to this shit? Seriously Frank, tell me you actually like breakfast or I will pour this syrup in Poncho's beard and right down your lying throat! I am seriously going to fuck both of you clowns up with syrup."
"Dirt, I am really hung over and I am just not a big fan of breakfast." Although I am not sure if I said that because I don't like breakfast or if I really wanted to see him pour syrup down Poncho's beard.
"Okay, so you assholes hate the only meal where it's acceptable to dump maple syrup on literally everything on your plate. Maple syrup is the second greatest invention in the history of ever, an entire country's economy is built on harvesting and selling it! Seriously go to Canada and start saying crazy shit like that, it's fucking illegal. They will throw you in syrup rehab. Oh, that is assuming that the Royal Canadian Mounted Police Officer that responds to the locals beating the shit out of your blasphemous syrup hating cock holster doesn't beat you to death first." Dirt said to the chorus of morons actually cheering for his speech by the time he finished. "Frank, chug that fucking bottle of syrup or I will never talk to you again."
"Promise?" I replied over the drums in my head.
"That is it. You fucks have pushed me over the line."
I had a hard time keeping track of what Dirt was saying at this point, but somewhere between telling me that he was going club me to death with a maple branch and explaining how he would have a moose drenched in syrup violate me, Poncho casually pulled a beer from somewhere and slid it across the table to him.
"Dirt, sit down and drink your beer. We don't need another hostage situation. This isn't Canada and they don't care what your reasons are here." Poncho said while cracking himself open a beer.
Dirt promptly sat down and shotgunned the impeccablely timed beer. "Your right Ponch, maple syrup is kinda overrated anyways."
Not everyone will get this out of context, but for those who do.....you are fucking welcome!
"Frank can take care of himself." Dirt said. "He wrecked those other clowns, and this guy is kind of a bitch."
"A well connected bitch who always has a bunch of goons hanging around." Poncho explained.
"I'll just condor punk them, that always works."
"What the fuck is condor punking?" Poncho questioned.
"You ever watch one of those nature shows where some vultures are picking at a corpse, then a condor shows up and punks them all out?"
"Well, these vultures are all around this corpse having a grand time eating its butt and stuff, then a condor sees it and wants a piece. Everyone knows condors are seriously the most bad ass flying dick birds in the world, except bats, but some clowns say bats aren't birds so I won't count them. So the condor flies down and puffs his feathers out and chases them all away. After they fuck off he eats until his fat greedy ass is full. The best part is, before he flies away he goes and punks them out some more, just to make sure they know who the boss of all birds is."
"That sounds dumb, how would that work against goons?"
"You just run at them flapping your arms! They will run away for sure." Dirt explained while making his best imitation of condor punking. Which pretty much consisted of him flapping his arms and bobbing his head like an idiot.
"I'm not doing that, and if you do I'll let them beat your ass into the ground. Hell, I might even help them."
Seemed like it was about time for a lame author picture of us. Something like two dudes that are too cool to look at a camera. Squares.
The prologue has been added; although, it is still subject to change!
~Dirt and Poncho
Today we made a website, seriously. Now all we have to do is finish typing our book out, sell it to some big ass company, get world class book rich, quit our boring desk jobs, travel the world being awesome, and possibly fight some crime. Prologue Incoming