Who: The Flash and OPEN to anyone who knows Bart What: Dr. Phil sucks and watching him present the cold hard truth to a nineteen year old drug addict through a shop window can result in vampires trying to strangle you. That’s a fact. Where: Near Isis When: Just before sundown Rating: PG-13
It should have been illegal to place a TV in your shop window. And it should have been even more illegal to place a TV in said window, flip through the channels, decide that it would be smart to settle on Dr. Phil and then go back to your business, but not before turning up the volume so that everybody within ten miles could hear a dumbass with an annoying accent trying to fix everybody’s problems.
There was two minutes (if that) left of daylight when the Flash brushed up against a brick wall and turned his head toward the glass window that separated him from the inside of a dimly lit appliance store. A hand clad in red rested up against the brick and he was planning on using it to push himself away. He would have been miles up the road if some kid with greasy black hair and bloodshot eyes hadn’t started screaming about lack of parental guidance and having no date for the winter formal in eighth grade.
One thing negative about Bart was that he could be distracted in no time at all if he wasn’t set on doing something, anything that would keep his mind from wondering too far.
Dr. Phil got on his nerves like nobody’s business. Dr. Phil thought he knew everything and to top it all off, he was bald and probably smelled bad. Dr. Phil sucked times a billion and one, but he talked too loud and shook his head, put on his superior face, and the Flash couldn’t turn away.
Dr. Phil was a bad influence.
Seven minutes later and the breeze in back of him moved from one side to the other. He anticipated the hand coming up for his neck before it could get a grip and settle on its target. There was a blur as he spun around to face his would-be assailant and as soon as he drew back his arm, the vampire knew that he’d made a mistake. Like a lighting bolt striking a tree, his fist crashed into a cold jaw and the vampire went flying back. The cracking of bone was intense and on the ground, lying with his neck twisted at an abnormal angle, the wounded vampire clawed at the cement beside him and the Flash stared down at the creature from his bold stance near the wall.
“Don’t do that again.”
His warning was met with a series of groans. The thing needed to be put out of his misery but the Flash wasn’t ready to do it just yet. It was cruel to let something suffer. He didn’t particularly care.
The idiot had signed his death certificate the moment he’d chosen him as prey. He'd watch him squirm, just for a second.