Galatea’s Descent: Chapter 12 is ready!

For those of you haven’t taken notice yet I am using the announcement post to my chapters to quickly fix the ‘Thank You’ finale, this one is more an explanation to how this show veered of course. Special thanks to msbuffy on this one who always entertains and encourages my twisted humour in the comments section of which this story flowed from. You can find the other fixin’s here under Thanksgiving Fixin’s. The next chapter for Galatea’s Descent can be found here or at the links on the bottom.



“Pamela?” Eric’s stern voice commanded. “Who the fuck has been messing with my scripts?”


His progeny barely looked up, too engrossed in combing her personal lookalike’s hair. The likeness was striking, of course she would always remain far better looking than the doll but she had to admit it was great fun to dress the Barbie doll in all the different outfits on her desk. They had come to the decision to act out the show with dolls as every actor and actress up for the part of Eric or Sookie was vetoed by one or the other when their significant other held an appreciative eye for a performer. There was no way in hell Pam was going to allow ugly people on her cast. Well that’s what she had told her maker and his bonded, of course Pam had a stable of the most attractive actors ready and waiting but they’d be long gone, fucking each other’s brain out all over the world before they would notice.


“Pamela,” her maker repeated with a menacing growl that finally had her averting eyes upwards. “My scripts?”


“They’re on your desk,” she returned dismissively.


Eric took an unneeded breath and counted to ten before his tone was calm enough again. “Someone has been messing with my scripts. Again,” he seethed while tossing the thick stack of papers onto her ridiculously pink desk. “You’re supposed to be head bitch in charge here and all you seem to be doing is playing with these dolls.”


“But they’re so cute Eric,” she gushed waving the downsized version of him excitedly. “Look at little Eric in his little leather jacket.”


“There is nothing little about me!” the almighty and virile Viking sneered before departing her office. “Find the fucker who is messing with my scripts!”


“Cry baby,” Pam muttered to his departing form while reaching for the altered script.


“I heard that!”


“Bite me!”


Her speedy eyes started grazing the pages watching as the careful craftsmanship of Eric’s words were being violated by a certain ghost writer. It wasn’t a hard guess who the ghost may be, the fucker would be decidedly dead soon enough.


“What the fuck is wrong with him,” Pam uttered to herself as she walked to the source of the problem who occupied the smallest office at the end of the hall. “She uses that fairy light of hers and he turns human? As if! What’s next they run off into the sunset together and he doesn’t burn?”


She groaned when the ridiculously predictable ending appeared on the next page, he wasn’t even original enough to make it proverbial. “Cocksucker Compton!” Pam yelled into the empty office. She should have been coloured surprised by that fact, except that she wasn’t and knew exactly where to find the weasily slimeball.  Hanging over Sookie’s desk. As always. And as always she was too polite to send him off. Apparently the clear distancing line marked out on the floor and the ‘Fuck off Compton’ sign Eric installed held no meaning to the Civil War vet.


Pam wasted no time dragging him by his ridiculously casual Henley shirt and tossed him into the bathrooms. The blonde vampire remarked again the office was nice and all but it really was missing a good torture dungeon. Humans, however, were predictable enough to be disgusting when it came to these quarters so it worked in a pinch.


“I swear to Satan himself you constipated fuck if you mess with the scripts one more time I’ll stake you myself. Press tour be damned,” she yelled out at the shivering vamp. “You can’t even get a fucking Starbucks order right what makes you think you can write a decent ending? The only ending you’ll ever be able to perform is your fucking self! And you’d probably fuck that up too!”


“I’m…” he started in defence but a sharp jab of her pumps silenced him instantly.


“I don’t fucking want to hear it,” Pam raged. “See that porcelain throne, better get used to it. That’s the only one you’ll ever sit on again with a crown atop your head ever again. You’re on cleaning duty and I’m fucking ordering Mexican for the humans.”


“But I have no cleaning supplies.”


A single brow raised pointedly as she continued to look down on the whimpering fool. She considered giving him another well aimed kick of the pump but instead she raised two forefingers in front of her mouth, splayed wide and waggled her tongue at him provocatively. “Better get creative Bill.”


A nervous gulp drank down his throat before giving a submissive nod as his tongue darted out and wiped at the porcelain bowl. The blonde vampiress spun on her heels exciting the disgusting room yelling for her inept assistant, “Ginger! Bring round my car I need to drain a fucking donor!” After all that work Pam really did think she deserved a night on the town, LA sure beat bumfuck, Louisiana. “And a mani-pedi!”


“Did she fall for it,” Sookie whispered to Eric under Pam’s desk.


He listened to the departing clacks of her expensive footwear before giving the affirmative nod.


“Look at us we’re so cute,” she said excitedly holding up their counterpart dolls. It was a mystery to them both why no one recognised that they were clearly the matching set of the lot.


“I’m not cute,” Eric grumbled.


“Handsome then,” she corrected before offering a conciliatory kiss. “Hey you have no penis. It’s just plastic underwear. You never wear underwear.”


“You have no holes,” he complained as he lifted up the dress on the Sookie doll. “How are they supposed to have sex?”


“Well when I was little we just did this,” Sookie said with a small demonstration of writhing dolls.


“That’s ridiculous,” Eric retorted with a roll of his eyes. “Let’s show them how it’s done.”


“Eric,” Sookie hissed. “This is Pam’s office.”


“Exactly,” he returned with a waggle of his brow.


“Oh…” Before managing to give her affirming reply his lips already silenced any sound that would further pass hers. When he finally let her up for some much needed air she managed to stammer out between fleeting moans, “hey Eric how’s the show going to end?”


“Who the fuck cares?” he said between pronounced kisses as his hands travelled all over her body.


“Well I’m curious.”


“We end up together, laughing, fucking and killing the occasional fairy.”


“So pretty much what we do now?” Sookie breathed out.


“Yes,” Eric confirmed. “Who cares how it ends as long as we end up fucking under this table, on top of it against the wall and you know I’m fucking you up against that giant window.”


“Eri-” her protests were instantly absorbed by his mouth again and her body soon complied with his every wish as his tongue stroked her into submission. While the two eternally insatiable lovers continued their play on the fluorescent pink carpet the intern Frian Fuckner, Bill’s personal recruit, stealthily entered the room and stole away the final script to add to the altered stack he already ‘wrote’. His beady little eyes gleamed with the power he now exerted as he crawled behind his computer and in the cover of darkness wrote what he considered his magnum opus and clicked send, delivering irreparable damage in the end.



Chapter 12 – Breakdown



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