CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

But he definitely noticed the reptilian eyes when they crashed through his window, propelled by a meaty, half-ton dino-piston of rage and mounted in a sturdy, bone-plated skull.
It crashed right into Jonathan, sending him flying out the front door.
Jonathan jumped up off the lawn, dusted himself off and sauntered back into the house, punching down a couple loose hanging door boards as he went.
"Hello, Rumpbeard," he said, stepping over the threshold. "Fancy seeing you here."

CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

Jonathan Mooseknuckles had just stepped inside his home, feeling pretty swaggy after the sex-in-public, when the phone rang.
"Mooseknuckles, talk me" he said. He was, like, 600 years old and sometimes went a little too far trying to sound young.
"What up, Ebrola?!" It was Marco, one of his friends from school and also from being a vampire.
"Yo, yo, yo!"
"Broseph!"
"What it is!"
"What's uuuuuup?!"
"Que pasa?"
"Ça va?"
This went on for some time. Eventually they got down to business, though. Vampire business.
"You comin' tonight, dawg?" ask Marco, the matter-at-hand finally penetrating the thick fog of his bro brain. His broin.
"I already came once!" yelled Moosknuckles and the conversation once again spiraled into a horrible loop of bro-isms and dudeology.
It was hard to hear and not super pleasant to write.
"Hey, Marcoroni, can we drop it for a minute? I'm alone here."
"Oh, thank Christ," said Marco.
"Yes, the original vampire. What'd you want to talk about?"
"Oh, I was wondering if you were planning on coming to the soiree tonight?"
"Maybe I am. Where is it?"
"The Beef Curtain."
"Ugh. That place is tacky," whined Mooseknuckles.
"Yeah, but they're good to us."
"Yeah, OK. I'm in."
"Great, see you there."
"Lates."
For the entire course of the conversation, Jonathan Mooseknuckles failed to notice the reptilian eyes watching him from the tree line.

CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

Let's check in on Jonathan Mooseknuckles.
When last we saw him, he was nutting in some lady in a bar after tearing apart a racist misogynist. Also, some pirate dinosaurs or dinosaur pirates, I guess, were looking for him.
You may remember the pirate captain, Rumpbeard, as a T-Rex.
That's different now. Now he's a pachycephalosaurus. I can make changes like that. I'm the narrator.
If you can't quite picture a pachycephalosaurus, here's a snapshot. They're about nine feet long, bipedal. They weigh about 250 pounds. And their heads! Oh man, their heads. They've got a hard, domed noggin with a crown of nubbly horns it can use to ram stuff. Like a police car. Or a teenage boner.
Rumpbeard was a pretty typical specimen.

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

Shersh caught Vonce up to speed on Snuffles. They wolfed up and began to search.
"No eating him when we find him, though."
"Right!"
She lobbed him his leather coat.
They trotted around the carnage in increasing circles. Shersh was the one who found Mr. Snuffles' tracks. They followed them about 20 yards where they ended... and another set of bloody moleperson footprints began.
They led toward one of the tunnels.
Shersh and Vonce sprinted after them.

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

The sex thing wasn't the unjust universe thing, just to be clear.
That's about to happen right here.
"I love getting your motor running," Vonce said, his fingers tracing lazy curves along her human belly.
"You remind me of my first car, which is crazy for me to be nostalgic about because I'm a teen and so far it's my only car."
"Oh yes?" said Shersh, happy to have some chatter occupying her otherwise empty, orgasm-cleared head.
"Yeah," said Vonce, simultaneously pinching her nipple and his. "It's a Volkswagen Rabbit."
Shersh sat bolt upright.
"Mr. Snuffles!"

CHAPTER FIFTY

Vonce and Shersh lay in a panting, furry cuddle on the Bilf skin rug.
Bilf had been an insufferable, selfish, rich, spoiled, controlling, rich prick and his ex-boyfriend flaying him, turning his skin into a parachute-cum-rug (not that cum) and then defiling his soft pink skin with an act of wild lupine jubilation lends credence to the idea that there is justice in the universe.
There's an upcoming thing, though, that may make you question that.
"Your heart," said Vonce, his head resting on Shersharmjorp's furry chest, "It's beating like a rabbit."
'Rabbit,' thought Shersharmjorp. What did that remind her of?
Oh, right!
"Be right back," she said, darting into the house.
She came out a human. A fully naked human.
"Use this on me," she said, handing over the sex toy.
Vonce did.

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

Once again, Mr. Snuffles saw everything.
He was a rabbit, so his vision in the dark was pretty good. And he just felt comfortable in earthen holes.
In fact that eyesight, coupled with the fact that he was neither giving nor receiving a faceload of wolf junk let him see something the wolves had missed.
There was one more moleperson. She'd been hiding under one of the many piles of molecorpses.
She slid her way out now and slowly, carefully made her way toward the rabbit.
Mr. Snuffles twitched with excitement.