FiFi Jo Bites Back!

I awake to find my head in it's usual position - smack down on a bar table. The lights seem to be dimmer than usual for a backwater club, and the shrieks of it's patrons somewhat louder, and not in any romantic way. Wishing I could go back to sleep, I raise my head and look for Veronica (my oldest friend turned rival turned best buddy again). I find her sitting on the stage talking to - no wait! It can't be, but it is! She's doing it again! Veronica is trying to get her buffed and polished hands on Steve Kilbey - MY beloved arch-nemesis (and Australia's Finest Rock God Sexy Lead Singer of melodic art rock band The Church). Hang on, why is she glowing at him like that? And why are her teeth so sharp and pointy and why oh why is her red lipstick dripping upon the stage? I always new she was a vamp, but this is ridiculous!

I saunter over to give her a piece of my ego-bruised mind when I start to take notice of my surroundings. For a full club there seems to be no one dancing and an awful lot of making out going on, and all about the neck. Also, an extraordinary amount of people passed out in what looks like an extraordinary amount of Bloody Mary mix. Will have to take note that Bloody Mary's are making a comeback in all the unhip places. Shake my glossy blonde head (if a little vodka soaked) to clear it. Hmmmm, if the part of my brain still sober enough remembers, this looks like a scene out of 'From Dusk Till Dawn'. Egads! I'm surrounded by non-discriminatory blood sucking vamps! And they look a little pissed.

I have a quick decision to make. Head for the exit or save my beloved (who hasn't returned any of my calls, texts or notes written on rocks thrown through his window lately)? Depart and live or stay and try to stop Veronica's plans to steal yet another not-quite boyfriend? Veronica now has King Kilbey in a headlock, with his neck exposed, his back arched and legs akimbo. I tell you dear readers, if my loins weren't feeling fear right now they would be feeling something very opposite! My ego-bruising wins out and I fling myself at Veronica as she goes in for the kill.

Alas! Phillips, Veronica's Driver/Security Guard, is upon me in an instant and has me in a head lock too. "Don't move" he orders me. I don't. He's glowing like my 80's neon 'Choose Life' T-Shirt and smells like rotten flesh. This can't be the end of my life, I have so much to do! Who will let my mail order Russian boyfriend out of the box when he arrives? Who will keep the bottle shop I live over afloat if I am their only customer (trust me, they can't keep up with my demands as it is)? Who will, well, that's about it I guess. Nothing to live for anyway it seems. Go ahead then Phillips - do your best!

To Be Continued (Bwah ha ha ha!)