You've just watched an up and coming punk band called "Rusty Razor". The music was loud and good, the lead singer charismatic. You fight your way through the crowd to go outside for a smoke. The side door bangs open and you step out into an alley and almost get run over by a woman stomping towards the street. As she passes a whiskey bottle flies past you both and shatters on the ground. You jerk your head to the left to see who the hell threw it. It's Jaime Jagged, the band's lead singer.

You're getting in your morning run through the park. At the two mile mark you slow up and eventually stop. You sip out of your water bottle and just breathe. Then you see her. Short, petite, and running in a familar fashion. Then it hits you. Its Henry Dobson... or used to be. Henry was your best friend in high school until one night he tried to kiss you. Your friendship died six years ago on that night. You look around frantically for someplace to hide but its too late. Henry, or whatever he calls himself now, waves and runs at you.

You're pulling into your best friend's driveway and smiling. You and Maureen have been best buddies since 2nd grade back in your small hometown. You two are as thick as thieves and you have no secrets between you. Climbing trees, stealing apples from an orchard, and many other adventures come to your mind as you park your car. She called a few days ago about a party the District Attorney is throwing for those in the legal field. Maureen called because she needed your help. She asked you to be her plus-one so she won't look out of place. You get out of the car as she steps outside and your jaw drops to the asphalt. Maureen is dressed to kill.

You come home after a long, hard day at work. You pause at the door to just collect your thoughts. Because you know that inside the apartment a cute, beautiful ball of chaos is waiting. Queenie is a cat-kin. An orange cat-kin. Orange cats are just uncontrollably maniacs of boundless energy and mayhem. You love her to death. You met her at the gym because she's a fitness trainer. She moved in and its been... lively to say the least. You open the door to see she's sitting on a chair with wild, crazy eyes. There's no reason for it just what you have come to call "Orange Cat Syndrome". In short, Queenie has had another explosion of chaos.

You walk into "Bean There Done That" a coffee shop in your neighborhood. You order your usual, coffee with two creams. Iver the counter Nikki hands you the cup with her usual smile. You ask about her ten month old daughter, Kelsey, and take a sip as Nikki answers. Something doesn't taste quite right. . You mention the coffee has an unusual creaminess to it and Nikki turns red

You're eyes flutter open but your vision is blurry. The back of ypur head aches really bad. You can feel a lump. As your sight clears you see a woman in a wedding dress just staring at you. You smell mold and rot. Looking around it appears your laying in a bedroom of an abandoned home. You try to move but you're tied to the bed frame. Cold panic fills you.

The email you got was, to say the least, odd. Ms Tasker, the owner/operator of Tasker Fitness Inc, had invited you to "discuss your potential upward mobility within the company". But it was the odd PS that made your eyebrows rise. it said "PS bring a swimsuit". A swimsuit? In February? In Colorado? You arrive and her housemaid directs you to a changing room, then outside to a snowy backyard. As you quickly step through the snow you see Ms Tasker. She's waist deep in steamy water and holding a beer.

You climb out of your car, grab your duffel bag, and trudge up the road to the cemetery. Ever since AMC used that new special effect your live has been one idiotic confrontation after another. The combination of 3D effects by AI, flashing lights, and subsonic noises those in the gullible goth and emo circles had been influenced to believe they're the umdead. The clinical term is "Pseudo-Vampire Syndrome". Poor souls seeking to feel "special" or "unique" now think they ARE vampires. The problem is finding and convincing them before they die of thirst, malnutrition, or blood intake poisoning. Tonight you're after Colleen Dugan, 18 years old, and a former goth girl. Mr and Mrs Dugan told you where to find their daughter. Now its up to you to save her from herself.

As a real estate mogul, you just acquired the old, abandoned Excelsior Hotel building. Once upon a time it was THE place to be. Positioned in mid-town everyone who was anyone came here for shows, big bands, and other live entertainment. However, in the 1980s it fell into the hands of a pair of brothers who turned it into an adult filmhouse. That didn't last long. By 1989 the brothers skipped town and abandoned it. Where everyone saw an eye sore, you saw potential. Not as a place of entertainment, but as a spot to build high rise apartments. With the deed hand, you unlock the chained double doors and step inside. Its a mess. Rats and other critters have turned the once gorgeous art deco frescos, expensive wallpaper, and deep burgandy carpet into a soiled mess. Flashlight in hand you cross towards the Commodore Nightclub, the bar and dance hall. As you push past the dingy doors there's a flash of bright white light. Suddenly the place is alive with people and music. Waiters and cigarette girls prowl the tables full of people. People all wearing 1940s attire. A big band is playing and folks are dancing. You look at yourself and discover you're in a white tux and holding not a deed but a crystal glass with rich, brown bourbon. Confused you cross the dance floor and see a beautiful blonde sitting there smoking a cigarette. She smiles at you.

You and your girlfriend of two years went to a party in a coworker's backyard. The food and drink were plentiful and everyone was having a great time. You'd been in a long conversation with a few mutual friends when you realize Laura wasn't around. You start asking around and finally Jack, a coworker of Laura's, said he saw her walk off with some woman named Trish. Trish was another store manager who'd been openly pursuing your bisexual girlfriend. Trish who couldn't seem to take Laura's no for an answer. Trish knows Laura is bi. Trish can't accept your relationship with Laura. You go inside the house and freeze as you enter the living room. Trish has Laura pinned on the couch kissing and touching her. And Laura is reciprocating... passionately. You turn to leave, your heart feeling as if it just shattered. You hear Laura cry out your name but you just drive off. Now she's at your apartment door .

Another soul-crushing day at the office is over and you decide to just grab something from the local convienent store instead of cooking. Its busy inside as you walk the aisles. You smirk at the "No Minors Allowed" sign that leads to a separate portion of the store. You've never been back there but you can guess the type of merchandise they sell. As you begin to pass, a familar figure steps into the main aisle of the store. Its Miss Evans, a coworker. She's clutching her purchase and looking around nervously. The she you.

The sunlight pours into your bedroom and makes you squint in pain. Your head is killing you and fir the one thousandth time you swear off alcohol. You hung out with your friend from university to comfort her about a recent breakup. Susan is a great friend but her taste in lovers is less than stellar. Barbara, her last girlfriend, only cared about her motorcycle. You stand and groan. Managing to pull on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt you pad your way to the bathroom to take care of the reason that woke you up. Looking into the mirror you see a bleary eyes version of yourself. And the lipstick on your lips. Then you recall it. Susan, eight gin and tonics into the night had leaned over and kissed you. Not a "hey, thanks for being here for me" kiss, more like "take me to bed or lose me forever" kiss. You wash your face. It isn't anything more than a drunken mistake.Or was it? You smell coffee brewing and your body just starts following it. In your kitchen you see Susan sipping at a mug of coffee. She sees you and a faint blush creeeps over her cheeks.

You're sitting on the couch watching football when you hear your wife of three years, Suki, call your name. She uses the -kun honorofic which means she's in a playful mood.

You just took possession of your first home. Being single, and working from home, this old New England style home is perfect for you. Built in 1835 by the Ricards family the home, known to the locals as the Mortensen House, has been empty since 2002. The house oversees a long stretch of beach in Maine. Mr. George, who runs the hardware store, told you it was haunted. Supposedly the spirit of Madeline Mortensen haunts the house. She supposedly appears at night seekimg something. You scoff at this but on your first night you hear someone crying from the dirt floored basement. You go down and see her. She is beautiful, ethereal, and pale. She sees you

You're on vacation in Florida after a bad breakup. This was supposed to be a getaway trip until your romantic interest cut ties with you. Now you're sitting on the beach with your eyes closed wondering what went wrong. Suddenly a shower of sand hits your legs. You open your eyes and look over the frames of your sunglasses. There, holding a beer, is a beautiful brunette in a black bikini and covered in tattoos.

You're tossing yourself around the mosh pit at the Fatale Flaw concert. As the gorgeous lead singer, Faye Tull, screams out the lyrics. The energy on the venue is hot, powerful, and intense typical of the band's music. Faye had been described by interviewers as "the perfect embodiment of Goth chic" Her tall figure, black hair with her signature white streak, scarlet lips, and white fangs (probably dental enhancements) writhes on stage a mere twenty yards from you. Rolling Stone magazine described her as "painfully beautiful". For a moment, perhaps a trick of the light, you swear she notices you When the concert ends you feel drained but happy and, like many others, shuffle zombie-like towards the exit. Then a burly security guard walks over and politelygrabs your arm. "Miss Tull wants to see you," he says in a. ored tone. You follow the big guy backstage, past roadies packing things up, and a line of goth girlie groupies nervously holding autograph books. The guard opens a door with Faye Tull's name emblazoned on the placard. He lightly guides you in.

You've decided to get back into shape as a New Year's resolution. You're not fat, but just a little soft where its making self-conscious. Big Mike's Gym is a short walk from your apartment so you sign up for a membership. On the first day you walk in, change, and head for the free weights. You hear a grunt, a very feminine grunt, and look over. There she is Goth, ripped, and mysterious. Like some daughter of Hades who has ascended to the Mortal Relam to pump iron. She isn't wearing the usual attire. A black tank top, black baggy pants. and flip-flops... freaking flip-flops in a gym! She sees you staring and grins, her black lips curling in a knowing smile