*+Oh sweet cheese, not ANOTHER excerpt...*+ Vladimir's Mansion... Cover your eyes and brace for fail...

by Sandy in your face! (Just kidding, mwahaha. Mwahaha. Hahah. Ha.)

MY ATTEMPT AT CHOOSING WHAT TO, UM, EXCERPT ABOUT

That CAN be used as a verb, right? RIGHT!? Eh, anyways...

Author's Notes: Well, hello there. I promised that the next excerpt (this thing) would have 99.99% more Vladimir in it, which was hard, but... oh well. Anyheck, here's a quick run-through, since this thing picks up right in the middle of a complex conspiracy against our dear top-hatted friend... Maybelle is an old woman who has been on Vladimir's case FOREVER, and also has lost her mind, thus the strange things she says. She originally tried to attack Vladimir's little brother, so, yeah, Vladimir goes after her, and, like, yeah. I'm backin' up, backin' up, backin' up... Oh yeah! King Robert is basically the same thing as Maybelle, only he knows that Vladimir would rather have his crush, Natalie, than his daughter, who is this mean old turd. Also, he's a bit crazy. Because most people wouldn't try to attack a teenager for not being totally in love with someone. =^S

P.S... (*low confidence moment*) Sorry if these two excerpts stink worse than maggoty cheese... Apparently, the last one really raised the bar... 0_0 I also had to use the "Blah blah blah" things to skip a few details that wouldn't appeal to readers who don't want to spend all day on a computer... Please, no mean comments...

“We can do this the easy way,” Vladimir said calmly through tightly-clenched teeth, locking eyes with the loony old woman who was trying to attack him and his brother, who was breathing heavily like a horse, "or we can do this the hard way, Maybelle.” Lightning flashed in his eyes, but his facial expression betrayed none of the rage that was building up inside him, which, in a way, was a lot more frightening than if he had actually displayed his anger. “Which would you prefer?”

 Grey eyes wide with craziness, Maybelle opened her mouth and screamed at the very top of her lungs, “Red pianos don’t need coffee!” Yowling and screaming like a banshee, she attacked Vladimir again, flying at his throat with her wrinkled claws outstretched and ready to clamp down on his windpipe. Grimacing, he took a single step to the side, dodging Maybelle and sending her charging into the servant behind him, who immediately started to scream.

“Of course, the only fans who approach me are the ones who are completely nuts,” he muttered to himself, squinting at the old woman like he had expected a much better fight than he was getting, even from someone who was literally insane. His eyes, nearly dancing with electricity, traced the old woman’s every move, telling him when to step back or when to flash a particularly rude hand gesture straight at Maybelle (who would send them right back, of course).

 Blah blah blah blah blah blah, blah blah, blah blah. Blah blah flah blah blub glub glah blah flah flah blah. Blubbery flubbery moar words blah blah blah... Ah! Here we are...

Screeching, she flew at Vladimir, flailing and howling like a burning vampire exposed to sunlight. Startled and struck off-guard by the slightly demonic screaming and flailing, he let his flight reflex get the better of him and pressed himself back against the wall behind him, eyes wide. The servants in the area squealed and fled for cover as Maybelle rushed towards him like a cold Arctic wind and closed her hands around his pale neck with such force, Vladimir could feel his head bashing against the hard wall, sending his top hat flying off for the millionth time that day. Wincing and bleary-eyed with pain, he snarled something that was either a curse or something along the lines of “Holy fudge, that hurt, you old boot!”

... Um. Yeah. That was a kinda weird bit of what I call chapter... (*checks book*)... chapter twenty-five! Okay... now for a slightly better sneak-peek-thing at another chapter... (*flips pages around*) (*mutters to self*) I promised that there would be 99.99% more Vladimir... and I’ve got to keep my word... Ah! Here we go... How I adore fight scenes...

“You were supposed to marry my daughter!” King Robert rasped, beginning to froth at the mouth a little with fury. His face was as red as a cherry, and the veins snaking up his neck were popping out unattractively as he clenched and unclenched his thick hands repeatedly. Vladimir had absolutely no response as he hid from the enraged king, his long, thin body crammed under one of the beds and his blue eyes wide. “I’m going to MAKE you marry her if it’s the last thing I dooooooOOOOWWW! OW! GET OFF! GET OFF!” he roared.

Natalie, who was sick of this random guy prattling on and on about Vladimir’s marriage, had jumped onto the king’s royal head, tackling him and bringing him and his bloated ego to the ground. Proud of her victory and having a sudden craving for a trophy of some sort, she hurriedly grabbed the huge, golden crowd from his head, ripping out a few strands of his long, white-blond hair, and scrambled to the other side of the room, having done her job and anxious to get away from him. She had no idea what to do with the heavy golden and silver crown in her palm, but she was thinking that it involved a lovely wooden shelf and a lot of people paying money to look at it.

King Robert obviously had bigger things to worry about than a crown, no matter how complicated or expensive it was. His new focus was much more important than his crown, and happened to be tall, lanky, and precisely seventeen years old. Staggering to his feet, he tensed the small amount of muscle he had in his body and leapt into action, pouncing towards Vladimir like a slightly demented tiger.      

“Toro! Toro!” a voice cried out, and Vladimir shot from his hiding spot, a mischievous smirk dominating his pale face. Grinning slyly and pretending to be a matador, waving an imaginary red flag at the bull (who had been crowned King of Karzburg and happened to be named Robert), screaming, “Toro! Toro!”

King Robert stormed towards him, his pale blue eyes narrowed into hateful slits. Something in his face told Vladimir that he should either start looking for some kind of weapon or find someone else to antagonize. Swallowing his laughter, he quickly picked his way around the cluttered room until he had found a safe spot on the wall, and hovered close to it, shooting nervous glances back every so often to check on Natalie. King Robert, seizing the opportunity to corner the boy, rushed forward like a predator descending on its prey, completely oblivious that the prey happened to be taller and much deadlier than the predator itself.

Seeing the furious man closing in on him, Vladimir let out a gasp of surprise and, unable to control himself, reached out with his long left leg and kicked the crazed king right in the schnozz with his hard, painful, size eleven shoes. That’s gonna leave a mark, he winced to himself.

Moaning a bit, the king staggered backwards in shock, immediately clutching at his nose. For the briefest seconds, they locked eyes, and Vladimir could suddenly make out the tiniest smudge of fear in King Robert’s pale blue eyes—the fear that had been hidden deep inside of him for so long, and was finally coming out, disguised as anger.

“You’re afraid of me,” he murmured in disbelief, stepping back just a bit. Why didn’t I see this before? he asked himself, confused. Maybe it was because he had been such an obnoxious loser before he had met Sarah and Natalie, too obsessed with his own business to notice anything important, like the patterns on the floor of his own Mansion, or whether or not he could distinguish the constellations that had been painted across the ceiling of the Main Floor, or if, most importantly, he should’ve stayed far away from the Karzburg freaks and their brat of a daughter.

King Robert, poised like a scorpion ready to attack, wiped his mouth, eyes ablaze. “No, I’m not,” he growled, lying. In fact, he was more scared now than ever—Vladimir had, once again, peered straight into his soul and seen the truth. He couldn’t let his emotions betray him again—he wouldn’t allow himself. Leering away for the briefest of moments, Robert’s eyes traced the room for any sharp objects, and his fiery eyes fell upon the broken lantern, sitting not too far away from his target... Vladimir. Blah blah blah, Vladimir does this ninja move on King Robert’s face, blah blah blah, King Robert grabs the sharp thingy, walks up to Vladimir, and... oh snap.

Cliffhanger. DOES HE GET STABBED OR NOT!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?

Ahh, the suspense is killing me. Just like these little previews probably did to you, they were so horrible. 0_0 I’m so sorry I posted these... sorry for them being so long and so dragging and so meh and so...  Gah. (*facepalm*) <---- I was in a mood when I typed this! SORRY! DX

Oh, and also, you are officially not allowed to agree with me that this is a fail. :D

Thank you very much. >:^D