Transylvania

“I’ve been looking forward to this trip.”

“Really?” Replies Slash who has decided to grow a mullet.

“No, where I’m old I rarely get excited.”

“Well now we’re here I guess we should make the most of it.”

“I guess we should.”

Some positive affirmations will get the old dopamine going. . .

You could be a midget

You could have a one-inch dick (mine is two inches)

You could have salmonella

You could have a got a fat chick pregnant

Your father could have an embarrassing ponytail (he actually does, fuck)

“Solgus, are you trying to be grateful that you’re not a midget again?”

“That obvious yeah?”

Slash nods his head and I curse the heavens. Whatever the higher power is, damn you.  30 years old and still a peasant. . . I fall for those Domino’s marketing texts every time – 1 large pizza for £20! It’s expensive and delicious so count me in baby.

Ketamine on the other hand is so cheap these days, an eighth for just £30. But given the quantity I buy, yes, I am terrible with money.

Shit, I could only afford this holiday because the price was massively reduced to £100 for a week. Still, we’ve made the trip and that’s what counts. Best to appreciate the time with slash as I don’t see him often. . . he moved away from Portsmouth because of an incident at a work Christmas party.

He believed to be smooching a fine young specimen called Marie. “Oh, Marie that’s such a large

belly button you have. I hear that some babies have part of their umbilical cords left on for health benefits and good fortune.”

Marie told Slash to touch the umbilical cord, which tuned out to be a different type of cord all together. Then a venomous cordial shot out from the ‘belly button’ and struck Slash on the sleeve of his new Stone Island jacket. . . an expensive birthday gift was ruined by semen and lies. Slash saw red and karate chopped the specimen in its Adam’s apple.

The police wanted to charge slash with assault, so naturally he ran away to the other side of the country.

Yes, yes, here I am with my good old karate chopping buddy, as the hotel receptionist checks us in and gives us key cards for our room. Ahh the future is wonderful, no more jangly keys for this shit 3-star castle themed hotel. . . we’ll use the trendy keycards that I’ll put in the back of my phone case, which for some shit reason makes them malfunction and unable to unlock the hotel room doors.

I do this every time. I never learn. And I never fucking will.

Just as we’re about to walk into our hotel room, Bash tells me to look over the balcony.

Can’t frigging believe my eyes. “It couldn’t be?”

“I think it’s him.”

A familiar face is working here, giving a few of the guests a talk. One of many faces that become increasingly irregular due to life turning old, stale and lame.

The old face continues talking with the guests. “Hey everyone, I’m Koby - the hotel liaison officer.” He points to a room. “That’s my office and there’s an open-door policy. As long I’ve had my morning coffee.”

“And how do you take that?” A voice asks.

“With two scoops of I don’t give a damn. Ha, ha, I’m such a libra.”

“Does Koby look different to you?” Asks Slash.

“Yes. Something is off.”

We wait for Koby to finish his chat to catch up. He sees us. “Solgus, Slash, I didn’t know you two were coming here.”

“Couldn’t resist the offer really.” I reply.

It’s a strange moment because the three of us are in the same spot for the first time in forever. The universe is discharging funky vibrations. We’ve all grown up a bit, inevitably, that’s part of life. . . but something is off here.

Something that I can’t quite put my finger on.

Slash breaks the ice. “Is everything ok with you Koby, you seem, erm different?”

“Yes, yes. It’s the new hair.”

“Yes, yes that must be it.” I say.

That’s not it but time is money, so we say our goodbyes and deposit all belongings into our room. Yes! A minifridge that operates at room temperature. I’m having me a warm Coca-Cola because I am on holiday.

Ingredients include ‘sugar’ which is Romanian for sugar. Ha, those crazy bastards sure know how to party.

One swig, two swigs, three swigs?

Please enjoy a room temp Coca-Cola – the official beverage of Transylvania.

Come on now Solgus, what do the mediation exercises always tell you?

You have to be grateful.

Be grateful.

Be fucking grateful for the shit, room temp, Coca-Fucking-Cola would you!?

Porn addiction has destroyed my ability to be present and enjoy life. Accept what you are and put the drink down because I’ve got a better idea. . . go let off a wank.

Probably shoot my load behind the toilet. Let the cleaner find the mess and ruin her day.

It’s her fault for being poor - she shouldn’t have been born in a country decimated by war. . . these unfortunate folks despise those from developed economies and who can blame them? Please join ISIS my love and make us pay.

Must finish wank

Think of all that struggle and despair the cleaner will be going through

Ruin her fucking day

Jizz up the wall

“Hurry up Solgus, we need to get to the excursion desk.”

“Just coming.” I’m also cumming all up the wall. Take that cleaner.

With empty balls and my head held high, we reach the excursion desk and shit, Koby is here too. Me and Slash side eye other because it’s now clear what is strange about our lost brother.

A Mexican standoff takes place. Nobody is saying shit. Everyone is frozen. Transylvania is a fucking spooky place and it seems that the rumours are true. . . the tin foil hat brigade are more clued up about the world than we all realise.

It’s about time for me to join a cult anyway. Like fuck am I working for another thirty years. You’ll sooner catch me as a mountain man living alone with the squirrels that I’ll befriend, then eat of course.

How are we all still here in silence?

I’ve had sufficient time to submit my application into the cult life and the three of us still can’t break the deadlock.

Thank fuck Slash finally asks the question. “Koby, are you wearing a dress.”

“What this little number?”

“Yes, that dress you’re wearing.”

“Guilty.”

“Why?” Slash asks.

“Because Zara had a sale on and this IS my colour.”

“If you say so.”

“Say it Slash. Say cornflower blue is my colour and that the of the shape of the dress accentuates my fantastic bust!”

“You look erm, great.”

“Thank you. Now if you take your attention to the spa day. I think a spot of pampering will do the two of you wonders.”

Slash just wants to get away. “Sounds good to me.”

“Me too.” I finally manage to get some words out.

Koby gives us the directions and again, we say our goodbyes. So Koby is trans now, wow. . . does that mean steak night is off the cards for him? “Are trans people vegetarian?” I enquire.

“I think vegan for the most part.”

“What about if the cow was gay, then can they eat it?”

Slash ponders this query for a second. “A trans person can’t eat the meat of a homosexual cow but would be permitted to drink it’s milk”

I reply. “But Koby’s lactose intolerant.”

“Damn the world is complicated now.”

Me and El Slash are waiting in a lobby, before being told that we will be going into separate massage rooms, by a person whose job it is to guide people into massage rooms. Phenomenal. What a life this worker leads. . . and I definitely wouldn’t want to see Slash getting rubbed down in the same room as me.

Especially after the last time.

One of Slash’s ex-girlfriends happened to be friends with African royalty, needless to say I had to have me a slice of that aristocratic vagina. . . negotiations were smooth, it was my performance that ultimately tainted my first and last ‘black extravaganza’.

“Solgus, are you thinking of the time you prematurely ejaculated inside of the princess of Nigeria?”

“God dammit Slash, will you quit it already.”

“Haha, knew it. I was over the moon to be present when it happened.”

He has always revelled in my misfortune.

That mullet having son of a bitch.

I enter my massage room - luckily, it’s sterile and has the appeal of a sexy dentist. The area feels clean, which is exactly what one needs to get over thoughts of premature ejaculation inside of an African princess.

Eurgh, maybe this room is too IKEA-esque, how the fuck did the world function before flatpack furniture and neutral tones?

“Please take off your clothes.”

“Who said that?”

“It was me, Alexa. If you could strip and lay down frontwards on the massage table. Your masseuse will be in shortly.”

Robots are the future so I will comply. Total world domination by technology sounds wonderful because imagine all your decisions, predetermined by machinery. Universal basic income. Zero hours spent at work. Unlimited leisure. . . I could finally take up badminton.

Whilst laying down frontwards on the massage table, with a towel covering my sweet little ass, the masseuse enters the room. . .

Do not look at her

Embrace the mystery masseuse

Assume they’re female

And this way you don’t have to provide a shit description of their features

Nice

Damn, the mystery masseuse really starts giving it to me. She’s dishing out the full works. . . pressing her thumbs down into my back and rotating them in circles.

She’s getting her bony little elbows into crevices that haven’t been touch in decades, if ever.

Am I in heaven?

No, you’re in Transylvania dickhead.

Can never let me have anything, can you Solgus.

Fuck off Solgus you loser.

“Oh yeah, that’s the spot. Really working on those kinks baby. Who knew I had so much tension.”

“Yes, so much tension. You’re unhappy aren’t you.”

“I guess I am mystery masseuse.”

“It’s because you’ve always felt like a woman trapped in a man’s body.”

The fuck did she just say? “What?”

“Nothing, just enjoy the massage. Ok.”

I may be a full-grown adult man but contact still gives me boners. Granted they’re not quite as robust these days but still, this penis is made for squirting and that’s just what it’ll do.

My mind’s telling me no, but my three-quarter hard dick is telling me yeah.

No, scout master Randy, don’t touch me there. . . fuck that’s not a reference to a song. This is the last time you ruin a masturbation for me, molestation memories, to the back of the brain you go!

I would like uno happy ending please.

Lalala.

And a large Fanta too, on the rocks. But first uno happy ending por favor.

“How about a you know.” I enquire, keen to test out the amenities of this place.

“A what?”

“You know?”

“I have no- err, I see. We are not that type of parlour. Get out.”

“Fine.” I go to get up and leave.

“I’m joking, you’re on holiday, relax. Please get out the old tallywacker and I’ll yank on it gloriously.” The masseuse heads over to a draw and retrieves a pencil case that is absent of stationary. . .

Strawberry

Vanilla

Banana

Cookies n’ cream

Unscented

I point at the banana option because I’m a sucker for that sweet yellow smell.

With the succulent lubricant in hand, the masseuse goes into game mode. “Just to let you know sweet lips, my wanking persona is Tina and she doesn’t take prisoners.”

“Ok Tina.”

“Shutup bitch, you’re in my playground now.”

Tina sprays the lubricant on my three-quarter hard dong.

Tina grabs me by the throat and begins tugging at my little tallywacker. “You like that do you bitch.”

Actually, yes, I do. Thumbs up to you Tina. She smirks and jerks me with supreme velocity, suggesting that premature ejaculation is on the cards. The great thing in the masseuse world is they want you to jizz as quickly as possible, meaning no pressure, only good times.

The throttling is splendid and dangerous because I don’t wanna’ be able to breathe properly.

I assist Tina in the choking and squeeze my neck with both hands, trying to squash my oesophagus. If the old voice box goes too then so be it, this aggressive and slightly rapey wank would be so worth it.

Little. more. squeezing. on. the. throat.

Ahhhh.

The squirt is sensational and leaks all over Tina’s fingers. “Oh, Tina what Large hands you have.”

“Thanks doll.”

Large hands?

“Oh, Tina such wide shoulders you have”

Wide shoulders?

“Oh, Tina such a large Adam’s apple you have”

Adams apple?

“Tina are you a. . .”

“Haha, you just tugged by a man. Gay boy, gay boy”

“Why I outta’!”

Tina hisses, revealing gigantic teeth and flies away. What the fuck is happening here?

What is this place and why would they want me to get fondled by a man?

Does this happen to all the guests?

Slash, shit, I hope he’s ok.

I burst into his room and Koby is hovering in the air and biting Slash’s penis. “Koby get the fuck away from Slash’s member.”

“Haha, it’s only a matter of time. The world is ours!”

Koby flies out of the window and I shake Slash, who is dazed and violently bleeding out from his groin region. “God. What is going on. Are you ok Slash?”

“Yes, but I have a sudden urge to compete in women’s sports.”

“It can’t be. How many fingers am I holding up Slash.”

“However many fingers you say you’re holding up, because it’s your body.”

I slap Slash around the face with maximum power and a tooth falls out. I put it under the closest pillow and wish for a tooth fairy or canine wizard to help cure my sick friend.

“Just hang in there Slash, you’re going to be ok. I mean your penis is mangled and you probably can’t have babies but who likes kids anyway? Paedophiles and annoying females called Mandy.”

Slash tells me that Mandy is a beautiful name, an elegant name.

He tells me that moving forward I should address him as Mandy. . . Slash is doomed I tell you, doomed!

Do I mean nothing to you tooth fairy?

Are my wishes beneath you?

Better start planning Slash’s funeral. I’m thinking a creative black-tie theme and no plus ones. The guest list shall be regulated because I want multiple goes on the buffet. This young man has the appetite of an obese person!

A trans person interrupts my funeral planning by entering the room. They’re wearing a medieval hooded cloak, which is XL men’s. This gigantic trans human is so feminine. So hot.

The cloaked nightmare appears highly agitated. “We need to ignite the antidote. If we don’t then his penis will completely fall off when the first moon is in the sky.”

“What the fuck is going on, you’re vampires?”

“Oh, we’re a lot more than that. We’re trans vampire’s.”

“My good god.” I continue. “But why are you helping us random trans person?”

“Because it should be a choice.”

“What is this place?”

“There’s no time to explain. We must ignite the antidote.”

“I have a mullet, so I’m halfway trans anyhow.” Slurs Slash.

I’m worried. “My god he’s sicker than I first thought.”

We head through a narrow underground tunnel that has decaying bones in the walls. Thick mud is leaking from the roof and it’s getting unbearably warm in here. I don’t wanna’ be mean because it’s helping us and everything, but the trans vampire fucking stinks. Even if you’re part of the gay undead you’re never too good for deodorant, skank. 

The heat is getting worse and hopefully Slash is coping. “Slash are you ok?”

Nothing.

“Slash?”

I turn around and Slash is laid on the floor mumbling. “I no longer wish to be a gender dinosaur. A doctor assigns the status of a boy at birth, just because he has a penis. It’s ludicrous.”                

The helper and I pick up Slash by his arms and legs, we struggle our way through the tunnel but eventually make it out unscathed.

“If someone tells you their truth, then it’s our job as humans to believe their truth and the world will be a better place.” says Slash.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. We’re losing him.” I shout.

We drag him up the stairs to the tallest tower in the castle.

“To undo the trans-vampire curse we must be a stake through the heart of the leader.” Says the helper.

“The leader?” I ask.

“Yes.” The trans person tells me to keep quiet as they slowly creep over to a vampire that’s laying down in a coffin. Let me guess – male to female transition. They always fucking are. We have to pretend that it’s normal for a pervert to put on a cute little dress and shit into sanitary towels, because blood doesn’t flow in the vadge of the trans.

The helper gives me a nod, I return one. . . in a swift motion, the helper impales a stake into the vampire’s chest. The monster remains still, gross and pale. A bob haircut suggests a butch woman.

A stern jawline suggests a male.

I suggest a Chinese takeaway, if there’s one nearby that is - because all this vampire business has me starving.

“How are you doing Slash?”

Nothing, the bloke is delirious. . . I tell the helper that the curse is coursing through Slash’s mullet and getting stronger as his hair changes into a ponytail, a plaited ponytail. The hybrid hairstyle of the sick and confused.

I’m reassured that the curse will be broken.

“Who is behind this madness?”

The vampire rises up and hovers in the air above the coffin. “Who do you think Solgus?”

“Tran Helsing, I should have known!”

“Oh, should you now?” Tran Helsing bites off the head of our helper.

That’s not good.

Nor is that - the full moon. Its white magnificence is ensuring that Slash continues saying trans stuff. “I want to feel the elegance of wearing lingerie on a Sunday morning.”

“No Slash, Sunday is scientifically the gayest day of the week.”

“He can’t hear you now Solgus – he belongs to me now, Slash’s dong will fall off and live inside of my penis cabinet. It’s time to embrace the inevitable because you’re up next. And come on, a stake through the heart, how cliche?” Trans Helsing takes a second. “Oh my god, now you think you can defeat me with Holy water?”

“Actually, this is Evian, I’m thirsty.”

“Oh, ok. I’m glad you’re hydrated because I will bite off your penis in a mo’. You’ll enjoy being a trans vampire. I know you’ve been bored with life. I know that when you was a kid your sisters dressed you up as a girl.”

“I was just a kid. I like titties now!”

“Yes, you like them so much that you’d love to have a pair installed on your body!”

“Don’t suggest things I’d enjoy. But I do want to know happened to you? You used to be a male monster hunter?”

“Correct. The Vatican were always telling me what to do. Go here, kill this beast. Telling me I was doing god’s work, whilst the whole time they were molesting boys. I figured they couldn’t molest me if I was the wrong gender and species! So, I became a woman and got bitten by a vampire. I was suffering until coming here, now I’m happy and free hehe.”

“Ok that’s good and all but why impose your ways on everyone else.”

“I find that line of questioning offensive.”

“Well, how about this!” I pull up an Andrew Tate video.

“Get it off.”

“Never.”

I am Andrew Tate and Transgender people are not my issue

“It’s so offensive get it off.”

I am Andrew Tate and I think it’s ok for boys to want to be masculine

“Ah no, just because you have a penis doesn’t mean you’re a boy.”

I am Andrew Tate and I’m not responsible for raising your child

Tran Helsing screams. “You can’t kill me I’m already trans!” Then attacks me with its vaginal laser beams that glow a misty purple.

A beam barely misses my big fat head, so I dive out of the way and hide behind a table for cover.

The full moon dominates the night sky and I’m scared that Slash won’t hold up for much longer. He’s rolling around the floor shouting. “I want to fill my room with scented candles. They will help to feed my gender curiosity.”

Fuck we’re losing slash.

Tran Helsing charges up and let’s rip an ultra-powerful vaginal laser beam which splits my cover table in half with its might and confusion. I knew that one day I would be defeated in combat by a transvestite. . . the day is nigh and it’s time to make peace with my god.

If there is a god, he’s probably trans now too. Fuck. Gotta be careful with the wording of this submission. “Thank you trans lord for your sheer bravery, you deservedly won woman of the year 2024. May you take thy penis and thy testicles for recycling purposes. I would like to gift a penis lamp to Nigeria, for I could not sexually satisfy their princess.”

In this moment of genital relinquishment, a hero is born. . . “Your penis lives to fight another day Solgus!”

“JK Rowling is that you.”

“You better bloody believe it is.”

J.K Rowling means business. “Enough is enough Tran Helsing. Throughout history when people became transvestite vampires, it marked the end of civilisation. Well not this time, not on my watch. Malfoy, attack him.”

Draco Malfoy flies into the room on his broomstick and waves his wand at Tran Helsing. “Vampires are gay!”

Draco’s spell has Tran Helsing frozen and JK Rowling informs me. “With a transvestite vampire the stake doesn’t go through the heart. It goes through the fraudulent, plant-based pussy.”

“Of course it does. It all makes perfect sense.”

I’m thrown a stake which I drive straight into the counterfeit vagina of worldwide domination.

“Eurgh no. My clit is real! My clit is real!” Yelps Tran Helsing.

“Your clit has been forged by plasticine you sick bastard.” I respond, applying more destructive force into the counterfeit vagina of worldwide domination.

Tran Helsing falls to the ground, defeated and lifeless.

Slash returns to his regular self.

This is the happiest I’ve felt in forever.

JK Rowling is more reserved. “Solgus, don’t celebrate yet. The war has just begun.”