Hiiiiiiiiii, bb's!"

So the last few weeks and really months for me for me have been absolutely insane... My 16 year old dog was in hospice for about 4 months in our home and a few weeks ago we finally had to put him down. The whole situation involved a lot of work, heartbreak, and stress, as one can imagine, and I was especially unproductive with my writing the last few weeks of his life when things were really bad and sad. And then after my sweet Buddy's passing, I got pretty sick, probably from all of the stress and my immune system being run dow, but I'm recovered now and finally feeling completely myself! :)

So, that's basically what's been happening with me. I just wanted to give everyone a small update as to where I've been and where my mind has been...

Once things settled down, I really wanted to get something up for Halloween for you guys, but this story concept in particular ended up taking an unexpected direction. What was supposed to be Halloween based turn more into side exclusive chapter, and then since I was late anyway with the update I figured I'd just post this for fun, since I at least think it's a riot! (I know something I'm writing is funny when I'm cracking myself like a total loser LOL.)

Anyway, I hope everyone enjoys!!! I had a blast with this!!!

xoxo

Gossip Death

P.S- This chapter and the characters are exaggerated for comedic effect! So try not to associate this with what's going on in DIMBFFLAD too much! LOL.

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(I, the author, am the "I" in this chapter!)

Death strolled into my office with a scowl on his face. I had just finished writing a chapter from a secret project of mine and selected one last key with an enthusiastic click.

"Just take one, please," I said, pushing my glasses up the bridge of my nose with one finger.

Death tilted his head down at the bowl of colorful fruit candy next to the door and glared at me with a scowl and narrowed eyes.

Death wore a plain long-sleeve grey t-shirt with a fresh stain¬–food of some sort–¬ on the right pectoral. His long legs are clad in medium wash ripped jeans, and he wore warn out Nike shoes. His wavy, slash, curly raven-black hair was longer than the last time I saw it and fell to his shoulders in a disheveled way.

Noticing my critical look, Death raked his fingers through his concerning hairstyle and made a show of snatching three mini bag of skittles from my candy bowl, before plopping down on the couch in front of me. When he sat down, his stomach visibly hung over his jeans. He rested his arms on the armrest on either side of him and stared me down.

"Nice jeans," I said, unable to look away from his belly and his matted hair. Don't even get me started on the lumberjack beard he had goin' on. Damn, he'd really let himself go. "Can't say I've ever seen you wear grey, either. Or...anything besides black. What can I do you for you, Death?"

"Cut the cutesy talk, Creator," he growled. "This is strictly business."

Sighing, I swiveled my desk chair to face him and noticed a plot point list on the wall behind Death for the Death is My BFF Manuscript. My eyes widened. I quickly crossed the room Soccer Mom style and tore the papers down, balling them up and shooting them into the trash. I whistled as I returned back to my seat.

"Tell me what's on your mind, Death."

Death snaps and suddenly Glenn appears beside Death's loveseat. He wears a "I'm with stupid" t-shirt with an arrow on the shirt that points up to himself. And he has a new haircut. A bowl haircut.

I raised my hand in greeting. "Um, hi, Glenn." I look to Death. "Is this really necessary?"

Death snaps again.

"Hello, Creator," Glenn said in a bit of a rehearsed way. "You look exceptionally beautiful today."

"Thank you, Glenn," I laughed. "Hey, have you lost weight?"

Glenn blushed. "Actually, yes! I've lost twenty pounds in a week, all thanks to Manuscript Death!" He continued to chat with me like he hadn't talked to anybody in a long time. "Manuscript Death has been giving me a ton of errands lately. The heat in the Underworld combined with my unrelenting fear of what Manuscript Death will do to me if I disobey him, just burned the love handles right off of me. I've been running around like a bat out of hell!"

Rewrite Death rolls his eyes, before wiping a hand down his face and muttering something that sounds a lot like, "Give me a fucking break..."

"What kind of errands has Manuscript Death been making you do?" I wondered, finding Glenn to be so adorably awkward as usual, but also concerned that he'd clearly been overworked.

"Oh, you know," Glenn said. "The usual All Hollow's Eve things, I guess. Buying knife stock, sprinkling powdered Cyanide on the ground and making the mortals think it's an early winter–" He paused as Rewrite Death snapped a pencil from my coffee table in half–"ding-dong ditching the elderly and disabled, swapping candy bars in candy bowls for human fingers, constantly dry-cleaning His Highness' blood-stained cloak. And those are the least of the despicable things. He's really quite gruesomely creative––"

"That's enough," Rewrite Death growled. "We get it."

Glenn paled. "Sorry, my lord." A clipboard appeared in his hands and he cleared his throat. "Hello, Creator. You look exceptionally beautiful today–" He stuttered and pulled at the collar of his 'I'm stupid' t-shirt. "Sorry, I already said that." He reads on in a dramatic villain narrating voice. "Introducing His Royal Highness, Prince of Darkness, Lord Death, Fiend of the Divine, Slurpy Slurper of Seeping Souls, Second Best Death––"

Death flinched. "Cross that last one off. Who the hell wrote in that last one?"

Glenn lurched to grab a pen from his pocket and dropped it twice on the ground. He uncapped it with his mouth and quickly crossed it out. "Apologies, my lord, I don't know how that last one got there..." He clears his throat again. "Master of the Undead, Reaper of Souls, Ender of the Living, ¡La Muerte definitiva en el reino de los mortales! ¡Ay! ¡Ay! And now...for his first and foremost request..." Glen frowned at the clipboard. "A...hot...fortification with Mistress Faith?"

"Fornication," Death hissed. "It clearly says Fornication. Not fortificación."

"His Highness demands fornication with Mistress Faith," Glenn reiterated. Confused, he leaned somewhat into Death and cupped his hand over the side of his mouth. "You haven't hit that yet?"

Death snatched the clipboard out of Glenn's hands and smacked him in the face with it.

"Scram," Death snarled, all fangs. "Pillsbury Dough Boy."

Rubbing his face and grumbling words, Glenn vanished.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "You did all of that just to demand a sex scene?"

"Someone has to remind you who you're dealing with. My patience is wearing very, very thin, Kitty-Kat. And your nonstop teasing with this new better than ever "Death is My BFF Manuscript?" Yeah, that isn't making me feel much better."

I checked my watch. "I'm sorry that I've made you feel this way. You know how special you are to me and there's more that I want to say, but there's something I should tell you... Any minute now––"

"I just want my graphic sex scene," Rewrite Death interrupted. "And I mean graphic. I expect her breasts and bits to be described in full detail. Make it unforgettable. I want my mouth to water while I'm rereading it. I want to taste the words. I want the scene to fucking haunt me. Haunt me, Kitty-Kat. Like a goddamn sex scene ghost. A really wet, really dirty, really hot sex scene ghost."

"Like I've said before, it's all about the timing, Death. You have to be patient–"

"Time?" He threw his head back and laughed. "Time is in my way? Give me a Kit-Kat break, Kitty-Kat. I can stop time. Like a pause button, because I'm awesome. Need I remind you, I'm the motherf*cking Angel of Death. I'm a force to be reckoned with, so time is not my enemy. The holy trinity? Babies crying? Faith's period? Now that's another story. But we both know this little problem we have is not about timing. Your powers, I'll admit, are unmatched, Creator. Now tell me what I have to do in order to get my D into the V, before I lose my temper."

"It doesn't take much for you to lose your temper. You're kind of a volatile character."

Death gripped the ends of his armrest, his control and personality slipping into slippery territory that reminded me of the childish 2011 version of him. "I want my graphic sex scene. Give me my sex scene, you witch!"

"It seems like something else is bothering you," I said, checking my watch again. "Does this perhaps have to do with today's date?"

"The date? What's so special about today's date?"

"It's Halloween, Rewrite Death."

His mouth lifted up in a snarl. "Oh, that." He leaned back against the couch, lazy-like. "I don't celebrate that today."

"How come?"

He motions angrily with his hand to the cardboard skeleton Grim Reaper on my wall. The animatronic Grim Reaper goes off on a tangent about "reaping our souls" and the eyes glow a ruby red.

"Ah, I see..." I collected Glenn's discarded clipboard off the floor and begin writing on it. "And how does that make you feel?"

"It's not just that," he began, lounging on the couch and looking up at the ceiling as if he were in a theatrical therapy session. "It's not just the skinless Grim Reaper Halloween decorations, Creator. I'm not here, pissed off, and especially eager to eat someone alive, on Halloween, because of all the mortals defecating on my name, or the fake myths about the Angel of Death, or those ridiculously small plastic scythes held by those annoying...children. No, not this year, Creator. Not this year."

"Then what's got you so angry?"

His fingers rolled into a fist. "Manuscript Death."

I looked up from my clipboard, startled. The mere mentioning of his name made me shift a little bit uneasily. "Manuscript Death?"

"Yeah, Manuscript Death. Are you deaf? That's what you call him, right?" He made a face. "And I'm the Rewritten Death on 'Watt-pa-d.' Whatever that means."

I steadied my gaze against his. "Has something happened, Death?"

"Yes, something has happened! As if you don't already know!" His went glossy.

I waited patiently for him to continue.

"He's bullying me."

I cleared my throat to hide a small burst of laughter. "I'm sorry. Are you saying that Manuscript Death is... bullying you?" I couldn't control the next burst of laughter and cover my hand in a cough.

Death gave me a flat look. "It's not funny. He wants to eliminate me. I can see it in his cold, freaky undead eyes."

I started laughing again.

"This is serious! He's could destroy me!"

I started coughing to stop the laughter. "Right, right, it's serious. I just have a little tickle in my throat. It's more of a tick, actually." I clear my throat again. "Writers get ticks. Anyway, carry on. He's trying to destroy you, you said?"

"He said," Death continued in a rage, "I'm whiney, silly, and severely undeveloped. He said I'm Beta. What the fuck is that supposed to mean? And by the way, I'm the one who's supposed to be keeping Glenn starved, not him! Do you have any idea how much harder I've had to work Glenn because of Manuscript Death's unmatched cruel demands? Don't think I haven't noticed you bleeding his characteristics into the last couple of chapters, either! Because I've NOTICED!"

The surrounding technology, including my phone, begins to stutter, as the lights strobe in and out. My back straightens as the hair at the back of my neck stands on end. "Rewrite Death... There's something I have to tell you."

Rewrite Death's mismatched eyes looked a little watery as he was caught up in his emotions to realize what was happening. He looked up at the flickering lights and blew his nose loudly. "Did you forget to pay your electric bill?"

"Good evening, Creator," Glenn interrupted, emerging from a burst of flames. There was a visible tremble to his shoulders and sweat bubbled his forehead. "You look exceptionally beautiful today..."

"What are you doing here?" Rewrite Death demands, giving Glenn a quick once over. "I thought I got rid of you, thing. Why are you quaking like that and repeating your script?"

Glenn looked back over his shoulder at the door. A black mist began to creep out from under the door, shadows stretching out like fingers and tendrils spreading across the wall. When Glenn looked back at us, his face had gone stark white. "Introducing the Man, the Myth, the Legend. His Highness, Ruler of the Death is My BFF Manuscript, Prince of Darkness."

Just then, the door to the room blew off its hinges.

A man–beast–angel-demon–er– creature?–ducked underneath the archway and entered my office. I couldn't help but instantly compare the two characters. Manuscript Death's mismatched green eyes were more animalistic and wicked, and the jagged scar slashing down his pierced eyebrow and through his cheek was meaner, crueler, making him look more vicious, paired with a few other small scars on his exposed skin. His hair was shaved shorter on the sides of his skull, obsidian wavy locks styled in a fauxhawk. He had a few more metal piercings than Rewrite and the planes of his face were sharper, masculine, and otherworldly, in a way that trapped him somewhere between beautiful and terrifying. Manuscript Death stood a few inches taller than Rewrite Death, with broader shoulders that filled out his leather jacket and branchy tattoos that crawled up his neck and a portion of his face. Beneath his jacket he wore a black t-shirt and black leather pants with heavy duty work boots.

"Kitty-Kat," he greeted with a half-grin that communicated something naughty was on his mind. I relaxed as I realized he's in a frisky mood. He turned his head to Rewrite Death and makes a disgusted face, before nodding in acknowledgement. "First Draft."

Rewrite Death sat up, furious. "First Draft?"

"I mean, am I wrong?" Manuscript Death plopped down in the chair beside Rewrite and man spread his legs. He caught my rebellious gaze after it snagged on his crotch and puckered his pierced lips in a slow air kiss. My face suddenly felt hot.

"Actually, I'm the Second Draft," Rewrite corrected.

"Don't care." Manuscript Death struck a match against the heel of his boot to light his cigarette. "You've got shit on your shirt, bro."

Rewrite Death tilted his head down to his shirt and frantically wiped at the stain. "Damn it." He tilted his head back up to glare at Manuscript Death. "Don't smoke around our Creator, you polished dickhead."

"Rewrite," I said sternly. "Language."

Manuscript Death exhaled smoke from his nostrils and the scent of cherries permeated the air. "Yeah, language," he taunted. "Nice Dad-belly, RD. No wonder Faith isn't attracted to you anymore. You're crumbling like Feta by the second."

Rewrite Death turned red in the face. "Faith and I are on a brief break, and it's not because she's unattracted to me." He looked desperately to me to. "Right?"

I tuck my lips inward.

Manuscript Death snickered under his breath.

Rewrite Death looked as if he were ready to explode. "If you think you can steal my woman, you're sorely mistaken, psycho. All versions of Faith are mine. Past, present, and future!"

Manuscript Death cocked an eyebrow and lazed back in his chair, gazing at his past self with a passive expression. He took a long drag from his cigarette.

"Why isn't he responding?" Rewrite Death demanded. "Why is he looking at me like that all silent and mysterious?"

"He does that," I explained.

"It's not tobacco," Manuscript Death finally said, smoke trailing out from between his fangs as he spoke. "It's a roll up with herbs to curb my hunger. Which you would know, if you weren't such an underdeveloped version of me."

Rewrite Death gasped. "Are you just going to let him talk to me like that, Creator?"

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Manuscript Death, please stop tormenting your younger version."

"Or what?" Manuscript Death's mismatched eyes cut to mine, mischievous and gleaming like a cat's wicked eyes under a flashlight. "Are you going to spank me, Kitty-Kat?"

Rewrite Death makes a face and then purses his lip in consideration. "If he gets spanked, I want to get spanked, too."

"Are we going to discuss my purpose here, or what?" Manuscript Death asked, ignoring Rewrite entirely. "You said I could read the Pilot of my upcoming TV show. I demand to read the material. I am the star, after all."

"But I thought I was going to read that first," Rewrite Death complained, his incessant whining getting on my nerves. Maybe he really was crumbling like Feta cheese.

"Boys," I said, beginning to get overwhelmed, "I brought you both here for a reason–"

"Only the best Death should read the pilot," Manuscript Death continued, snuffing out his cigarette on the ashtray beside him. "If it weren't for me picking up the slack the last few chapters, Faith would have had us confused with a juvenile little lovebug crybaby."

"I haven't lost my edge," Rewrite Death growled. "I've just been...going through a phase."

"It's called preparing to go into storage," Manuscript Death quipped. "Kitty-Kat's been working on my beautiful manuscript for years, RD. Blood, sweat, and tears to create her true vision. I'm her Golden Boy. A glorious force of nature. A sex god with a wrath unlike any other. You see, Rewrite Death, you're breaking apart at the seams. Literally. Your pants are ripping at the thighs." He swivels his beautiful but tormented face to me. "I'll make this easy for you. Look him in the Dad-belly and look me in my deep carved abs and tell me I'm not the best Death."

He lifted his t-shirt to reveal the taut muscles of his tan, tattooed stomach. I had to remind myself that I had a boyfriend thirty times before I finally managed to tear my gaze away.

Rewrite Death trembled with rage, but I compelled him with my Author powers to remain seated.

"I guess loyalty isn't a new quality in our development," Rewrite Death growled. "What would Manuscript Faith think about you buttering up our Creator by showing off your physique?"

Manuscript Death ground his fangs together and slowly ungloved his tattooed hands. He vanished in a burst of black mist and reappeared behind Rewrite Death. Gripping his matted shoulder-length hair with one gloved hand, he brought Rewrite's head back at a sharp angle and primed the talons of his other hand at Rewrite's throat.

"Get your impressive claws off of me!" Rewrite Death snarled.

I pinched the bridge of my nose for the umpteenth time. "I should have never gave you both my address."

"Kitty-Kat," Manuscript Death purred, blackness collecting in his wicked eyes, "either control, alt, delete this mega dork from the face of this fucking planet, or allow me to grate his head down to his neck like a block of cheddar cheese."

"You can't bully and destroy your past draft," I said, since it was time to settle this feud once and for all. "Rewrite Death is falling apart and emotionally unstable, but not for the reasons that you think. He's falling apart because you refuse to embrace the pieces of him that I incorporated into your new and improved version. You might be a rewrite of my character, but the truth is, in a lot of ways, you're just an extension of your previous drafts. You still have Rewrite's volatile temper, but in a more calculated way. You still have his sarcasm and witty one-liners. You still have dramatic entrances and catlike tendencies. You're in denial that you still have some of Rewrite Death's characteristics because you're rougher around the edges and more monstrous now. But that's simply not true. Despite your changes, you're still hilarious and playful. You're still a big cat. It just takes some time for you to be yourself around Faith. As it should be, since you're over two-thousand years old and stubborn as hell. I guess what I'm trying to say is, Rewrite's playfulness and goofiness is still inside you, it just takes time for you to blossom. Hashtag, character arc and character development."

"That was beautiful, Creator..." Rewrite Death blew his nose into a tissue, paused, and frowned. "Wait, what?"

"Did you just say his goofiness is inside of me?" Manuscript Death growled, repulsed. "I'm blossoming? What the hell kind of manuscript did you write? I'm not a Monarch butterfly with a Pee-wee Herman laugh. I'm the goddamn Angel of Death."

"Now who's falling apart?" I asked.

Rewrite Death burst out laughing.

Shadows collected around Manuscript Death as fury tightens his sharp features into something otherworldly. A muscle in his tattooed neck twitched. "Touché, Kitty-Kat. It seems I have no other choice but to use other–" His pierced eyebrow cocked–" unorthodox ways to persuade you to alliance with me."

"Didn't you hear anything she just said?" Rewrite Death stood up, and my eyebrows crunched together at the fact that his Dad-belly seems to have gone down a little. "Everything makes sense for me now. Manuscript Death, you're still first and second draft Death, but you've matured, and you have a ton of more layers. Like an onion. Or a VSCO girl's outfit in the Fall. Sksksksks."

Manuscript Death seemed troubled by this realization and scrubbed a hand over his shadowed jaw. "So, what you're saying is, even though I'm meaner, edgier, more sarcastic and mysterious, manipulative, heartless with a higher disregard for mortals, and more monster than man with a clearer character arc, and even though the whole manuscript and the brand new scenes Kat added are one-thousand times better than yours, I'm still the same old Death?"

Rewrite Death clasped Manuscript on the shoulder. "Exactly. And I think that means it's almost time for me to hand off the baton."

"Suddenly I feel...strange. Like I don't want to rip your head off as much." Manuscript Death shifts on his feet and sniffs once. 

"Awwww, my boys are having a moment," I cooed.

"The only thing that would make this moment better would be a murderous rampage," Rewrite Death said. He looked pointedly at me. "Or a graphic sex scene with Faith."

Manuscript Death grins like a piranha. "Oh, do I have a story for you..." The two of them fall into a detailed discussion, involving Manuscript Death drawing on a piece of paper.

I shook my head with a smile and turn my chair around to face my laptop, pushing my glasses up my nose. Now that both D's were finally getting along, it was time to get back to work on the epic ending to Death is My BFFLAD Rewritten.

***

HOWDY!
Again, this chapter and the characters are exaggerated for comedic effect! So try not to associate this with what's going on in DIMBFFLAD too much! LOL. 

Also, Death is My BFF the new manuscript is going out to another list of publishers to consider, so keep those fingers and toes crossed! I wish the submission process was much faster as I am eager for you guys to finally get your hands on this tasty manuscript (trust me, it is SO worth the wait!!!), but in this industry and also in Hollywood (and in life, hehe) you have to be suuupper patient for the beautiful things you want to start happening!!! <3333

I hope you all enjoyed this idea that I had for this chapter! AND GET PUMPED FOR THE NEXT CHAPTERS!!! :) 

All my love,
Kat

Please follow me on my social media and join the Death is My BFF Facebook group if you want to keep supporting my journey!!! Link to Facebook group is on my profile. ;)

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