Yesterday, I was out searching the sidewalks for candy wrappers so I could make a new candy wrapper vest. At first it was just a normal day, but things started to get weird when I met a woman in an alley. She wore a purple tee-shirt with Justin Bieber’s face on it and was crouched on the ground like a puma about to strike.
“Can I help you?” I asked.
She just screamed “Beliebe!” and leapt at me, then started biting my neck. I pulled her off and ran out of the alley and didn’t stop running until I got back home.
I checked my neck in the bathroom mirror and found a bit of blood and teeth marks, oddly shaped like Canada. I slapped a bandage on it and went about my day, sorting and sewing my candy wrapper vest.
All throughout the day, I found myself singing pop songs and craving the screams of pre-teen girls. After several hours of this, I blacked out and woke up in my bed, as if nothing had happened. It was just another strange dream caused by too much beer and random pills I mistook for vitamins.
I headed into the bathroom and checked myself in the mirror again. The bandage was still there, but it wasn’t much of a concern. My hair had turned in the night from red to blondish brown and it stood up like some sort of fluffy porcupine. And my face had grown longer and more boyish.
There was no doubt about it: I had become Justin Bieber. My cravings grew as I stared into the mirror, the urge to sing, the urge to post selfies on Instagram, the urge to get a DUI. I’m now convinced that Justin Bieber is just a series of vampires, turned by ravenous fans mind controlled to make more Biebers when the current one wears out.
If I’m not able to return to normal, I might have to hire someone to slay me. But that’s going to be a problem. I know with regular vampires, you can use sunlight or a stake to the heart. But how you do you kill a Bieber?
Note:
This may still actually be a strange dream caused by too much beer and random pills I mistook for vitamins. I’ve blogged under the influence before.
Cartopia 