Creative Writing: Strangers In The Dumpster

Friday Evening

Alaric occupies a familiar stool at the Grill; a sulky, raven-haired vampire beside him, filling him in on recent developments.
“So apparently this Elijah asshole is one of the originals, and Klaus is the original, original.”
“So, old then. And apparently hard to deal with.”
“Right. Too hard,” Damon gestures with his drink, nearly sloshing amber liquid onto the bar top.
“And Katherine says Klaus needs Elena because she’s from the ‘Petrova’ line?”
“Because she’s The Petrova Döpleganger. Whatever the hell that means.”
“Ok, there’s something I don’t get here though. Rose, I kind of understand giving her the benefit of the doubt. She’s done nothing to indicate duplicity here. But Katherine? Why should we believe anything she says?”
“It jives with what Rose knows, and explains why she was so keen on getting to Elena in the first place.

“No, Elena is the physical duplicate of Katherine. I’m talking freckles in the same patterns.”
“I don’t want to know how you know that.”
“What can I say? I’m an observant guy,” the vampire shrugs emphatically.
“You’re a lecherous old man, is what you are.”
“Come on! You have to admit that they are both lovely specimens. It’s not even crossing any teacher propriety lines if you admit it about Katherine,” he adds with a quirk of his eyebrows.
“I plead the fifth, because no matter what my answer is, this conversation is already veering in a direction that I’m not comfortable with.”
“You are such a stick in the mud. No, you know what you are? A fuddy-duddy.”
Ric suppresses a laugh to avoid asphyxiation by Scotch and soda.
“Seriously?,” he studies Damon’s pale face, looking for signs to confirm that his friend is as tipsy as he