The Sunnydale Evening Star
Ask Lucretia – Practical Advice for Denizens of the Hellmouth

Dear Lucretia,

Last year I jumped off that big rickety tower on Center Street into a whirly multi-dimensional pool to save my little sister’s life (I’m so regretting that) and ended up dead. So, I was dead and minding my own business, when my so-called Bestest Friend, Treebark (not her real name), jerked me out of heaven with some magick stunt. The trip back was rankly, which made me all bad moody, so now I’m dating a guy, Horndog (not his real name, though it ought to be).

Horndog is Evil and wears a cool black leather coat. We have sex a lot even though he is not!!! my boyfriend. I enclose some sketches. I was wicked careful and kept my Luv Thang with Horndog a secret from all my friends, except for one little slip when Horndog had his hand on my ass and Doofus (not his real name, though it ought to be) saw us. Doofus was too dumb to figure out what Horndog’s hand was doing making itself comfortable on my left butt cheek, so my secret is still safe.

Horndog says he loves me, but how can I be sure? Should I continue to have rad sex with Horndog? Also, should I tell my friends? I’m pretty sure they’re going to have total attitude about Horndog.

Sincerely,
Joan (Not My Real Name)
P.S. Horndog is a vampire, but not my boyfriend
P.P.S. Horndog is wicked hot and a sex god.

Girlfriend! So what if Not Boyfriend is a vampire? Everybody’s on the path to enlightenment. Upgrade that studly hunk to Boyfriend Status and tell your friends to stuff their ‘tude where the Hellmouth don’t shine.

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Dear Lucretia,

I pinched a paper yesterday and read what ‘Joan’ wrote about me. (Not her real name! Bloody Hell! You wouldn’t believe how sack of hammers her real name is, if I told you.) Bitch made me into her sodding sex slave, that’s what she did. She loves me and she bleeding well knows she does, but only comes around my crypt whenever she feels like a booty call.

She refuses to tell her wanker friends about us, breaks my nose whenever she’s got the rag on and treats yours truly in a very shabby manner, in spite of all I’ve done for her and her brat sister. I give Joan lots of oral sex and big O’s, so I don’t see what she’s on about. Too bad she busted up my “Joan-Bot” sex doll cause Joan-Bot had a much better temper than the real Joan.

Should I casually mention to Doofus and Treebark that I’m getting a leg over on Joan?

Yours truly,
Randy (not my real name and neither is Horndog.)

Randy – Maybe you better call me for a personal consultation on those big O’s. Could be the stars are crossing you up. Bring the leather coat.

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Dear Lucretia,

What should I do about a friend who is a complete ingrate? I’m talking about Joan.

Two months ago, I sucked a couple of magick books dry, killed Bambi and brought my so-called Bestest Friend back from a hell dimension. While Joan was still in Hell, I babysat Joan’s Brat Sister all summer and kept Not My Boyfriend from humping the Joan Sex-Bot that looks EXACTLY like Joan.
I’ve hinted around that Joan should thank me for all I’ve done, but she’s too busy moping around the house and complaining that her best black dress that she was buried in got ruined when she got in a fight with a demon gang. Like that’s my fault. She disappears for hours on end and sticks me with the chores and her Brat Sister, that is when she isn’t making rude remarks about me contributing to the rent.

Blessed be,
Sapling
(Not My Real Name and I am so not a Treebark)

Girlfriend! You’re living rent free? Magick out that checkbook and stop mooching.

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Dear Lucretia,

I read what Randy said about the oral sex and the big O’s. Could I have Randy’s phone number? I’m thinking of dumping my fiancée who criticizes me all the time.

Wishfully yours,
Anya (Not my real name)

Girlfriend! Lucretia totally respects the privacy of all the people or vampires or whatever who write to her for guidance. (I found him first, Hellbitch.)

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Dear Lucretia,

I HATE THEM! I HATE THEM I HATE THEM I HATE THEM! And, I’m NOT a Kid.

Tearfully yours,
Brat Sister
(Who knows if it’s my real name? Green, swirly things don’t have names.)

Girlfriend! Of course you’re not a kid, baby. I can tell by your totally chilled way of dealing.

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Dear Lucretia,

I cannot believe that my fiancée wrote to a gossip columnist trying to hook up with Evil Dead. Randy’s going to be a speck of dust on the end of my stake for macking on Joan, not to mention hustling my fiancée, just as soon as I catch him.

Wouldn’t it be better for Joan to have a meaningful relationship with a smart, brave human with a steady union job and benefits?

Humbly yours,
Alexander Lavelle Harris
(My real name)

Guess you missed the part about the oral sex and the big O’s, Lavelle.


The End