Pretty Fly for a White Guy (by The Offspring)
Summary: Bill undertakes a transformation in his appearance to win Sookie back and in doing so makes himself into even more of a laughingstock than he was originally.
Characters: Bill, Pam, Eric and Sookie
Rating: 'T' for language, some phonetic spelling and for the assassination (both literally and figuratively) of the main character.
Disclaimer: Thank God I do not own Bill, though I don't own any of the other SVM characters either, nor do I own the song that inspired this.
Tonight was the night that Bill Compton was finally going to retrieve his woman. He had pulled out all the stops, knowing that anything less than giving his all to this endeavor wouldn't be enough to make her see that he was the vampire she wanted and needed. After much contemplation as to why she had thrown him over for another, he felt that maybe she thought that he was too unbending in his ways and sought to make a drastic change to show her that he could be what she wanted. He had even gone so far as to consort with some local youths that he found loitering on a street corner downtown looking for pointers on how to get his woman back.
Once he learned that 'the bitches were all up on a homey with green like dogs on a steak' he decided to take their advice to heart. It seemed to work for them, as while he was standing there speaking with them, multiple women came up to them and offered to perform sexual favors on them for a small fee. While he was a man of some means he'd never been the flashy type, but he knew he needed to show her he too could 'get his freak on'.
Asking what looked to be the head 'homey' for clothing advice had really helped his cause as well. More than happy to help him shop for the appropriate items for a nominal personal shopper's fee, the well-dressed young man had proceeded to show him exactly what an over-sized athletic jersey, a sun visor worn upside down and cocked to the side, a new pair of 'sneaks' – which he found out were actually brightly colored tennis shoes – and some visibly enticing armbands could do for him.
Indeed, it made him freaky.
He eagerly bought multiples of each item, along with a large quantity of clothing for his new friend, and they happily made their way to a mall kiosk displaying all sizes of gold chains and decorative medallions in a dizzying array of shapes and colors. His homey proceeded to grab several thick chains and a couple of the medallions, along with a couple of rings, and told Bill that it was essential to his street cred for him to be 'drippin' in tha bling'. While Bill was unsure as to the advisability of walking around displaying so much wealth so openly, he concluded his new friend would not knowingly steer him wrong, and besides, this was necessary to obtain his woman's undivided admiration. They were already getting several looks from passing female shoppers and it only lent credence to the young man's assertions.
Though he had been advised to wear some overly large denim blue jeans belted just under his hips, Bill had been unable to properly tuck the jersey into them and still keep the jeans from falling to his ankles as he walked, so he chose a nice looking pair of dark khaki Dockers that complimented the bright purple and yellow of his new LA Lakers jersey instead. Unsure as to what color cotton turtle-neck in his collection would work best, he chose to play it safe by wearing a plain white one underneath so as not to take attention away from his shirt or his impressive display of 'bling'. Once he had donned his sun visor correctly, he felt more than confident that tonight was the night she would finally see the error of her ways and return to his loving arms.
The dark night virtually pulsed with the bass exuding from the vampire club Fangtasia as Bill pulled into the nearly full parking lot. Looking for the perfect parking spot, one that would not only keep his newly acquired classic 1971 Ford Pinto safe but also show it off to everyone who entered or exited the club, Bill finally settled on parking at a slant between two parking spots. Upon exiting the car and gently pushing the door closed, he pulled a pressed linen handkerchief out of his pants pocket to wipe any possible fingerprints off the gleaming candy-apple red paint job. The salesman had assured him that this particular car was what all the youngsters were driving these days, and that it was a guaranteed chick magnet- whatever that meant. Bill was only concerned with one 'chick' anyways, one Sookie Stackhouse, and he needed all the help he could get to pull her away from the evil that resided in the sheriff of Area 5.
"I'm just trying to explain that J.C. is coming back, and unless you accept him into your heart as the one true savior, you'll burn in the pits of hell forever. You wouldn't want that, would you?" the poorly dressed do-gooder was saying.
"The only JC that I pray to is the God of Shoes himself, Jimmy Choo, not some robe wearing self-appointed prophet that claimed to be the child of some unseen deity over 2000 years ago. You can pray for salvation, but I'll stick with my shoes, thank you very much," Pam answered him in bored irritation, only to add, "Besides, say I bought into your deistical drivel for more than three seconds, what's in it for you?"
"I don't understand what you're asking," he replied in confusion.
"What do you get if you were to succeed in making me see the error of my hedonistic ways? If I were to throw myself prostrate before this God of yours and repent of all my sins, what good does it do you? Do you get bonus Heaven privileges, like extra virgins or something?" Pam was finally getting into the conversation as she thought of tasty virgins.
"I don't get anything other than the knowledge that I helped to save one more person from Lucifer's slimy clutches. But I do know that if you don't pray for your own salvation before you die, your soul will never experience the wonders that God has waiting for us in heaven," he continued proselytizing animatedly, not knowing Pam's interest was in a wholly other kind of heaven, one that could only be found between a woman's legs.
"Um, you do realize that you're sitting in a vampire bar, right? Most humans claim that we don't even have souls and that your God has turned his back on us anyways," she blithely informed him.
"Vvvvampires?" he gulped. "I thought it was just a Goth club."
Pam, who had just taken a swig from her warmed bottle of True Blood while conversing with the K-mart designer throwaway, turned just as Bill entered the club and couldn't stop herself from spitting the drink all over the now mistrustful man sitting across the bar from her as she took in the hot mess that Bill presented.
"Holy shit on a stick, what the hell are you wearing?" she blurted in Bill's direction while grabbing a bar rag to wipe down the top of the bar with one hand and surreptitiously trying to turn on her phone's video recorder with the other. From the corner of her eye, she watched the backwoods Baptist slink out of the club, followed by several unseen by him, yet hungry looking vamps.
Bill sidled up to the bar with an exaggerated swagger, affecting an uneven left-legged limp that no self-respecting vamp should ever try, but she was glad he did knowing the number of hits she'd get on YouTube would be that much higher because of it. "I'm just hangin' in the hood, hoping to score me some poontang," he recited the line just as he had faithfully memorized it earlier.
"Hangin' in the hood? Poontang? Jesus Bill, what are you saying? Do you even know what poontang is?" she asked, egging him on now knowing she had viral video gold in her hand, while failing to keep the amusement from her voice, not that she had tried very hard.
"Now Pamela, of course I do," he stated as confidently as he could, seeing as though he honestly had no idea what it meant. He only knew that his new acquaintances had told him what to say to win Sookie's heart. "Why else would I use it?"
"Oh of course Bill, I'm sure that you certainly do. Otherwise you would just look like a jackass, wouldn't you?" she said not expecting a response, and though the sarcasm in her voice was entirely lost on her subject, she couldn't resist baiting him just a bit more by asking, "So, what flavor of 'poontang' are you looking for tonight?"
"There are different flavors?" Bill asked worriedly. His friends hadn't told him anything like this; they had only reassured him that no woman would be able to resist him this way.
Little did he know, that statement was very true in Pam's case, even if for not the same reason as he intended for Sookie. She couldn't have walked away from him in that moment if she had tried.
"Oh yes, there are many flavors Bill; so many, many flavors, and most of them are delicious," she said slyly and moved her phone slightly to get an even better angle on his face while they spoke.
"What, like fruit punch or strawberry?" His innocent question threatened to cause yet another surprised spit-take as Pam struggled to swallow her mouthful of the synthetic supplement without jostling her phone.
"Sure Bill, something like that. Anyways, enough about poontang flavors. Tell me, why are you dressed so abhorrently tonight? Not that I mind the deviation from your usual drab beige boringness, mind you, I'm just a bit curious." She mentally noted to herself that she would need to be sure to keep her phone fully charged from then on in the hopes Bill would go through a Rastafarian phase or perhaps attempt to join the Red Hat Society. Either scenario would make just as much sense as what he was currently trying to pull off.
"After giving the subject careful consideration, I have concluded that Sookie left me because she didn't see me as someone of her own age that she could connect to or find entertaining enough, thereby explaining her attraction to Eric and his misguided shenanigans. Ergo, I decided to change my appearance and attitude, and after studying the local youth and their clothing and mating customs extensively, I decided that this would be the most expedient way to convince Miss Stackhouse that turning to Eric was a mistake," he explained before he sighed in longing. "I would do anything to lay with her again, to taste the sweetness that is her blood, and in order to show her that I am serious, I have chosen this route. I have been assured that this outfit is guaranteed to invoke her lustful feelings for me and once I have her back in my bed, I have only to show her that I can love her as no other can, certainly more than that two-faced lying Viking ever could." He spouted his grandiose thoughts to Pam, forgetting for the moment that she was said two-faced Viking's progeny.
"I see," Pam said thoughtfully. Temporarily forgetting about her Supe Dupe video, she acrimoniously asked on behalf of her little telepathic friend, "So, you don't think the reason she dumped your lily-white ass might have anything to do with the fact that you repeatedly lied to her, used her for your own gain, ignored her when it suited you, and then tried to rape her in the trunk of a car after she had risked life and limb to rescue you from your crazed maker and the flamboyant King of Mississippi?"
"Not at all Pamela, for she knows that I had no choice but to locate her for the Queen and that I resisted her procurement once I had tasted her. As for the supposed rape, she knows that I had no control over that situation, certainly no more than she had. Once she comes to the realization that none of those things were truly my fault, she will remember the strength of the feelings she had for me and we will complete our bond," he shivered in delight as he thought of drawing her Fae blood into his mouth once more.
"God Bill, you're an even bigger loser that I thought you were. There is absolutely no way you'll succeed in winning Sookie from Eric, not even if it was a costume contest, which you're definitely dressed for," she said, this time not even trying to hide her hilarity. She simply couldn't wait for her master and his fairy to arrive; she figured the resulting show would be more than worth seeing, almost as much as the comments her video would surely get.
"Just wait, Pamela, you'll see. There's no way she can resist me now. Eric cannot possibly compete with the new me," he answered a bit less confidently than he had intended. Hopefully his new homeys knew what they were talking about or there would be hell to pay in the form of one angry sheriff.
It was several long hours later that Eric and Sookie finally arrived at Fangtasia, completely unaware of what awaited them. Pam had thought to call and warn Eric, but then decided the surprise would be well worth any possible punishment for not notifying her master of Compton's intentions tonight. The video alone would quickly put her back in his good graces and she had bided her time imagining different hilarious scenarios involving a boastful Bill confronting Eric over his claim to Sookie, all of them ending in a satisfying pile of flaking Bill ash. Pam's glee nearly rolled off her when she finally felt the pull of her master getting ever closer and she had a hard time concealing her smile, and her once again video recording phone, when they walked through the front door.
Eric, sensing Pam's ebullient mood, told Sookie that he was sure she had something up her proverbial sleeve, but as he had no idea what it might be, he didn't know what awaited them as he parked his Corvette in his reserved spot. It didn't escape his notice that someone had parked a hideous bright red hatchback across two spots several places over as if it was a show car and he visibly shook his head in amazement at what some people thought of as acceptable. Anyone in their right mind would know it was nothing but a piece of garbage, the ideal of Ford's craftsmanship for the poor at it's very worst, and that there was a very good reason that they had stopped production of that particular model of mediocrity.
In a controlled fit of anger that someone would dare to pollute his parking lot with something so ugly, he picked the vehicle up and threw it over by the dumpster, thereby relegating it to the trash where it should've been in the first place. Several club-goers poked their heads out of the front door hoping to see an accident when they heard the resulting crash, but noting nothing more than a satisfied vampire busily dusting his hands on his thighs, they returned to their previous proclivities without a second thought. Sookie just shook her head at her bonded's antics as Eric retrieved his sword from his trunk and slung it across his back – with her internally giggling over the thought he might need it later to battle a wayward minivan – before he walked up to her side and placed his hand on her lower back to guide her indoors.
Bill had judiciously spent the time mentally rehearsing the dance moves that he had learned during his exploration online. After an exhaustive search for hip-hop music that he could both understand and that did not offend his strict moral standards, he had settled on a song by an artist calling himself Vanilla Ice. As soon as he noticed Sookie and Eric enter the club he made his way to the DJ stand with a copy of the song; he had wanted to be prepared just in case the DJ did not already have a copy of it. The DJ gave him a funny look as he explained his request, but after Bill slid him a crisp $100 bill, he shrugged his shoulders and told Bill that it was his funeral. Though he didn't understand why the DJ would say such a thing, Bill thanked the man and waited patiently as the DJ announced the change in the line-up.
He watched as the dance area cleared and set himself just to the left of it as he waited for the music to cue him, preening upon noticing the interested stares directed his way and hoping Sookie too would be swayed by his new and improved persona. As the music started, Bill made his way, sometimes haltingly, through The Cabbage Patch, The Running Man, The Charlie Brown, The MC Hammer, The Inchworm, The Moon Walk and The Sprinkler, not to mention other various dance moves that he had seen done on YouTube to this particular song. Knowing how much Sookie enjoyed dancing, he put every ounce of effort he had into this dance, showing her that he could indeed be a cool cat. As the music finally came to an end, Bill struck a daunting pose on the empty dance floor and waited for the applause he was certain would follow his exhilarating performance, but was instead met by more laughter and jeering than by any appreciation.
"Oh my stars Bill, that was too funny," Sookie gushed as he made his way to her side. "You look like a Ricky Lake reject dressed like that, and don't even get me started on those 80's dance moves. Did you lose a bet with Pam?"
"Why would you think that?" he asked her somewhat defensively, the confusion – at both her question and Pam's sudden appearance, whom from the looks of it was searching for a signal on her phone – plainly written across his face and abruptly halting Sookie's laughter.
"I've heard some of the things that Pam has made others do when they have lost a bet with her and I just assumed that was why you were dressed so absurdly and doing such a silly dance," she answered hesitantly. "Why else would you be wearing a costume tonight?"
"It's not a costume, it is the new me. Now, get your things and we'll head home where I will taste you once more before we make love," he stated.
"I'm not going anywhere with you Bill," Sookie told him, all friendly pretenses gone and her body now on the offensive. Eric, noting her stiffened posture from that other side of the bar, was at her side in an instant, despite Pam's close proximity since she was so fixated on her cell phone screen.
"Compton," he said, nodding his head towards the lesser vampire in acknowledgement. Eric wondered briefly if he'd been infected by some new strain of the Sino-virus that perhaps had wreaked havoc with his mental faculties – thus explaining his outlandish outfit and even more ludicrous performance – before turning his concerned face towards Sookie. "Dear one, I would like to know what has caused you distress."
"It's nothing Eric, don't worry about it. Bill didn't know what he was saying, so I told him what he needed to know and now it's all done with, right Bill?"
"Bill?" Eric's raised eyebrow let Bill know that he didn't fully believe what Sookie had said regardless of the insurmountable evidence that Bill had finally gone batshit crazy.
"No, it's not over Eric, I have come for Sookie. I will show her that it is me that she desires, not you. She is under your spell and it is not right for you to hold her to you when it is me that she belongs to. I claimed her first, yet you stole her from me. I have written to the Queen of this and I am awaiting her response, though I have decided to give Sookie the opportunity to return to me without waiting for a royal decree," Bill said, irritating Eric thoroughly with not just his asinine claims or his air of superiority, but with his wannabe gangsta getup and Mr. T starter kit. His outdated sideburns weren't the only thing wrong with him tonight.
"The Queen is well aware of your failure to procure Sookie and has agreed to let me protect her. Sookie is also aware of the situation and has chosen to be with me, and might I add, that it was an informed decision on her part this time. I will not force her to stay with me, though I seriously doubt it would be you that she left me for. Now, run along Compton, before your 'wannabe' ass gets put in its place. I can only handle so much from you before my restraint breaks and I am forced to do something you might regret." Eric had answered through gritted teeth, his anger a palpable thing in the crowded club, but he tried to force it away with a little bit of levity and pointed at Sookie, telling Compton only slightly jokingly, "You can't touch this."
Remembering the words of advice his young tutors had given him about taking control of the situation and putting a female in her place, Bill decided that now would be a good time to put it into play. Sucking in a fortifying breath, he squared his shoulders, planted his feet and nearly shouted his next line.
"Bitch, get over here. I not be leavin' wifout my ho."
Silence reigned over the club as the last word fell from his mouth. Rethinking the intelligence of making such a statement to a vampire who had walked the Earth for well over 1000 years, Bill took a tiny step backwards in retreat.
It wasn't anywhere near far enough.
Eric let loose a roar and had Bill pinned to the far wall before anyone could inhale in shock. His fangs had fully descended and were dripping with saliva as Eric pulled in breath after angry breath. The fury in his eyes was enough to make Bill thankful that his bowels no longer worked or else there would be a tangible tang in the air to attest to his fright in this moment.
"I didn't mean it Eric; they told me to say it. I only want Sookie. Just give her to me and I will take her far from here. You will never see us again, I promise," Bill pleaded uselessly, never once realizing that his words were only making Eric angrier.
"You have spoken your last words. You have offended my bonded, thereby offending me, and that is not acceptable," Eric spit out. "No punishment is painful enough for what you have done to her in the past. She has pleaded for your life and I have granted it, but this is one step too far, even for you. Never again will you insult her or hurt her in any way!"
Before everyone in Fangtasia that night, Eric reached over his shoulder and pulled his sword from its sheath, arcing it gracefully across the short distance to Bill's neck and beheaded him cleanly as the sword all but sang through air on the follow through. There was a collective gasp throughout the room as Bill's decapitated head fell to the ground, the skin of his face and neck already beginning to turn to ash. Eric released his hold on the headless body, watching it crumple to the floor, the ash spreading into an uneven pile as the rapidly decomposing body shifted again and again. Soon all that was left was the sad clothing Bill had worn into the club in an effort to prove to Sookie that he was capable of changing himself to prove his love to her.
Sookie, looking a bit pale after the confrontation and resulting final death of Bill, was understandably shaken, so Eric pulled her into his arms expecting a bit of resistance after he had killed her neighbor and former lover, but found none.
"Eric, is it bad to say thank you in an instance like this? Because I'm not feeling like a very good Christian right now," she said into his chest. "I don't think he would've ever left me alone if you hadn't done this tonight."
"Probably not Lover, probably not," he answered her softly.
"It's too bad really," Pam said cheerfully as she indicated for one of the staff members to begin sweeping up his remains, while her fingers flew across her phone as she uploaded the surefire hit to YouTube. "He was pretty fly for a white guy."
A/N: Big thanks to kjwrit for her mad beta skills and even madder sense of humor! While I can take credit for the idea and the snark, most of the (hopefully) funny dialog, and even Bill's 'Homey-ness', Pam YouTube'ing it was all hers. Don't forget to keep checking the 'I Write the Songs' contest site to read the other awesome stories that have been submitted, or to vote when the time comes!