Batshit:

Chapter 26: Sssssss-slaughter is the Best Medicine: Aftermath 

It was a miracle that only a handful of people perished in the Black Friday battle for Poenari Castle. Two of the Meine Runt-Pferde mercenaries, Golden Dusche (Golden Shower) and Frechen Säugen (Perky Suckle), were trampled during the initial assault as they stood by the heavy wooden doorway and were relieved of their trendy clothing. There was no stopping the ravenous hoard of Black Friday Shoppers, until every stitch on every mercenary was gone.

After the sale, Elizabeth picked through the leftovers in the castle with her talons and then placed a comforting wing around Jonathan who was crying his eyes out. 

“Mina always told people that she was so willowy that she could be blown away with by (sniffle, sniffle)…” he said. “Oh no!”

“By a fart. I know. Rest in pieces, Mina dear,” said Elizabeth as she pulled out her hip flask and saluted the air, “wherever the unholy fute you are.”

“Mina vent out of this vorld a true heroine—a legend,” said Vlad, “She’s probably scattered somevhere over Florida.”

“Her pretty blonde head is probably in Mexico,” said Lupta, noting the prevailing winds.

Question Mark and Candy pulled up on the Segway. “Where’s Mina?”

“Gone,” pined Jonathan. He sighed. “I have this terrible fear that her cute little ass is probably on display in the Brigitte Bardot Museum in France by now. Geez, what happened to your face, Mark?”

“He’s was popping his zits at the escaping mercenaries,” said Candy.

Jonathan sat on a stump. “Oh, ick. An excreter.” Now he was thoroughly ill.

“Poor Mina. I won’t be able to sleep without the sound of Mina’s self-loathing orgasms crying out into the night,” said Elizabeth.

“Mnnnnnnngph?” said Huthbert who shambled out of the woods holding hands with Penelope.

Grrrrrrrowpt (Mina is fertilizer),” moaned Penelope.

Huthbert nodded and hugged her. They were happy — looking forward to growing mmmmm-M-OLD together. 

Penelope moved Huthbert’s dusty hand to her dusty ass.

Touching.

“Look!” said Elizabeth, pointing to a fine mist seeping through the bricks in the wall.

Lupta Axe turned to see. “Smokey Robinson! It’s a miracle!”

“It’s a Stevie Wonder!” said Question Mark.

“It’s Mina!” said Jonathan.

Mina’s form had taken shape among the vapor. “Yesiree, pardners, I done lassoed me a fart-ado (far-tay-doh) and had myself a rodeo!”

“Mina whips butt!” said Candy, snapping her bullwhip.

“Oh, Mina. Your clothes!” said Elizabeth.

Mina’s little Annie Oakley outfit was left in tatter. There wasn’t enough left of it to be called tatters—plural.

“I must look a mess,” said Mina.

“You’re bleeding, darling,” said Jonathan.

Bat heads riveted. Some turned 360 degrees.

“Let me lick your wounds,” Jonny pleaded.

“Down, boy,” she said. “I’m okay, Jonny. Really! Well…maybe not.”

“We were worried that your cute little—” Lupta began to say.

“My cute little what?” asked the willowy one.

“Your handsome young minstrel was heartbroken,” added Elizabeth. “He was…fretting. Did I just say what I thought I said?”

“Good vun.”

“Mina,” explained Jonathan, as he turned back into a laid back hip human. “I had this awful vision that your body was blown up and…your cute buns, yes, those, were blown alllllll the way to the Bardot Museum in Paris where they put them on display, and then—”

“Awww, that’s sweet, Jonny.” She turned her back toward him, displaying  her last tatter. “Were they displayed…like…this?”

“I know where this conversation is going,” said Lupta. “C’mon, everyone, some of us old folks need to get some endless sleep.”