Vampire Python: Part 1

Mike smiled as he opened the door of his flat....

"Come in, Eric. Great to see you!" He said in his usual cheery way.

Eric nodded and walked into the room. He looked around and frowned as he noticed all the curtains were drawn making it hard to see anything. He shook his head. He had never been to Mike's flat before but given his bubbly personality, he half expected to see sunlight pouring into all the rooms...not the dark, cold, room he found himself in... Mike looked around the corner of the door leading to his bedroom and smiled...

"Sit down, make yourself at home." He said. "I'm just gonna have a shower and freshen up before we go to Terry's house tonight."

Eric nodded as he sat down on the plush couch. They had finished a days filming on their python tv series and they were all planning to meet at Terry Jones's house for a script meeting... Eric sighed as he leaned back against the couch. He heard the bathroom door slam and the sound of running water as Mike began his shower. He checked his watch and saw that they still had two hours left. He hoped they would be able to grab a bite to eat before they got to the house. Terry's cooking left something to be desired...

Eric sighed deeply, completely bored...He began to look around the darkened room and his eyes fell on a stack of thin books on an end table beside the couch. He reached over and picked up the book on top and opened it. His eyes widened as he saw the neat handwriting and he realized that he was looking at one of Mike's journals. He knew that Mike had kept journals since he was young but he had never seen him writing in them as he did most of his writing at night before he went to bed.

He closed the book and put it back on the pile...but then, his curiosity got the better of him and he carefully picked up the stack and pulled out the bottom journal. Carrying it in his hand, he walked to a huge drape and pulled it back to reveal a sliding door and a balcony...

"Mike! I'm gonna go out on the balcony while you get ready!" He called out.

"Okay" He heard Mike's voice faintly above the sound of the running water.

Eric went behind the drape and unlocked the sliding door. Sliding it and the screen back, he went out onto the balcony. He closed the door and sat down in a beaten up lawn chair. He hoped he might be able to read some of the journal before the light faded completely. He opened to the first page and leaned back in the chair and began to read...

January 2nd, 1963...

Mike shivered as he pulled on a sweater. It was 9 O'Clock in the morning and he had an early class. He finished dressing, said goodbye to his roommate who grumbled back in his sleep and went downstairs. Walking out the door, his teeth began to chatter as the cold wind whipped into his face. Oxford may have looked like a winter wonderland but it was as cold as Hell. Mike hoped the term would go by quickly. He hated these early morning classes in the dead of winter.

He hurried along clutching his history books to his body. He had World History 201 ....a class he dreaded. Professor MacDonald was an ill tempered man who ruled his class with an iron hand and a temper to match. Mike didn't want to be late for his class especially since he had gotten the notion in his head that Mike was nothing but a bum and would never amount to anything. He was eager to prove him wrong.

As he hurried along, he waved to a fellow history student, Terry Jones. He was heading in the opposite direction on the way to a different history class. He didn't know him that well, although he was in a couple of his classes. Terry didn't seem to socialize much...prefering to spend his time with his medieval history books. Terry waved back to him and hurried on...Mike noticed that he had a bigger load than him and half the books seemed to be about Chaucer and the Crusades. Mike shook his head. He had never met anyone so obsessed with the past. He wondered if all of that knowledge about medieval times and King Arthur would even come in useful for him someday. He seriously doubted it....

Suddenly, Mike yelped as his foot hit a patch of ice. He felt himself fall back as books flew everywhere and he let out an 'oof' as he hit the pavement with a thud. He lay on the ground wondering if he had broken anything. As he tested all his limbs making sure they were alright, he saw a beautiful woman come up and stand over him. She looked down at him with a concerned look on her face...

"Jesus, Are you alright?"she asked.

Mike nodded.

The girl grabbed his arm and helped him to his feet. As Mike brushed snow off of his clothes, the girl began to retrieve his books....

"No, no...You don't have to do that!" Mike said as he noticed what she was doing.

"It's okay." The girl said as she laughed. "I'm capable of retrieving a few books...okay?"

Mike held up his hands... "No! I didn't mean it like that. I just meant you didn't have to do it. It's my mess."

The girl smiled at him.

"Well, I believe in being a good Samaritan." she said as she handed Mike his books.

He took them gratefully and thanked her which caused the girl's smile to widen.

"You're very welcome...."

"Michael."

"Michael. That suits you perfectly" she said looking him up and down. "My name's Rebecca."

"That suits you too." Mike said and then blushed as he realized what he had said.

Rebecca laughed as she saw his face turn as red as a beet.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"History 201," Mike said pointing to a large building in front of him.

"Really? So am I. I never noticed you in class before." Rebecca said as they started off.

"Well...I mostly sit in the back to avoid Professor MacDonald." Mike said sheepishly.

Rebecca laughed.

"He is a stupid git, isn't he? It's amazing the kind of people they find to instruct the classes around here." she said giggling.

Mike laughed back as he felt himself relaxing. Normally, he was shy around girls but this girl seemed to be able to put him at his ease. As they got closer to their class, though, Mike began to panic. He knew they were ten minutes late now and he dreaded coming into the classroom and seeing everyone's eyes on him. He knew it was cruel to think of it, but he was glad Rebecca was late too. At least he wouldn't have to take the heat alone. As they stopped in front of the door, Rebecca gave him a little grin which filled him with courage. They opened the door and immediately the room fell into a hushed silence. Mike kept his head down and quickly hurried to the first empty seat he could see...

"Well...Well, Mr. Palin." Professor MacDonald said in a heavy Scottish accent. "I'm so glad you could join the rest of us!" He said sarcastically. "You may have noticed that class started ten minutes ago!"

Mike nodded...

"Yes, sir...sorry sir." He said quietly.

"I do not tolerate tardiness!" MacDonald continued lecturing. "Tardiness is not acceptable in the workplace and therefore it is not acceptable here!"

"Piss off!"

Mike's head flew up as he heard Rebecca, beside him, scream out...

"Mike is late because he slipped on a patch of ice and hurt himself. I don't know about you but I'm sure the 'real world' would be understanding about something like that! And the reason I'M late is because I stopped to help him which is probably more than you would have done..."

Nobody breathed as they all looked at Rebecca and then over to Professor MacDonald who was frozen with shock. They looked back at Rebecca who was continuing to stare at him defiantly...daring him to say something in reply. For the moment, time seemed to stand still as the two of them stared at one another and then finally Professor MacDonald looked away and went to the blackboard grumbling to himself... Rebecca looked over at Mike who was still staring at her with wide eyes, and winked at him. He had a feeling that History 201 was going to be much easier from now on....

Eric grinned as he closed the journal. It was interesting to get a glimpse into his friends past. Mike never liked to discuss his college days with the others and Terry didn't hang around with him much until they both got into theater. He chuckled to himself as he stared at the navy blue book. Mike hadn't changed a bit...even after all these years he still had trouble speaking up for himself. He couldn't even begin to count the number of times Jonsey had had to defend his and Mike's sketches to the group because Mike was too reluctant to do it.

He groaned as he got up from the lawn chair. He had been so engrossed in the journal, he didn't notice that he had slid down a little in the seat and now his back ached. As he rubbed his back, he took a look at the journal and decided to borrow it for the night. He was curious to find out what had happened next and the light was fading now. He slid back the door and peeked around the drapes. Mike was nowhere in sight.

He didn't hear the shower, though, so he figured Mike was drying off and getting his clothes on. He quickly hurried towards the door with the journal hoping that Mike didn't see him. He opened the door and walked out. He quietly closed the door and hurried downstairs and out the front to his car. He opened his car door and leaned in putting the journal on the back seat. He grabbed his jacket and threw it over the journal, hiding it. Closing the door, he hurried into the building and back up the stairs. As he opened the door, he saw that Mike was looking behind the drapes. As he shut the door, Mike jumped and turned to look at him...

"Oh! There you are...I thought you were going out on the balcony?" Mike said.

"Um...I did, but I decided to take a quick walk. I hope I didn't keep you waiting?" Eric said hoping he sounded convincing.

"Nah, I just got all my clothes on. You came back just in time." Mike said, grinning.

Eric breathed a sigh of relief as he saw that Mike had bought his story.

He watched as Mike grabbed his jacket from the closet and put it on.

"Well...I guess we better get this over with." Mike said grimly.

Eric nodded, dreading another meeting and another argument....

"What do you mean quit?" Terry Jones asked in his high pitched Welsh voice.

Across the table from him, John Cleese folded his arms across his chest and fixed Terry with a glare.

"You heard me, Jones!" He said. "I'm gonna quit after this season. I'm sick of being a python!"

Mike looked from John over to Terry and back again. He saw the beginnings of another battle royal. Ever since the beginning of the season, John had voiced loudly over and over his intentions of leaving the group and moving on to solo projects.

He looked to his left as John sat at the head of the table, a grin on his face as he watched Terry become angrier and angrier. Mike looked across the table to Eric and rolled his eyes. Eric snorted back. Behind John was Terry Gilliam and Graham Chapman. Gilliam had his hands behind his head and his chair leaning back against the wall. Graham was calmly puffing on his pipe and quietly taking in the argument...

"You cannot leave python, John. We're a group!" Terry Jones screeched.

"The Hell I can't!" John countered back. "I don't recall signing a marriage license when I joined this outfit! I for one feel that the show has run it's course! It's time to do something else!"

Eric looked at Terry. His face had turned crimson with anger and his jugular looked like it was about ready to pop out of his neck. He sighed and looked over at Mike. His eyes narrowed as he noticed Mike staring at Terry's jugular too but with a kind of hungry look. Eric blinked his eyes. He was seeing things....

"I can't believe you, John! We finally find an audience. We finally become successful. We finally get a decent paycheck and you wanna quit!"

John slammed his fist down onto the table causing all the teacups to rattle violently...

"WE ARE REPEATING OURSELVES!!! WE HAVE NOT DONE ONE ORIGINAL THING YET THIS SEASON!ALL WE ARE DOING IS RECYCLING THE CRAPPY SKETCHES WE THREW OUT IN SEASON ONE!! HOW COME I'M THE ONLY ONE WHO SEES IT?" John screamed.

"BECAUSE YOU'RE AN IDIOT JOHN!" Terry squealed. "UNLIKE YOU, THE REST OF US REALIZE JUST WHAT A GOOD THING WE HAVE GOING FOR US! YOU WANT TO RUIN IT FOR EVERYONE NOW JUST BECAUSE YOU THINK ONE OR TWO SKETCHES ARE REPEATS!"

John snorted. "It's more than one or two, Terry." he said suddenly reverting to his calm upper class tone. "The only original things we've done so far this season is the Cheese Shop sketch and Dennis Moore. I can practically tell you which sketches have been combined to make the others."

Terry glared at John..

"Gee John, Isn't it a coincidence that the two 'original' sketches you mentioned just happen to be yours." He said sarcastically.

John shrugged, saying nothing. He picked up one of the scripts from the table and read through it silently. As the others watched, his mouth turned downward in disdain and he looked back up at Terry who was eyeing him suspiciously...

"The Golden Age of Ballooning, Jones? You gotta be kidding me!" John said raising his eyebrows.

"What's wrong with it?" Terry asked in a challenging tone

"What's wrong with it?" John asked in disbelief. "Where the hell does the sketch stop? What is the deal with you and Mike and novel length sketches? We've already had the Cycling Tour this season and that took up the whole damn show!"

"Well at least Mike and I can come up with a sketch that doesn't require making a list from a thesaurus!" Terry shot back. "The cheese shop sketch you so proudly trumpeted as being original is nothing more than that....a list of cheeses! A three year old can come up with that!"

"And you would know what a three year old can do seeing as you are one yourself." John said coolly.

Mike held his breath as he and Eric slowly began to back away from the table. They could see it in Terry's eyes. Any minute now, he would start throwing a chair at John's head. Instead, Terry slammed his open palm down on the table and let out a scream of pain as he forgot a teacup was in front of him.

Everyone forgot the argument as they rushed to help Terry whose hand was bleeding profusely...

Eric helped him to the kitchen sink and began to pour cold water on his hand trying to clean off the blood and the shards of ceramic still in his hand. Gilliam ran to the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet grabbing some iodine, gauze and tape before running back to the kitchen. He pushed his way through John and Graham who were standing in the doorway, both of them too shocked to speak. As Gilliam held Terry's hand under the running water, Eric cleaned his hand and picked out any slivers he could see....

John, suddenly feeling guilty, decided to start cleaning up the mess.

He turned around and stopped. Mike was standing beside the table, staring with wide eyes at the broken teacup and the pool of blood on it. John stared in confusion as he saw Mike lick his lips....

"Palin!" He yelled causing Mike to gasp as he came out of his trance like state. "What the Hell are you doing? Don't just look at it, clean it up!" He said reverting back to authoritarian mode.

As Mike nodded and walked to the closet to get a broom, John shook his head and grumbled to himself....

"I swear to God, Mike, sometimes you act like your heads not screwed on right." He mumbled under his breath.

He grabbed a towel Graham handed him and both of them proceded to mop up the blood as Mike hurried in with a broom and dustpan....

All of this had been silently observed by Eric who was now holding up Terry's hand as Gilliam bandaged it up. He began to wonder what was really going on with his friend. He hoped that the journal might clue him in.....