Imagine being front and center when DJ Fly transforms into Flytrap.
Whatever he was playing was your new favorite song and you told him so. It was hard to tear your gaze away from the glowing X on his chest. But you needed to admire the rest of his physique. Flytrap chuckled.
“Am I thinking aloud?”
The hypnotic music prevented you from feeling flustered.
“There’s nothing wrong with finding his monster form preferable to a human disguise,” Necrolai said. You agreed wholeheartedly, but didn’t bother turning to look at her.
Flytrap’s vines shot out, casually infecting a few other clubbers with vampirism. He noted your disappointment and promised to inject you in a more pleasant way backstage. Instead of becoming a minion that turned to dusk at sunrise, he offered, why not stay human and service him indefinitely? That perked you up.
The Rangers wouldn’t be happy with you. You were not only more concerned with getting laid than fighting the enemy, you wanted the enemy to lay with you. And stuff you full of tentacles.
