Connor Jordan: Hi Professor Dumbledore! Thanks for sending me into a pack of werepire murder machines without any kind of hint or warning! Do you know how hard it is to kill one of those things?

Professor Dumbledore: You introduce them in Act One and then wait for the inevitable, three scenes later?

Connor Jordan: They kidnapped me! And tortured me! And took off all my clothes!

Professor Dumbledore: That’s a shame, really. Hey, speaking of nudity, there’s this witch in Mystic Falls that’s central to all of my plots, schemes, and machinations. If you could avoid putting any bullets or knives in her, that would be great!

Connor Jordan: I’m sorry, all I heard you say was “murder murder murder murder tea murder murder.”

Professor Dumbledore: Sigh. I’ll occupy her myself. With my penis bibliography!

Glinda the Good Witch of the South(ern United States): “Sacred fire and magic tattoos, mystic swords and sigils too, forge now warriors, five in all, to make the vampires shake and -” wait a second, I thought the Slayers were supposed to be, you know, girls.

Brock: But our tresses are both long and luscious!

Grock: Our features soft and feminine!

Drock: Our bodies totally devoid of hair!

Frock: Our hands soft and smooth!

Krock: And our bosoms full and voluptuous!

Glinda the Good Witch of the South(ern United States): Close enough! Slayermake!

The Lady of the Manor: All of the wigs! None of the shirts! It’s a flashback episode!

Connor Jordan: Hi Tyler! I just incapacitated every police officer in Mystic Falls using nothing but some bailing twine and my own sharp wits! And now I’m going to paralyze you, stick a thirty-seven inch needle in your gums, and suck out some of your fang juice!

Tyler Lockwood: …I liked it better when I was just subjected to unrelenting pain and terror on the full moon. At least I could plan for that. Stock up on whiskey or something.

Martha Stewarts Hybrid Home Journal: Ingredients: 1 part wolfsbane, 2 parts fang juice, 1 splash Doppelganger blood, vervain to taste. Simmer over a low heat in a bunsen burner stolen from the local high school, sprinkle with shavings of magic moon rock, let stand for 300 years, serve under a full moon.

Connor Jordan: Wow, the Mystic Falls Inquisitor has full-page articles on all of my exploits! I better cut them out and post them on my wall! That’s never bit anyone in the ass!

Stefan Salvatore: Hi Damon! I have a cool motorcycle and a cool leather jacket and cool hair and a cool pack of cool cigarettes rolled up in the cool sleeve of my cool shirt! Don’t I look cool?!?

Damon Salvatore: Yeah, almost as cool as I looked getting a wrist job from your “girlfriend.”

Stefan Salvatore: …I am so going to think of a comeback to that, and you better answer your phone when I do.

Damon Salvatore: Speaking of wrist jobs, have you seen Matt lately?

Damon Salvatore: Hi Stefan! Nice backpack … did you join the boy scouts again?

Stefan Salvatore: I tried to, but they wouldn’t let me be a scout master anymore! The said something about my relationship with Klaus setting an ungodly example for impressionable young youths! They must have been talking about all the killing we did.

Damon Salvatore: …Yes, clearly, that is what they were talking about. Speaking of “poor examples” and “impressionable young youth,” are you still planning to teach Elena how to subsist on bunnies and kittens?

Stefan Salvatore: I sure am! If there’s anything my frequent episodes of homicidal mania have taught me, it’s that moderation if for people who don’t like going on murderous rampages every couple of decades!

Damon Salvatore: …

Stefan Salvatore: See you Monday!

Let’s see … where were we? Stefan, a hundred and sixty year old vampire, moved back to Mystic Falls in order to hit on and/or murder teenage girl Elena Gilbert. Elena was a doppelganger of Katherine Pierce, a Bulgarian girl who turned herself into a vampire in order to cheat a witch’s curse that made her blood the key to an Original vampire becoming a werewolf.

Stefan’s brother Damon also moved back to town, partially to torment Stefan but also because he TOTALLY SAW ELENA FIRST AND YOU CAN’T DENY IT SO THERE, because apparently relationships are solved by dibs, I called shotgun, and no do-overs. Damon was an asshole (and it was glorious), and then, in an ironic twist, he lost his balls in a futile attempt to claim Elena’s vagina. Team Damon was sad that their favorite character had lost some of his pizzaz, but were excited that Damon might finally get see first-hand whether or not Elena and Katherine are identical twins. But the joke was on them, because TVD’s mission statement is “cock tease Damon.”

Speaking of cock teases, Stefan and Klaus totally toured the South East, leaving a trail of bodies so wide and so long that you just know a team of FBI profilers is trailing them off-screen. Evil!Stefan was the best thing to ever happen to that character, but all of that development was undone by Elena’s enchanted hoo-ha.

Caroline Forbes is Elena’s best frenemy, who got turned into a vampire and instantly became a bajillion times more awesomer. She’s dating Tyler, a werewolf who got turned into a vampire hybrid by Klaus, the most charming creeper on television. Klaus has more daddy issues than a room full of strippers and a penchant for showing his disapproval through random acts of wanton violence, like ripping your heart out through your spleen or kicking a soccer ball literally through your front door. Klaus had a pretty big family, but they killed off all the boring ones. Now it’s just Klaus, Rebekah, and Elijah, who …

Sorry, I hate to wait for the screams to die down. People freak the fuck out when they hear Elijah’s name.

Klaus’ witch mother turned the local history teacher into a self-loathing, homicidal vampire who rammed a piece of magic wood through Klaus’ heart, so Klaus jumped into Tyler’s body. The fact that he has a thing for Tyler’s girlfriend had nothing to do with that choice, no sir.

The person who facilitated that body snatching was Bonnie, a witch so powerful that she”d be in over her head in an empty kiddie pool. But Bonnie is apparently sick of being everybody’s butt monkey, because she’s started mumbling in grim-sounding Latin and getting weird black veins all over her face and hands. This excites me to no end, because I loved Dark Willow.

In the last episode of Season Three, Rebekah threw Elena off a bridge because of reasons. Fortunately Stefan was there, but unfortunately he forgot that he has super speed and super strength, and Elena died. But that’s okay, because she had Damon’s blood in her system, because it turns out head trauma plus bleeding ears equals why is the room spinning also I’m going to die tee hee.

So now Elena’s turning into a vampire, which is apparently terrible because being young and pretty and rich forever is a horrible curse or something. And if any of that made sense to you, well, welcome home. Now, on with the show …

Judge Dredd: Mega City One. A sprawling concrete jungle stretching from Boston to Washington DC. Outside these walls, a nuclear wasteland bearing silent testament to the fact that playing chicken with the Soviets Iran was a bad idea. Inside, an open sewer of human failure. Ninety-nine percent unemployment. Food riots. Rationed health care. Violence, pornography, and drugs are the only refuge for the hope-starved masses. There is only one solution to this nightmare, only one way to lift the people of this city up from their squalor: shoot them in the face with exploding bullets. I am the man carrying those exploding bullets, and this is my story.

Judge Dredd: Control, this is Dredd! I am attempting to perform a routine traffic stop, but the suspects are uncooperative!

Control: Dredd, this is control. Did this traffic stop involve you shouting “I AM THE LAW” and shooting at everyone in the area?

Judge Dredd: Of course, control! I said it was routine!

Control: Dredd, do you require backup? Or perhaps warm milk and a nap?

Judge Dredd: Negative, control. Justice is my milk, and the long years served by jaywalkers and other felons is my nap time. I’ll handle this … my way.

Control: Sigh. All right, Dredd. We’ll dispatch a mop crew to your location.

So excited for Season Four. And for good television in general.

Space Jockey One: Okay, let’s seed some life on this desolate rock. This desolate, lush rock with flowing water and a breathable atmosphere and … what exactly are we doing here again?

Space Jockey Two: Setting up a metaphor, man.

Space Jockey One: Okay, so I drink this chalice full of DNA-scrambling Kool-Aide, and then what happens?

Space Jockey Two: You die in pretty much the most horrific way possible, then your crumbling body falls into the ocean, then the Black Goo of Life transforms your cells into the protoplasm from which all life on Earth arises!

Space Jockey One: Yeah, okay, I’m with you on the “DNA re-sequencing” thing, and the “life on Earth” thing, but I’m still having trouble with the “horrific death” part. Is that really necessary?

Space Jockey Two: Of course it is! The metaphor demands it! You’re giving your life so that others may live! You’re like Space Jesus!

Space Jockey One: Yeah, I see where you’re going with that, it’s just … there’s really no other mention of a Space Jesus in this movie.

Space Jockey Two: Yeah, we had to cut that out. The film was running a little long, and the test screeners complained about being bashed over the head with important religious symbolism.

Space Jockey One: So why do I still have to kill myself?

Space Jockey Two: Metaphor!

First, I’d like to ask you guys a favor. If you’ve read my debut novel, Sire, I’d really appreciate it if you went over to Amazon and gave it a rating. Ratings are one of the things that really help a book sell, and I’d love to know what you all think of it. Thank you.

And if you haven’t read it? It costs less than one of those fancy-dancy farapalates you kids drink these days, and there’s way less nudity in Starbucks. Unless I’m just going to the wrong starbucks.

And with that little bit of self-whoring out of the way:

Aunt Jenna: Hi Elena! Have you ever heard the theory that Near Death Experiences are the brain’s way of coping with the terrible realization of our own mortality?

Mama Gilbert: Hi Elena! It’s your birthday!

Pama Gilbert: And Christmas!

Elena Gilbert: Wow! Getting murdered is way better than getting kidnapped! Tee hee!

Vampilaric Stabman’s ToDo List:

• Grade papers
• Smash students’ civil war dioramas
• Torture Caroline
• Fail Elena Gilbert
• Vampire genocide

The Lady of the Manor: I think I prefer Dr. Jones to Evilaric as a history teacher.

Caroline Forbes (on the phone): Hi Tyler! We should have all of the hot sweaty sex!

Tyler Lockwood (on the phone): Love to babe, but I have to pretend to be Klaus’ bitch for a while longer! Today I’m giving him a mani-pedi!

Rebekah: Hi Caroline! In order not to totally ruin this plot, I’m going to pretend my ears aren’t sensitive enough to hear a mosquito fart in a hurricane!

Caroline Forbes: That’s really nice of you! Almost as nice as coming over to clean up after yet another dance that you didn’t get to attend! Sorry your mother hijacked your body, wore you around like a meat suit, used you to steal the Ultimate Weapon of Vampire Vanquishment, then had Evilaric stab you in the heart with a Magic Dagger of Kinda Dying for a Little While!

Rebekah: Aw, thanks! And I’m sorry my mother turned your history teacher / vampire hunter / contributor to the delinquency of minors into a rage-driven, unkillable stab machine! He seemed really nice!

Caroline Forbes: He was! Totally not the kind of guy who would kidnap you, tie you to a chair, ram pencils through your hands, then gag you with a vervain-soaked rag!

Rebekah: That’s … oddly specific.

Caroline Forbes: You’re right! I sure hope that doesn’t come back to haunt me later!

Vampilaric Stabman: Funny you should say that … necksnap! Carolinedrag! Sunburn!

The Lady of the Manor: YOU KEEP YOUR WHORE HANDS OFF OF CAROLINE!

Rebekah: I’ll just be … over here, then …