Read Online My Favorite Fangs: The Story of the Von Trapp Family Vampires by Alan Goldsher - Free Book Online Page B

the thing. Is the Captain available?”
    “Maybe.”
    “Is he, er, lucid?”
    “Doubtfully.”
    “May I come in?”
    “Absolutely…”
    “Thank you.”
    “… not.”
    Somewhat of a thin-skinned nancy-boy, Rolfe appeared as if he were about to cry. He reached into his pocket and said, “Can you at least give him the thing?”
    “I’m not touching your thing, Rolfe.”
    Rolfe stomped his foot like a little girl—as thin-skinned nancy-boys are wont to do—and said, “Not my thing.” He showed Alfred a telegram. “ This thing. Tell him it’s about the thing.”
    Alfred took the paper and said, “Very good, young man. Good night.” Then he slammed the door in Rolfe’s face, squashing both his Aryan nose and his tender feelings.
    As any self-respecting nancy-boy would do, Rolfe screamed like a little girl.
    Alfred walked over to the sofa and showed Captain von Trapp the paper. “This came for you, sir.”
    “What is it?”
    “Look for yourself, sir.” He dropped it on the Captain’s lap. As the Captain peered at the communiqué, Alfred caught Maria’s eye, then mimed he was drinking, then squinched up his face in an approximation of drunken buffoonery.
    Maria winked at the butler, then ran her tongue over her lips, then blew him a kiss. Alfred hustled out of the room as if he had seen a ghost.
    Liesl ran after the old man; when she caught up with him, she tapped him rudely on the shoulder and asked, “Alfred, who delivered the telegram?”
    “The blond nancy-boy.”
    “You mean Rolfe?”
    “Do you know any other blond nancy-boys who deliver telegrams, Mistress Liesl?”
    Liesl said, “Do shut up, Alfred,” then stomped back to the living room.
    By the time she returned, the Captain was just finished up reading the note. He called, “Brats, fall in!” After the brood converged in a straight line, the Captain said, “Tomorrow morning, I will be leaving for Vienna. On a, um, business trip.”
    All at once, the children broke into heartfelt applause.
    Gretl said, “How long will you be gone, Father? I ask because at this time of year, the weather in Vienna can change at the drop of a hat. You see, the fluctuating temperature leads to an unstable barometric environment, which makes the atmosphere ripe for a weather event of some sort…”
    Louisa butted in: “Do shut up, Gretl.” She then asked her father, “Be honest with us for a change. These are not business trips, are they? You’re going to see the Baroness.”
    “Okay, fine, yes, Louisa, I’m going to see the Baroness, you’ve found me out, you’re so smart, blah blah blah, whatever.” He mopped his brow, then mumbled, “Brat.”
    “I heard that,” Louisa said.
    Farta asked, “Why doesn’t the Baroness come visit us? It’d be nice to meet the woman who’ll be replacing our dead, dead mother.”
    “She won’t be replacing…”
    Kurt said, “Father won’t bring her here because your ugly face would make her puke all over the ballroom.”
    Maria put a hand to her stomach and said, “Please, can we not talk about puking in the ballroom?”
    Ignoring the Governess, von Trapp said, “Shut it, Kurt. Okay, fine, I’m so confident that Farta’s ugly face will not cause the Baroness gastrointestinal distress that I’ll bring her home tomorrow.” He paused. “And speaking of gastrointestinal distress, I think Uncle Max will be joining us.”
    Friedrich roared, “Scheisse,” then ran into the kitchen, grabbed a plate, and threw it at his father’s head. Kurt followed suit … and then Louisa … and then Farta … and then whichever of those bratty von Trapp kids were left. Shards of plate were everywhere, and all the Captain could do was keep ducking and wait it out.
    In the ensuing commotion, Liesl slipped out the back door and headed to her favorite place in all of the world, the gazebo.
    Those who knew the von Trapp family always wondered why Georg’s children were so ill-behaved. Sure, one could point a finger at the