Armand and Louis

Armand and Louis: A Gay Vampire Marriage

Armand: “They had forgotten the first lesson, that we are to be powerful, beautiful, and without regret.”
Louis: “And you can teach me this?”
—Interview with a Vampire (1994)

(Hollywood)—Superstar Brad Pitt is rumored to have landed his dream gay love story. The actor is said to have been lined up for a part in “Armand and Louis: A Gay Marriage”—a film about a gay vampire love affair between the sophisticated Parisian vampire Armand and the new bon vivant boy on the block, Louis de Pointe du Lac played by Pitt.

In this new film, Antonio Banderas is replaced by a younger more vivacious Latino actor, Gael García of “The Motorcycle Diaries,” “The Crime of Father Amaro" and “Bad Education” fame.

The famous director, Ed Wood Jr., recently resurrected from the grave as a Hollywood born-again vampire—thought Garcia would add a little life and pizzazz to the screen’s first Vampire domestic partnership melodrama. Like Norma Desmond, Wood was looking for a stylish “comeback” to his somewhat flamboyant career—after being away for such a long time.

An insider said, "Brad knows it would seem shocking to take on another gay role because he's seen as such a hetero heart-throb. But he’s never shied away from taking on controversial films—and he’s often chosen to do smaller, more challenging movies.

After noticing the critical acclaim that “Brokeback Mountain” had won—Pitt wanted a piece of it. But he also knew that the hearts of many gay men always beat somewhat faster when they saw him up on the screen.

Perhaps Pitt is rather like Armand now—needing something to liven up his career somewhat since that gay soiree in “Interview with a Vampire.”

Of course, there’s “Troy” with Garrett Hedlund as Patroclus—with heavy Homeric hints of a tragic romance between the two classic Greek numbers. As well as Brad Pitt having that hot little butt shot and camera work done of him—while screwing one of the women in the movie ''Thelma and Louise.'' Unfortunately the scene was deleted when released on video—a treasured scene lost forever.

A similar scene that probably will end up deleted—is the visit of Armand to the outskirts of New Orleans in “Armand and Louis: A Gay Vampire Marriage.”

There’s no substitute for it—a single rotten, cheap, over-ripe and odoriferous piece of white trash. Armand had found one right away—perfect in its slovenly, male sluttiness, smoldering with malice, greed and contempt for everything.

The young piece of white trash lived in the Paradise Trailer Court—down by the river. It was down a narrow twisted street—the dumpy, rundown trailer with its beat-up old Camero out front. Inside there was this slouching, scowling, dirty young man—guzzling a beer, watching a TV set with cockroaches scuttling across its screen.

Inside the trashy trailer—the filthy stench and sweat was a living breathing thing. It was part of the flesh and blood—that went with the miserable mortal flopped on the couch. The whole place stunk with the irresistible animal romance—of vile, virile vermin waiting to be sucked dry. It almost paralyzed Armand—with a lovely stab of panic between his legs when he stepped inside.

Armand was dressed to kill—he was pretty as a peacock. Sickening sepias and louche lavenders—were the colors of his tuxedo. Threads of pure gold were weaved into his cape—its shiny buttons were polished from the vertebrae bones of pretty badboyz murderers hung violently by the neck.

A kind of haute couture stylishness concealed a terrible underlying violence—the puffed velvet sleeves of his Abercrombie and Fitch flowered shirt seemingly so innocent. His dizzying young male beauty—always startling his victims, mesmerizing them like birds done in by a serpent.

Armand’s lips were hot—but not as hot and trembling as his young white-trash victim. The sullen youth felt the fangs under Armand’s lips—it sent shivers through him. His body tensed and shuddered—as sweetly as a virgin. He didn’t have time to resent the sudden intimacy—or even struggle against Armand’s sudden nearness.

There wasn’t time—the fangs pierced his upper lips and wouldn’t let go. His moustache merged with Armand’s hairless lips—just as his pubes would later on. Armand was a connoisseur—not just a bourgeois blood-sucker. He was gentle upstairs—but got vicious later on below the belt.

“You make me hungry,” Armand whispered in the dirty youth’s ear. He was already down past the neck and straining jugular—past the kid’s hard stomach. Past the pouty bellybutton—heading for his cheesy reward.

Armand wanted it—whatever was entrenched and chained up inside this body. Whatever it was—being held prisoner inside, trapped by ropey veins and blood flowing through the dirty youth’s unlucky anatomy. It was pure white trash succulence—it didn’t come easy. Only a vampire—could trick it out.

Old newspapers were strewn on the floor—cockroaches scuttled across the wall. He didn’t even look at Armand—he turned his face away. His swollen drunk face was black and blue—his bedroom eyes were sunken, glazed and moody.

The human stench from his armpits and crotch—made him a rude rube there in front of the tube. The sound was off—the blue light flickered over his naked body. He stunk—and Armand loved it.

He looked down at Armand—the vampire boy invader. His eyes got cross-eyed—as he lost it. Trashy groans, trashy moans—all the trash came oozing out of him. Armand wanted it all—nobody else did.

“Yes?” Armand said later, picking a pube out from between his teeth. The dead body slumped in the sofa—limp and shriveled up like tube of used toothpaste tossed into the wastebasket.

Louis just shook his head—standing there in the trashy trailer living room, looking down at the cumly carnage of the love-jet feast. The toes were curled up—and the body still convulsing slightly. The young piece of white trash—was drained dry to the last drop.

Louis hunted with his lover Armand sometimes—but rarely got involved with the slutty white trash action. The trailer stunk—he didn’t find it erotically exciting even slightly. Just looking at Armand’s greedy, glutted expression after such a brutal, bloodthirsty sacrilege—was enough to make Louis vomit.

“Ah,” said Armand, “Wasn’t that n-i-c-e?”

“I hate you,” Louis said to Armand. “I want a divorce.”

“Oh, c’mon now, Louis,” Armand said, yawning. “One of these days, you’ll be down in the sewer with me. After all, my dear, even those of us down here in the stinking gutter—are looking up at the stars…”

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