Russell Edgington, burnt by the sun so that he looked like a crispy charcoal Elmo muppet, just lie there in a pool of cement. More cement was being poured into the pool. A foundation was being laid. Although Herveaux Contractors was responsible for the new construction, a non-union worker was currently at the helm.

Eric Northman, former Viking and nightclub owner, and Vampire Sheriff, was operating the cement truck. Actually, Northman had a remote control device he was using to control the machine. Northman stood over Russell, wearing a navy track suit and red Adidas, mocking him during his final moments.

Russell, pained and weakened by his burning, and grieving the love of his life, an Antonio Banderas lookalike, named Talbot, just wanted death.

"Aah! Aah! Aah!" He screamed as the cement continued to pour on top of him.

"Just kill me, Viking! Get your fucking revenge!"

"That was the original plan," Northman drawled. "But then I was thinking, 'how do I know—beyond a shadow of a doubt—that you won't find some sort of peace afterwards'?"

Russell, highly amused, laughed at the Viking's words.

"Heaven," he laughed. "Oh, dear…" He continued to laugh.

"I can't bear the thought of you finding any redemption, whatsoever."

As Russell lie there, suddenly the mendacious Mr. Compton spoke. Bill Compton was in Sheriff Northman's retinue. However, Compton did not seem to be aware of this fact, as he persisted in challenging the Sheriff, from what Russell had observed during his stint spending time with the duo.

"Wrapped in silver," Compton intoned dramatically. Russell rolled his eyes. "Encased in concrete," Compton continued. Russell wondered that the man had somehow conned the fairy into going out on a date with him, much less agreeing to marry him. He was praying for the moment that the cement would fill his ears so that he would no longer be forced to hear Mr. Compton's broody, over-emotive angst-ridden soliloquies. Was he done speaking? Ah, no!

"You won't be goin anywhere at least for a hundred years!" Compton announced triumphantly.

Jackass, Russell thought.

"A hundred years! That's NOTHING to me! That's a nap!" Russell smiled as he said this. A laugh floated on the tip of his lips.

"That's one hundred years with no escape from your grief. No escape from knowing that I took what you love most. You will never get it back."

Oh, the Viking's words actually stung. Russell, a pained glassy-eyed look on his face, thought of his beloved Talbot.

Yes, Talbot made us a home. A home. It was a giant mansion with all the blood and vampire boys you could want!

Suddenly, Russell was drawn from his mournful reminiscing by the continuing one-man angst show performed by the broody Mr. Compton.

"A hundred years during which you will go mad. Madder even than you are now. And you are as mad as a fucking hatter."

Northman turned to Compton.

DEVIATION FROM SCRIPT

"'Mad as a fucking hatter', Bill? Watching Scooby Doo cartoons again?"

"Spare me your sarcasm, Eric. Must you always be so jokey?"

Russell could barely see for the cement covering his eyes at that point, yet he knew the Viking was rolling his eyes. This was not over. Not by a long shot. He would show them. He would kill them.

"A hundred years for me to plan how I'm going TO KILL YOU BOTH!"

"Have fun," the Viking replied. Then he appeared to lose it a bit as he spoke to…his dead maker?"

[Ghost Godric stood there and said some boring things in Swedish about love and forgiveness]

"This is who I am, Godric." Russell watched, riveted. Although encased in cement, he wasn't about to miss an opportunity to enjoy another's unraveling.

That's interesting. Russell thought. I would've sworn Compton was the loser of the duo, but talking to ghosts really brings the Viking down in spades.

"THIS IS WHAT YOU MADE!" The Viking screamed. At nothing. At no one.

Lovely, Russell thought. The Viking is unhinged.

"See? It's not as easy? He's the one that's mad! Speaking to phantoms? "

Russell could see the mendacious Mr. Compton throw an odd look at the Viking.

Northman's right. Always with the eye-fucking, that one, Russell thought.

"All Ah can see," Compton yelled, "is how utterly powerless you are knowing that you are about to be buried alive! And honestly? It's a thing of great beauty!

Russell began to laugh. Pointing at the two, he just continued to laugh. Doubtless, this was not the first time—nor would it be the last time—the mendacious Mr. Compton found himself ridiculed in this manner. The Viking, however, was too absorbed in his own fury to take much note of Russell's laughter.

"You will regret this," Russell promised them as he continued to laugh.

"Maybe," Northman conceded. "But right now it feels fucking good."

With those words, Northman hit a button on the remote control. The cement, which had been pouring lightly, suddenly began to flow like the falls of Niagara.

"Aah! Aah! Aah!" Russell screamed as the cement came cascading down on him. Suddenly he was covered.

[Ghost Godric appears again and gives Eric the 'I'm so disappointed in you' look]

Eric swallows hard.

Compton offered his hand out to Eric. Eric, suspicious, looks at him.

"You are kidding, right Bill?"

"Whatever do you mean, Eric?"

"Do I look like I was born yesterday?"

"Again with the jokes, Eric? Always with the jokes. It is impossible to have a proper discussion with you as you are always so jokey."

"Fine. I apologize profusely for joking about my age. Obviously, I'm a vampire. I'm very old. When I was 'born' is not really relevant. Do you feel better, now?"

"Yes. Thank you," Bill paused. "Are you going to shake mah hand or not?"

Eric gave Bill a WTF look.

"Bill, we are vampires. We do not shake hands. Frankly I can't stand you. I have reason to believe the feeling is mutual. I would have been very pleased had Lorena finished you in Mississippi, but you seem to be the idiot savant of vampires. You even have Pam conned into thinking herself to be younger than you. I am not sure how you do it. But," Eric paused, "then again, I don't really care."

Eric just looked at Bill. Bill was staring at him, his mouth slightly open.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"Are you going to shake mah hand?"

Eric knew something was up. Honestly, he was about ready to call it a night. He'd not had proper rest the day before. He'd been burned by the sun and silver. Dealing with the vampire that had slaughtered his family 1,000 years earlier was a very emotionally draining experience and he was still trying to figure out how to get Sookie away from Bill.

Although he had an idea that simply telling her the truth would likely be the place to start.

"Fine, Bill. I'll shake your hand."

Eric put his hand out to Bill's and, seeing Bill's other hand coming at him with a pair of silver handcuffs, he quickly pulled his hand away and flew up into the air. Floating several yards above Bill, Eric looked down on Bill.

"Nice try, Bill," Eric nodded. "I am much older than you. Much stronger than you. And I can fly. I am also, it would seem, much smarter than you. Aside from just signing your own death warrant, just what do you believe you have accomplished by that maneuver?"

"Sookeh is mine."

"Bill, her name is pronounced 'Sookie.' I thought I explained that to you already."

"Ah will kill you Northman. Ah will."

"Bill," Eric looked like he was on the verge of yawning. "Listen to yourself. Can you kill me now?" Bill just looked up at Eric, his face contorted in anger. "No, of course not. Because I can fly and you cannot. I can always fly away from you."

Eric flew up another yard to demonstrate his point. He flew several yards north, then west, then he made his way back to his original spot.

"Can you kill me now? No."

Bill just looked up at Eric, an outraged look on his face.

"Why do you have to be so mean all the time?"

"Really? Me? You were the one about to put silver cuffs on me. I'd bet the Stackhouse farm," Bill glared at Eric, "that you were going to push me into the foundation and cement me over like our friend, Russell. Was that not what you were intending to do?"

Bill did not answer.

"Bill?"

Bill remained silent.

"Billy?"

"Fine. Yes. Ah was going to kill you. Ah do not like how you're always trying to get Sookeh from me. You're better looking. You have better clothes. Your child likes you. Ah can't seem to do anything right."

Bill shook his head, a dejected look on his face. Suddenly blood tears started to cascade down his cheeks.

Eric, watching from above, rolled his eyes.

Why can't he move from my area? I'd love to not have to deal with him.

Crying thick heavy emo crocodile tears Bill got down on his knees.

"Ah have tried all mah life—all 165 years—to have friends and get people to like me, but it never seems to work. You, though, with your blond hair and your sarcastic humor, and your Viking badboy ways and designer clothes, you don't seem to have any problem. Even mah girlfriend seems to like you now. Sookeh hated you before."

Suddenly Bill's tears were coming down silently, as the vamp was wracked by his angst.

Eric grabbed his cell phone.

"Pam, Compton seems to be having a breakdown of sorts. It appears I am going to be a while longer."

Pam speaks on other end

"Yes, he tried to end me. I know, I know."

Pam speaks on other end

"Pam, I don't care what Dear Abby would say. Dealing with vamp depression is not in my Sheriff's handbook."

Pam speaks on other end

"Fine." Eric ended the call. Looking down at Bill, Eric called out to him.

"Bill?" No response. "Bill?" Eric flew himself down towards Bill.

Once Eric was lowered to Bill's level once more, suddenly Bill made a move.

"Ah-hah! Now Ah've got you!" Bill attempted to jump at Eric and push him into the foundation pit.

Eric, being nearly 900 years older than Bill, simply shrugged and Bill just about bounced off him and fell into the foundation pit himself.

"Billy, Billy." Eric shook his head in disappointment. "Why do you persist in these silly games?"

Suddenly the cement truck was pouring voluminous amounts of cement into the foundation pit on top of Bill.

What?

"Oh no!" Bill cried out. "Ah still had the cementer remote control in my hand when Ah fell. Ah must have," Bill was having difficulty speaking as the cement was now nearly covering his face, "Ah must have hit the button for pour when Ah fell!"

Eric looked at Bill. Rather, he looked down at the foundation that now encased the angsty vampire. Thinking, he looked up. He did not want Sookie to think that he had killed Compton. He had enough things interfering with his efforts to court Miss Stackhouse. Looking towards the main building under construction, his eyes finally spied that which he sought.

Security cameras.

He flew over to the cameras. He would grab the film and show the footage to Sookie and attempt to explain to her what had happened. He would also explain the truth about the Queen and about Compton, of course.

Sookie would not be happy. Dealing with an angry and betrayed half-fairy/half-human female was something Eric had little experience with. He had seen firsthand what she could do with her handy "bluelight special". Eric pulled out his phone.

"Pam, I have a question for you. What would your Dear Abby advise in this situation…."

THE END.

A/N: This was done for some True Blood Alternate Ending Contest on some TB website. The contest was to choose a character's final scenes and rewrite it. So I rewrote Russell's final scene so that it was also (YAY!) Bill's final scene. I don't know why, but the funny in me shrivels up like George Costanza's penis after swimming in the tepid waters of Long Island Sound whenever I try to base something solely off True Blood. Anyone remember "Where's Bill?" Same thing happened. Just nowhere. Nothing. Zilch. My grocery list was funnier than that story. This one too!

REVIEWS: Please don't. Unless you have a theory on why True Blood sucks out my mojo. I actually rewatched this episode and this scene in particular several times to write this awful garbage. I hated every minute of it. I think it's hard to be funny when one is feeling that angry and hostile. That's my theory.