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The commissar pointed his stubby finger at the bespectacled, weasly fellow and said, "We expected more from you. We expected ... consistency. Now, I'm afraid, there will be budget cuts. I believe we agreed upon a cool mil in coke, but all you got is this ziploc of talcum powder that smells like deceipt." Now he quivered with fear for it was known the commissioners wrath was deadly. But his grandmother had said something this morning at breakfast ... what was it?
"Take off their heads, sonny!" she would snarl. "Give me something to make blood pie with! Oh, I haven't eaten properly in days."
As a vampire, she had naturally instilled the bloodlust conceptually, if, in fact, not biologically. Yes the commissionaer was only 1/8 vamp and me, with my knockknees and noogie burns, am 3/4 vampire on my father's side. He excused himself to use the restroom, the commissioner sneering at his weakness as he shambled out, pulling his cape high to encircle the fool.
