Count Dracula laughed knowingly as he stood with his new young protege at the top of the driveway of 1746 Maple Pie Avenue, peering through the midnight darkness at the windows of the Gripshaw house.
"Tonight we shall drink, and drink well!" the Prince of Darkness cackled in a thick Transylvanian accent (which was by no means easy for him, since he was actually from Jacksonville). "Within this house resides the toothsome high schooler Mary Fay Gripshaw, whom I have long desired to make one of my many brides!"
Dracula's most recent addition to the vampire family, twenty-four year old Chet Cakeway, looked up at the Count in awe. "Sounds good, Master," he said. He had been bitten by the Count the evening before, between the fourth and fifth frames of his shoe store's Friday night bowl-off against those jerks from the South Street 7-11. He was looking forward to the life of a vampire and already found it far more preferable than working for a living. The only disadvantage he could see was that he would have to sleep during all the daylight hours, and being a huge Eagles fan, that could spell trouble on Sunday afternoons.
On the second floor of the Gripshaw abode, a bedroom light went out. Dracula rubbed his hands together. "It is time for the king of vampires to attack," he said lustily. "Let's go. You're wearing tennis shoes, right?"
"Right," said Chet.
"Now, I'm going to change into a bat and fly to her window. You sneak in the back door, go upstairs, and let me in from above. Do you understand Count Dracula's fiendish instructions?"
"I guess," Chet said. "Except a crowbar cost like fifteen bucks at Home Depot and all I had was seven because I thought we were getting paid this week but then I remembered pay week was last week, so I just brought a screwdriver to get in the door."
"Whatever, whatever," said Dracula, and with that, he mutated into an ugly yet eerily graceful bat before Chet's eyes, lighting upwards into the night sky!
Chet went around the back of the house and pried open the back door. He snuck up the steps and put his ear up to the door of one of the two bedrooms on this level. He heard faint sounds of grunting and panting, and he could make out the voices of a man and woman.
"Don't even think about putting it in there, Pete, not there!" the woman was saying, trying to keep her voice down. "Not until you get the Corolla fixed like you said you would!"
"Oh hell," the man replied, groaning. "If I promise to take it in on Wednesday, will you at least let me go halfway?"
Chet crept away from that door and pushed open the entrance to the other bedroom. Within lay barely-legal Mary Fay Gripshaw, co-captain of the Beevit High cheerleading squad and assistant treasurer-elect of the French Club, soundly asleep. Posters of The Backstreet Boys and the cast of
Friends
adorned her walls. When Chet laid eyes upon her, he drew in a surprised breath. She was stunningly beautiful, her blonde hair cascading over her pillow as he had always believed hair could cascade given the right mood lighting. Her translucent nightie outlined her nubile body to stunning effect.
Dracula was tapping on her windowpane. "Open up already," he complained. Chet moved across the room and let him in. There was an awkward moment when Chet shut the window on the Count's cape, causing Dracula to be jerked roughly backward when he tried to move toward the bed.
"Sorry about that," Chet said. "Hey, at least now I know another good thing about becoming a vampire. Just look at that hot boot!"
"Show respect for Dracula's future bride!" Dracula hissed, swirling his cape threateningly over the lower half of his face. He swirled it a bit too far and knocked over a candle shaped like Homer Simpson which sat on Mary Fay's bureau. "Now, you shall watch and learn. You are about to receive an education in the black art of vampirism!"
Dracula and Chet moved silently to Mary Fay's bedside. She shifted in her bed a little, the movement drawing the nightie more tautly over her large beams, upon which her nipples were faintly visible.
"Man oh man," Chet whispered.
"Indeed," Dracula said, and crouched down. "And now...to drink!" With that, he exposed his fangs and allowed them to descend hungrily toward the innocent's neck. Poor Mary Fay, unaware of the terror that hovered above her, could do nothing to resist as the vampire pierced the soft flesh of her throat and drank.
"Ewwwwww," Chet noted.
Dracula drank until he was sated, which took several minutes, during which Mary Fay, from the depths of her unconsciousness, moaned and actually drew Dracula closer. Her nightgown rode most of the way up to her hips, and Chet was afforded quite a view of the smooth skin of the girl's fleshy thighs.
"Damn," he said as Dracula completed his task and rose to his feet again.
"Now she is a vampire!" Dracula whispered. "She will do anything I say, kneel to my every bidding!"
Mary Fay opened her eyes, still sleepy and confused, but instinctively looking into Dracula's own and asking him, "What do you command, Master?"
"My child," Dracula told her, "you will go out into the world night after night and create an army of vampires. You shall begin this very evening. Now arise, and while I and my protege Chet go east to the ocean, you shall go west, toward the Otis Town Fashion Mall, and feast on human blood all the way. Good night!" And with that, Dracula spun around intently and began to step toward the window, accidentally slamming his hand against Mary Fay's armoire, which was about twice as painful as it looked.
