Count Dracula is on the pull.
He spends the night drinking Bloody Mary's in various clubs and biting on unsuspecting women's necks.
He's heading for home sometime before dawn.
Suddenly he's hit on the back of the head. He looks round and sees nothing.
He looks down and sees a small sausage roll. Mmmm, he thinks. What's going on here?
A few yards further on and........BANG. Smacked on the back of the head again!
He whirls round as quick as he can - nothing.
Again he looks down and there's a small triangular sandwich lying on the ground.
How odd! A few more yards further along the street and.......crash.
Smacked on the back of the head yet again! He whirls round as quick as he can - nothing.
He's getting really angry now. Again he looks down and there's a cocktail sausage lying on the ground.
He stands and peers into the darkness of the night. Nothing.
He walks a few yards further along again when he gets a tap on the shoulder.
With a swirl of his cape and a cloud of mist he turns as fast as he can.
He feels a sharp pain in his heart.
He falls to the ground clutching his chest, which is punctured by a small cocktail stick laden with a chunk of cheese and a pickled onion.
On the ground dying, he looks up and sees a young female.
With his dying breath he gasps, "Who the hell are you?"
Prepare yourself ...
"BUFFET, the vampire slayer."
_________________ Mike.
Live each day as if it's your last ,
cos one day it will be .
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