KILL ONCE, THINK TWICE

Papa looked about the room. It really was quite luxurious. The concierge was a 'familiar' of his. It's amazing what one could buy with a tiny vial of blood. How fortunate that so many scattered 'round the city had the habit. What were they? Could they be called 'reverse vampires? Imagine, humans addicted to occasional sips of life-eater nectar. Yes, it did preserve them a bit. It did get rid of troubling diseases and the like. But best of all, it bewtiched them. He could request anything and they would do it. This one, the concierge, arranged for a suite on a floor that was supposed to be closed for redecoration. And it was. But one or two pied-a-terres were already complete. Papa and his party occupied the best one. Truthfully? It won't be the best for long. The decorators will be called back to erase some unspeakable damage. Vestiges of human tissue (not much, considering the fires) will be disposed of. And some additional vials of genuine, vampire, kick-a-poo joy juice will be distributed. Still, it's worth it just for the quiet seclusion. The girl layed on the bed. She was a big, blowsy thing, like a Jane Mansfield on steroids. And she moaned, as she rolled back and forth and back and forth. I suppose that twenty four ounce kobe beef tenderloin proved too much for her. The wine didn't help much either. And from her never ending repatoire of musical toots, I'm guessing she's also a little lactose intolerant too. She kept belching and saying - Ooh! Excuse me.....Buuurp! Ooh! Pardon me! Where are my manners? Look, if you wanna 'do'me a little, that's  OK...but I'd appreciate a few more minutes to get rid of some of the, some of the gas...Is that all right?.......Papa quietly answered - Take your time......He got up from the fine, chintz, occasional chair and went over to sit on the bed. Then he loosened his tie. Threw it on the floor and helped his over grown baby doll out of her tight, satin sheath. Actually, he had to rip part of it to get it off. But she was already half asleep by then. And even if she wasn't, it would have made no difference. When he got down to the bra (a major example of modern engineering comparable to the Ben Franklin Bridge ,yes, that's named after him too in this town) and the imitation silk panties, Little Bastid Annie sashayed out from the toilet........I wanna do it. I wanna do it - she whined. That's lady stuff. I gotta do it. Get outta here. You can't do that.......Papa said - Go back in there and play with your coloring book, you little brat. What the hell did you make me stop and buy it for!?.......The 'six' year old vampire mumbled something about not having the right kind of crayons. But he wasn't listening. He just scooped her up, dumped her into the sarcophagus length jetted tub (dry, of course) and poured the box of 'wrong' crayons down on her head. Then he stomped out and slamed the door. She stuck her ugly, little tongue out at him, but quickly began to color in the Flintstones as if they were dead, blue-tinged, frigid corpses. Wilma looked particularly beguiling, a regular Lily Munster in bear skin. But Betty (as everyone knows) looked even better. The squishy-hipped, buxom beauty on the bed went 'Phew!' and mumbled something about being cooler. He pulled off his Ralph Lauren Purple Label and everything else in the ensemble. But this stuff didn't get thrown on the floor. No, this stuff was carefully folded and laid over a chair. Then he climbed on top of her and began to do his duty. She sleepilly whispered - What time is it?....My old, bastard husband gonna wanna know where I am......But he paid no attention.......Then she added - Hey! Not so hard! I ain't no pony ride!!!.....A lot of good that did her, 'cause this was the part where Papa started to get rough. This was the part where he got a little hungry. This was the part where the teeth come in....First a little bite. She moaned, but she hardly noticed...Then a few bigger tastes....Yeah, yeah, yeah, you know it. She started to scream. But remember this is a big, originally Cro-Magnon guy we're talking about and a vampire too. So it was nothing for him to stiffle her yells with one of his big hands....Her eyes got a little wild and crazy. And one of them newly purchased and arranged lamps got knocked off and broken. Only he could not help it. Her blood tasted so damn good. And there was so much of it....Then Annie comes bursting out of the toilet yelling - Save me the toes! Save some toes for me! You son-of-a-bitch!.....And she jumps on one of them thrashing legs, struggling to hold on, as she starts gnawin' off a couple of minor digits.....Papa gives her a kick and she goes flying. BAM, right against the wall. But she's laughing like a crazy thing as she plops down on the floor.......I got two! I got two! - she hollers.....But he don't pay her no mind, for the last drops are coming out of this big gusher and that's the best part...... Then he jumps off and manages to pull on his clothes just as she lights up with a cold, blue flame. He throws a coat on Annie, wipes the blood off her chin, picks her up and barrels through the door.... No one in the lobby even noticed. What were they but a well dressed gentleman and his tired, cranky, little girl, rushing into a taxi after a late night out?.......Even the cabbie smiled........But during the ride back to the museum (they got out at the corner of Thirty Fourth Street) his mind wandered off and he began to question his decisions. How nice it would be to have some intelligent vampire companions for a change. Little blood drinkers can be so tiresome....How nice it would be to have Jonathon back.......How nice...How nice...