The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

He looked at the plated meal before him

with a degree of deliberation.

He didn’t mind the colour, or a variety

of tastes, but…

there was that Brussel Sprout, the one

with its cut bottom looking upward,

at him.

“It’s mocking me,” he’d thought, as his

fork was brought into the fray, its tines

sharp enough to pierce many a cooked

vegetable.

And gently he pushed the offending, green

miscreant sprout, to the edge of his plate;

hoping he’s none in his teeth, as after a long

wait, he’d finally got a date.