So You Want Me To

You've Reached Fantasia, Where The Undead Live Again Every Night," "for Bar Hours, Press One. To Make A Party Reservation, Press Two. To Talk To Alive Person Or A Dead Vampire, Press Three. Or, If You Were Intending To Leave A Humorous Prank Message On Our Answering Machine, Know This: We Will Find You.

There’s No Way You Can Kill Someone And Get To The Other Side Of The Experience Unchanged.

Okay," I Said. "i'd Hoped To Avoid This, But... Bill, I Rescind Your Invitation Into My House." Bill Began Walking Backward To The Door, A Helpless Look On His Face, And My Brush Still In His Hand. Eric Grinned At Him Triumphantly. "eric," I Said, And His Smile Faded. "i Rescind Your Invitation Into My House." And Backward He Went, Out My Door And Off My Porch. The Door Slammed Shut Behind (or Maybe In Front Of?) Them.

If This Were The Fifties, She’d Be Checking Sam’s Collars For Lipstick Stains. (did People Do That Anymore? Why Did Women Kiss Collars, Anyway? Besides, Sam Almost Always Wore T-shirts.)

Wow," I Said, Since It Was All I Could Think Of To Say. "wow. That's Some Outfit." When You've Got A Big Guy Wearing Lycra It Doesn't Leave A Whole Lot To The Imagination. I Resisted The Temptation To Ask Eric To Turn Around. "i Don't Believe I Could Be Convincing As A Queen," Eric Said, "but I Decided This Sent Such A Mixed Signal, Almost Anything Was Possible." He Fluttered His Eyelashes At Me. Eric Was Definitely Enjoying This. "oh, Yes," I Said, Trying To Find Somewhere Else To Look. (living Dead In Dallas)