“Once upon a time…”
“BORring!”
“You asked for a scary story. As I am the storyteller, I can start the story however I wish.”
“I want vampires.”
“What if I don’t want to tell a story about vampires?”
“It doesn’t have to be about vampires. I just want’em in the story. ‘kay?”
“Watch that tone or I’ll clobber you.”
“You’re always threatening to clobber me and you never come through, so it’s kind of a useless… OW!!! You hit me!!!”
“I felt it was time to follow through. Now. Once upon a time…”
“I’ve got a headache now.”
“Well you goaded me into hitting you, so now you have to suffer the consequences. Once…”
“That’s not fair!”
“Shall I clobber you again?!”
“No.”
“Maybe I should eviscerate you…”
“What?”
“Slice you and dice you up into neat little manageable pieces.”
“Oh yeah. Like mum’s gonna be real happy when she sees that.”
“If I do it to the right size, mum can stew you up for the weekend.”
“You’re getting a bit… cannibalistic, aren’t you?”
“Are you saying you’re prejudiced against cannibals?! Hm???”
“I didn’t say that at…. OW!!! Why’d you hit me that time?”
“It’s a stupid argument so I thought I’d nip it in the bud before it diverged into the twilight zone like most of our arguments go.”
” . . . ”
“Good. Once upon a time there was…”
“A vampire?”
“Not yet!”
“So there will be vampires.”
“I don’t know!”
“You ought to. You’re the story… OW!!! OW!!! HEY!!! OW!!! You’re denting my skull!”
“Don’t exaggerate. It’s not dented. Dents go in, you’ve got bumps.”
“Mum’s gonna ground you.”
“Are you sure it’s not grind, instead of ground? I think I’d grind up nicely. Not much gristle.”
“You’re creepy. Just… get on with the story, will you?”
“Fine. Once upon a time there was a boy with bumps on his head that lived in a forest of black beasts.”
“Where are the vampires? I don’t want beasts. I want… OWWWWWWWW!!!!! You rotten…!!!”
“OW!!! You can’t hit me! I’m the storyteller!”
“Well tell the damn story but not with slimy black beasts. Gimme some vamp…. eeek! You bit me!”
“You wanted a vampire.”
“You’re not a vampire!”
“How do you know I’m not? Maybe I was turned last night and you just don’t know it.”
“You were playing outside in the sun today.”
“I’ve got SPF 90 sunscreen.”
“Do not!”
“I do…. …. …. …. See? What’s that say?”
“SPF 90.”
“Hah!”
“Don’t bite me again.”
“I won’t. You don’t taste all that good. I think you need some spices. Maybe cayenne pepper.”
“How come you keep trying to cook me or eat me?”
“I’m hungry.”
“Well, go eat a peanut butter sandwich or something.”
“Peanut butter gums up my fangs.”
“You don’t have fa… when did you get fangs?! Does mum know?”
“She should. I bit her this morning.”
“YOU LIAR!!”
“I’m not lying! I bit mum this morning cuz I was feeling a bit peckish after being turned last night!”
“Mum wouldn’t let you do that!”
“After I explained it all, mum was all fine about it. She did tell me that Aunt Lucy has sweeter blood.”
“Is that why we’re going to Aunt Lucy and Uncle Jonathan’s house today?”
“Probably.”
” . . . ”
“Once upon a time there was a bumpy headed boy whose neck was bleeding. His blood was drawing all the black beasts of the forest to him and he…”
“Was really annoyed. I don’t want a story now.”
“Well! Isn’t that just nice? You wasted all my time when I could have been revising.”
“Revising for what? You don’t have exams for weeks and weeks.”
“I took a summer course.”
“In what?”
“Knife handling. I’m learning how to slice and dice flesh.”
“Whhhyyyy?”
“I already told you; with some cayenne pepper, you’d make for a ncie stew and I’m hungry.”
“MUM!!!”
