VAMPIRE DOG
Part III
"Go ahead then", said Dawn "tell your unscientific story".
"So..." continued Spike "Sven tells me about this dog...Was one of those sleigh dogs. One of those Husky dogs."
"But", started Dawn.
Instantly Joyce raised her finger in front of her daughter's face, commanding, "bt, bt, bt", (mother talk for shut up)
Dawn slumped awkwardly back towards the back of the chair, with her arms folded, and her mouth shut.
Spike continued.
"So Griswold... the dog, wakes up, and it's still night-time, so he doesn't burn up you see. He digs his way up from the shallow grave was dug for him, and commences to look for a snack. So he's walkin about findin nothin, and finally he comes upon this farm. He looks about at the menu, tryin to decide what looks tasty, and what he chooses is this fine fat sow. He hops over for a little nibble, but right in the middle of his meal, the farmer bursts in the barn, and shoots Griswold, Bam! right in the chest. Well this pisses Griswold off..."
"Uh hem" interrupted Joyce, and nodded toward Dawn.
"Oh yeah, sorry about that" said Spike and continued, " so the dog's upset see, and he jumps back to life, jumps on the farmer, and rips his throat out...:
Joyce sighed an exasperated sigh, slumped her head into her hand, but realizing there would be no containing the vampire's enthusiam for his storytelling raised her hand from her head, and gave Spike a "continue with your story" signal.
Quite pleased with the response, Spike continued, "So things are lookin up for old Griswold, he's got hisself a pig n farmer smorgy he has. But just then he looks up n he sees the farmers fat wife. She's terrified, of course, and she turns, n waddles off in what to her most likely seemed to be runnin. Griswold let's her go though, cause, really you can only eat so much your first night out you know? Griswold has hisself a fine meal n falls off to sleep. So the next morning the farmer's wife bundles up the kiddies, and escapes to town with them while Griswold sleeps it off in the barn. She tells her story to the villager's, and they form your basic vampire hunting mob, which I can tell you from experience can be a real pain in the a... uh, behind.
So the mob goes out to the farm, and bursts into the barn where Griswold is havin a satisfyin, after-dinner snooze. They wake him up; stabbin him, an hittin him with sticks n such.
The dog wakes up not knowin what in Hell is goin on, n he runs for the door, runs outside, starts to burn up, and runs right back into the barn where the villagers are waitin for him. Well what a fight there was in that barn. Wish I'd been there to see that, but finally the villagers see it's somethin more than normal dog, or wolf they're dealing with. They run outside to regroup, waiting there, guarding the exits.
Night finally comes, and Griswold escapes, but not without his war wounds you understand. He's a smart one. Griswold is, and he figures out right away, people are good eatin, but it's best to keep movin after you indulge, cause those mobs can ruin the whole dining experience.
So Griz stays on the move, a farmer here, a wary traveler there, but never staying in one place long, always on the move, always alone, which let me tell you can be a lonely life if somethin should happen like you should lose whatcha call your significant other, cause the silly bint went off by herself hallucinatin in the last village, or some such thing. An..."
"Excuse me" interupted Joyce, "At this point our sympathies are supposed to be with the human butchering, vampire dog, is that correct?"
"Well yeah", anwered Spike, "he was just following his nature wasn't he? Call of the wild you know? Doin what he was called upon by nature to do, don't you see?"
"Once more, I am sorry. Please continue."
"So word starts to get out about this Devil dog, that slaughters travelers, and can't be killed. Bounties are posted. Hunting parties are formed. Let me tell you. Nothing can put the old kibosh on a vampire dog 's night-time errands, or vampire's in general for that matter, like a damned, stupid, legend following you about, sayin as to what you are,and what you might be up to.
The legend of the Vampire Dog spreads, and follows poor ol Griswold, pushin him towards the sea. Finally there's nothin else for it. He's got to hide. So he jumps on a cargo freighter in some French seaport somewhere, hides down in the hold and lays low.
Well after a couple days n nights in the hold, ol Griswold's tummy starts to grumblin n growling, and he figures he'll step up onto the poopdeck to check out the soup du jour. He snaps himself up a chubby little yeoman, n heads back down to his stateroom with the yeoman b'tween is teeth.
It was a fine meal, but come the morning the crew can't help noticin young Sparky is not at breakfast. They look for him, find nothing, but decide "Oh well, guess he fell overboard, or some such thing, as is prone to happen to silly little gits such as him."
And that would have been the end of that, cept a couple of nights later Griswold's stomach starts to grumblin again, and the next morning there's two crew members missing."
Dawn knelt forward on her chair. Joyce stood erect on hers, looking over at her daughter, wondering if she should do something to censor this mad story, then looked back at the gleeful vampire telling the tale, and knew in her heart, there was just no way at this point, this guy was going to shut up (or for that matter, that Dawn would let him). Joyce relaxed, and yielded to the experience.
2 B con't
