Twas the night before Christmas and throughout the substation, Not a deputy stirred, they were all on vacation. The stockings were hung on the wall with great care, Next to some T-shirts and old underwear. I was working the night shift compiling stats, Answering the phone, and feeding the rat. When all of a sudden there arose such a clatter, I leapt from my desk to see what was the matter! I opened the door with a creak and a crick, And saw a jolly red fat man I knew must be St. Nick. I had seen his picture a time or two, He was wanted: Article 27 - Section 342. I threw open the door and commanded him "Freeze!" "Put your hands on you head and get down on your knees." But he turned and he ran, up the chimney he flew, With me in pursuit, toward Booth St. I knew. When we got to the roof Santa made for his sleigh, Throwing down toys and blocking my way. As I got to the peak, he threw down some crack, I slipped and I fell landing flat on my back. To my front I was faced with a toy M-1 tank, And Pink Power Rangers covering my flank. "On Dasher, on Dancer!", he cried loud and clear. Then I got off three rounds and dropped the lead deer. And I heard Santa say as he sailed into the blue, "Merry Christmas to all! My Lawyers will sue!"
The vainest and most photogenic of all the undead the Vampire is always portrayed as the hunter, but these creatures are victims, victims of fashion. Whether they are tearing open the jugular of their hapless prey, being impaled on a crucifix or wandering around the shadow shrouded corridors of their Gothic mansion, the Vampire has to have a look that's to kill for. And they usually do kill to keep it that way.
Mean and moody the Vampire is a byword for all that looks good in black.
Dislikes : Zombies, especially the east London crowd, Werewolves, it's a long story, and Trolls, oh yeah they really hate Trolls.
Likes : Mirrors, they wouldn't look as good as they do without them, the setting sun and the taste of fresh spilled blood.
Level three warning : The Vampire is fairly easy to spot, with all the leather and PVC they wear they can usually be heard creaking along the dimmest of walkways long before they appear. But it's best never be trapped in a room with a resting one, watching and waiting for the coffin lid to move is like the countdown of a ticking bomb.
For Christmas last year my girlfriend got me a Porsche. She joked that she sold her soul to the devil to make the payments, but unfortunately it wasn't until this year when I decided to buy her a castle in England and actually DID sell my soul that she told me the truth about how she just took on an extra job.
Now I am stuck with a castle in the moors of England and no girlfriend, whom I miss terribly, because I sold my soul and wrote away my firstborn son to pay for it. I would like to show her that I am sorry, but I don't know how to bypass the legalities on my contract with the devil and I'm scared the only way she'll take me back is to null and void the contract, which I'm also afraid to do!
Well, I'm not sure how you fell in to the classic Satan trap. It's been outlined in countless books and magazines and urban legends that it's a terrible idea to pick a pact with dark forces! I'm not sure I can actually give you legal advice about it, as I am not versed in the devil myself, but I can suggest a helpful relationship tips to see if they get the ball rolling.
Tell her you're sorry and that you made a mistake! That's really the only option you have. You DID make a mistake! Tell her you'd do anything to make it up to her, and proceed from that point. If she's willing to listen, you could set down the details of your contract before her and tell her it's not unlike a divorce proceeding. Perhaps she'll have a more level headed suggestion to give as to how to begin getting out of your deal with Lucifer.
Try summoning Satan and asking his opinion as well. If there's anything the Devil likes more than bargaining, I don't know what it is!
Good luck to you and your unique predicament!