Charley Brewster's School of Thought
"I'm not a vampire, man. If I was I'd be running away from the sight of my own son, and would perceptibly be much much older than 2,000 years. Besides, I think it's the faith thing that sets them off rather than the..." "Back, you spawn of--oh, she's right."
Her smile then not only took the opportunity to mildly unnerve him, but it also took its sweet time in toying with him, too.
"Your little girlfriend, my sweet daughter's tiny neck...it tastes like bread on the tongue. Sweet unleavened bread. I wonder what yours tastes like, hm? Probably wild rose, or garlic."
She then circled like a ballet dancer around him, I being unable to speak at the moment because she was using her body.
"It's a shame we don't see eye to eye, yes? I would love to have you as a member of the Royal Family--if you weren't still listening to that claptrap." "Poppycock, hogwash--and no. I respect you, but your tactics frankly unsettle me."
"What is it you think I do? Brainwash my followers?"
Silence. Dead silence. You could hear a door slam or a moo.
"Omigod, you do, don't you? I sense it in those beady little..."
His eyes sharply glared into hers, like a cop staring down a criminal. "My eyes are none of your business."
"Leave my house. Do not fill my baby's head with such sin."