A Pint of Blood
Curious, Frank answered a newspaper ad: "Beautiful Vampire seeks donors."
A week later, they met in a restaurant.
"You’re cute," she said. "What’s your blood type?"
"My favorite. Mind loosing a pint tonight? Makes me incredibly aroused."
Frank couldn’t wait.
"Dessert?" asked the waiter.
"We’ll pass." Squeezing Frank’s thigh, she whispered, "You’re my dessert."
And he was. But he was also appetizer and main course.
Her ad was a lie. She was a man-eating zombie, not a vampire. Newspapers accept classified ads from vampires, werewolves, ghouls, but not zombies. That’s nasty discrimination. What’s a hungry, man-eating zombie to do?
submitted at 12:48am
28 April 2009