“You have a drawer full of dull butter knives and an old pair of kitchen shears. You are hardly armed to the teeth.”

“You have a drawer full of dull butter knives and an old pair of kitchen shears. You are hardly armed to the teeth.”

“There are a hundred or more myths about how one might go about killing a vampire. A stake through the heart, sunlight, you’ve heard all the stories. Oh, and garlic. We mustn’t forget garlic. Whoever came up with that silly little rumor never saw me laying the smack down at Mama Leoni’s All-You-Can-Eat Trattoria. I’ve eaten so much garlicky clam sauce in my time that I’ve sweated the stuff for days on end.”

“Can’t you see I’m starving?” asked a very large man in a very loud voice. His words were clipped, desperate and breathless.It was less a question than a demand. Less a shout than a gargle, as though the man spoke through a mouthful of gumballs and old chicken bones. His head was massive; a pregnant watermelon perched neckless atop a VW Bug. His swollen body oozed off the sides of his bed and rippled with aftershocks after each huffed syllable. Two EMT’s in ventilated hazmat suits circumnavigated the obese man like puffy yellow astronauts orbiting a small moon.“Sir, calm down. Please. We’re here to help you.”