von Jacques Pinard Brown (Copyright)

I live in Smalltown, USA, out in the Midwest. It is still called Smalltown but has grown into a bustling city since my youth.

That all happened when the yuppies came. Well they called themselves yuppies and came disguised as yuppies, but I knew better. I know what they really are; a brood of bats.

Yes sir, a brood of evil bloodsucking vampire bats. They hide away, a few of the leaders in their mansions, but most of the more common vampire bats simply nest in the thousands of townhouse complexes that have sprung up all over.

Here they breed and produce more bats, that will eventually grow up, marry a little female bat, and move into a little townhouse batnest of their own, to breed, and so on, and so on.

By day they come out of their nests and put on their sunglasses, climb into their little sports sedans and drive off through the heavy traffic to whichever IT firm they work for in the city. At night they return to their nests and transform into the true shape of the vampire bat; the kind where they flutter about on a pair of black wings and go flying in search of a meal.

They swarm in large groups on their helpless prey, which is usually a homeless old lady or stray dog, sinking in their fangs and draining the victim of the last ounce of its blood. Whereafter they return to their townhouse batnests and wash-up and brush their teeth (with herbal toothpaste), before turning in for good early morning sleep. Soon, they are battling through the traffic again, off to work at the IT firm.

But, as I have mentioned, I am one of the lucky few who are wise to their evil plans of world conquest and domination. From here they will spread all over the globe, building townhouses and brooding millions of new vampire bats. They will someday rule mankind, and mankind will be their meal. They will stop at a MacDonald’s and order a big Mac mankind burger with a pint of blood, to go.

But I am safe from them here in my little basement room. I have my crucifix and wooden stakes. Various silver chains adorn my neck, and I have even swallowed a substantial amount of silver, which is said to make ones blood undrinkable to a vampire. Cloves of garlic hang about the room. No vampire bat will suck my blood. Just to make doubly sure I have my fully loaded pump-action shotgun by my side all the time. Let those bloodsucking yuppies come.

And while I wait for the day that the yuppie bats will inevitably come for me, as they come for everyone, time passes. And as time passes, the bats build new townhouse batnests, and continue to breed.

Breeding a myriad of bats.