Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell was sitting in his office as Executive Vice-President of Aulos Music and Recording stroking his pussy Oysterella when a very pretty brunette in a tight gray skirt walked into his office.
"How may I help you, Miss?" Heathcliff put on his gold wire-rimmed glasses and spoke with a Truman Capote style lisp.
"I'm looking for a recording contract," the Vampiress Morgana sat down in a chair and crossed her legs.
"Aren't we all, dearie?" Heathcliff poured himself a glass of buttermilk, "but sadly we don't get everything we want in life. Look at me. I was deprived of my opportunity to spend 4 years re-decorating the White House not to mention re-painting it in pink."
"But look at it this way, at least you're not the subject of Tea Party protests," Morgana smiled at him.
"If I was President, we'd be holding the tea parties inside the White House that have would have been re-named the Pink House," Heathcliff harrumphed, "I much prefer drinking tea to coffee. Too much caffeine doesn't go well with my rosy red-cheeked complexion."
Morgana handed him a recording contract.
"It says here you're a heavy metal singer," Heathcliff wiped his glasses.
"That's right," Morgana nodded.
"But I don't handle the heavy metal crap in this company," Heathcliff helped himself to a cream cheese and watercress sandwich, "I look after the classical musicians and the operatic singers."
"But heavy metal they say is just baroque without harmony," Morgana uncrossed her legs.
"It's certainly something without harmony, I agree," Heathcliff poured himself a cup of Earl Grey tea.
"But I want you to handle my contract," Morgana smiled.
"Why?" Heathcliif asked.
"Because you're simply the best," Morgana spoke in a sultry voice.
"What you just said reminds me of a Tina Turner song for some reason," Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell sipped his tea.
He flipped through the contract.
"I hope you don't mind but I watch the BBC News at this time," Heathcliff grabbed a remote and turned on the flat screen plasma TV on his wall.
"Tonight on BBC News," the announcer intoned, "Well-known Canadian vampire hunter caught making out with Irish vampiress on the Irish coast..."
Morgana looked at the images on the TV screen and recognized the Irish vampiress Morrigan as the vampiress who had rescued the baby boy from her (Morgana's) attempted child sacrifice to the Celtic god Cernunnos.
Morgana shrieked, "That bitch."
"I agree with you, my dear," Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell nodded, "how dare she gets to be the lucky one to make out with Dracul Van Helsing. i'd like to make out with Dracul Van Helsing myself. But unfortunately, he's not gay."
"Oh, my God," Morgana buried her head in her hands.
"You could always buy yourself an electric vibrator, dearie," Heathcliff started powdering his nose, "it works wonders for me. But a word of advice. Never take it into the bathtub with you. At least not when there's water in it."
To be continued.
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