Morton Earbrow waited for the sweat on his forehead to dry.1 He was not a nice man. His bulky frame and his poor manners only added to his unpleasant behavior. He had no friends because of his tasteless conduct and his disdain for company of any sort. He was also a vampire. He knew this because he slept most of the day, liked the taste of blood, had ugly fangs for eye teeth and was told by everyone at the office where he worked that he sucked.
He was an envious vampire as well. He envied his co-worker and next door neighbor Alan who was constantly talking about his beautiful companion Jill. “Jill” said Alan “was like a doll, a Barbie of perfection.” She had a tiny waist, pert, erect breasts and long, sensuous legs. Alan made love to Jill every single night. Morton knew this because he watched their love-making from his bedroom window. (To add to his vices, Morton was a peeping Tom.)
Morton couldn’t stand the fact that Jill was so willing, so compliant. She never resisted Alan’s advances, never opposed his moves, never refrained from giving him sex. It irritated Morton because women always refused his advances and fought back (hard) whenever he made them. Women should not resist the advances of a vampire, Morton thought.
But Morton would remedy all that this very evening. Alan was on business travel and the beautiful Jill was alone, his to conquer. He would make love to the gorgeous Jill and satisfy his lust for her. He would sink his fangs into her pale, smooth neck and make her one of his own. Together they would become inseparable and his every desire would be served forever.
Everything was working to perfection. Morton had waited until late in the evening, making sure that there were no lights and no movement from his neighbor’s house. Slowly, he unlatched the gate between their two back yards and silently turned the knob on the back door, which he knew that Alan always left unlocked. He also knew the layout of the house since it was a mirror image of his own.
He moved even more silently into Jill’s bedroom where she lay quietly (and beautifully) sleeping on the top of the bed. Even in sleep she seemed submissive, not a muscle moving in her beautiful body. Morton stealthily snuck up to the bed and, in one quick and dramatic movement, jumped upon Jill and sank his fangs into her luscious neck. As his razor-sharp eye teeth sank viciously into her flesh, he was surprised to find no resistance and no blood, just the steady hiss of air as “Jill” slowly deflated and became an amorphous mass of polyurethane.
1 from Naked Came the Stranger 1973