Life spent hungering for blood and something much darker, danker. Growing up in the city the closest one has to such places are
alleyways breeding
rats the size of
Sherman tanks, and
smelly drunks hovering in their own urine bathed cardboard hovels on the edges of the grates leading to the city's sewer system.
What does little Johnnie, or Janie Ghoul, growing up in the lap of upper Richovia do?
Bloodlust thunders in the their maturing veins as does the need for the
darker, danker elements of life's existence. They COULD slip away from the bright lights, the seductions of well crafted
Corinthian leather to mold their butt cheeks,
imported velvets and silks for the rest of their expensively pampered flesh and do like their less
austere seekers of bloodlust do, but they have images to maintain....images that require a level of delusional propriety.
Bloodlust alone will not sate them...their fangs cannot elongate to puncture the unwary victims they long to claim dominion over, more's the pity.
Solution? Create a need for them to do what their hick brothers do naturally and make it
LIFE SAVING for their dominion. Have the victims be
GRATEFUL to them for their lusting mistreatment. What could be better?
Enter the gastroenterologist armed with the the colonoscopy probe we are told is a vital need for us all because blood and poo together make these doctors
grin with unholy
glee knowing they have found another vein for mining their personal
fonts of perverted gold,
blood,
poo,
and lust.
Has any one done a study to see if the number of these invasive minings goes up during October? That should prove quite enlightening.
From this day forward I dub October Ghoul Gastroenterology Blood and Poo Month.
Trick or Treat?
