Detective's poor luck.
| In the smoke filled basement of a distinguished building in the center of the city of Philadelphia,
an unhandsome man in a black tuxedo sat comfortably in the dark. Beside this mysterious figure on a worn and aging card table rested a bottle, a glass and an ashtray. A second hand movie projector also occupied the table top and cast black/white images on the white wall before him. On the wall, three women in sheer gowns that obscured but did not hide their charms, stalked toward a frightened male. The man cowered in an ornate but filthy bedroom as the pale, beautiful young vampires closed about him, intent upon his warm blood and throbbing pulse.
The tuxedo clad man was swept up in the sexual undercurrent of the scene and the thought of drinking human blood. Aroused beyond reason, he fumbled with the fastenings of his trousers. With one hand he pushed away the encumbering trousers and with the other hand he pulled the fuming cigar from his lips. The sticky tobacco clung to an even more sticky lip. The glowing red tip of the cigar fell blithely into the unprotected lap of the well dressed sinner.
"Ah!" The man yelled as the ember nestled itself between his right thigh and right testicle.
"Ahhhhh!" He cried again as he jumped to his feet, spilling the bottle of expensive brandy down his right leg.
"Ahhhhh!" He screamed as the ember ignited the brandy.
"Ahhhhh!" He wailed grabbing at the black cape from the back of the chair. The man made a futile effort to beat out the flames that were burning away his leg hair and trying to consume his boxers in the flames.
"Aha!" The man squealed when he spied the CO2 extingisher on the wall near the door.
"Ah! Shit" He muttered as the pants about his ankles tripped him, knocking over the card table.
"Oh, no!" The burning man cried as the projector crashed to the floor
where the projector clattered, sputtered, spun and clanked.
Coils of film reeled out of control in the darkness but with the extingisher now in hand a shout of triumph rang out. Amid clouds of freezing gas the fire died.
" The children of the night! Children of the night. Children." Bella Lugosi repeated endlessly as he smiled down from the ceiling.
In the emergency room, the smiling young doctor remarked to his unhappy customer that it was unusual to treat burns and frostbite on the same patient let alone the same apendage. The physician innocently inquired about the curcumstances of the man's injuries. The tuxedoed gentleman began to hiss. The sound grew louder and the Doctor took a step back in fear.
The strange man jumped up, reached down and pulled his charred trousers to his hips.
Lunging past the startled Doctor, he grabbed the black cape from the hook on the back of the examining room door. While the man tosssed the cape across his shoulders and fastened it around his neck, his pants dropped to his ankles. With a sudden turn, the mad man stared at the Doctor, his eyes wide and unblinking. The hissing came again and again he raised his trousers. His left hand clutched the edge of his cape while the right held up his trousers. The smell of smoke hung in the air like the hint of Hell's distant fires.
While covering the lower half of his face with the cape, the obviously mad man warned, "Tell no one of my visit."
Rushing from the room, flapping his left elbow up and down, he crossed the waiting room proclaiming himself a bat to all present. Leaving the hospital. he did not fly away but flapped and screeched his way along the sidewalk.
The befuddled Doctor looked to the nurse behind the desk in the waiting room.
"Who was that guy?" he asked.
"Don't know. He gave us false information and I just now found out. We'll never know and just as well."
"Should we call the police?"
"And tell them what?"
The doctor shook his head.
The nurse nodded and said, "Next!"