Diabetic Dracula – Was it a Gerbil or a Hamster? #DiabeticDracula

*** Author’s note: if you have not witnessed the birth of the new legend, then I highly suggest that you read the woeful first tale of Diabetic Dracula!  If you elect to skip the origin story, well then the count respectfully invites you to “vuck off!” Choose wisely reader. ***


Diabetic Dracula: Was it a Gerbil or a Hamster?
By: Packy
It was an obnoxiously warm night in the Casa de Dracula, or at least the Master thought it was. A single bead of sweat slowly swam its way down the rotten vampire lord’s brow.

“Vuck this humidity!” Dracula snarled from the discomfort of his coffin. “It feels like I’m a vucking corncob that got shoved up a giraffe’s ass in Africa and came out as a vucket of popcorn.” He threw the coffin door open and then transformed into a bat and flew to the thermostat. Having assumed the form of a human once more, the fanged menace reviewed the temperature and was frustrated to read that it was a comfortable 72 degrees.

“Vis makes no vucking sense,” Dracula scowled. “It should vee nice and comfy up in vis vitch.”

The blood sucker was beside himself. He was sweltering, and then a wicked bought of lightheadedness hit him like a ton of bricks. Dracula fell to the floor, his vision impaired and his brain stuck in slow motion.

“Vhat is vis shit?” He slurred. Hardly able to move, and certainly unable to stand, he inched his way across the floor on his belly. “Perhaps, I need to feed,” Dracula thought to himself. He had not fed well at all the night before, nor had he eaten any sweets like he normally would have.

As he dragged his tum-tum across the tiles, he saw a varmit in his peripherally blurred vision. With a newfound determination to live, the erstwhile winged one wiggled his flat body towards the tiny beast. As he drew closer, the varmit started to move away from him.

“No! Don’t go,” Dracula implored. “I need to eat choo!”

The varmit cocked its head sideways and eyed the defeated vampire. Silent and still, the little beastie waited to see what the seemingly crippled monster’s next move might be.

“Vat’s good,” Dracula said In a calm yet still slurred voice. “Stay vith me, my child of vhee night. Vhat are choo? A gerbil? Mayhaps a little hamster? Vhere’s Vichard Gere vhen choo need him? I’ll tell choo vhere he is, he’s off some vhere not vinning an Academy Avard, vat’s vhere he is. Vut seriously, Vichard vould know vee difference between a gerbil and hampster. He has an intimate knowledge of vheese vhings.”

The varmit slowly backed away from the crazy old fanged man.

“Don’t do it! I command choo to stay!” But it was too late, the varmit had disappeared from his view. Dracula had started to lose consciousness until out of nowhere a cylindrical object was placed a few inches from his face. He could barely read the label, but perked up when he finally realized that it said: chocolate milk.

A hand lifted the vampire’s head up and another started pouring the chocolaty goodness down the hemoglobin vacuum’s throat. After a minute or two of drinking, the Master’s vision and mental faculties returned. Happy to not be a permanent vegetable on the floor, Dracula scanned the room looking for somebody to thank, however there was nobody to be found.

“BOO!” A loud voice shouted out of nowhere, yet just inches in front of the lord of the vampires. It was the Invisible Man, who was laughing hysterically as Dracula tried to recover from the miniature heart attack that the unseen one had just given him.

“Choo cocksucker!” The feisty fanged one hollered, the chocolate milk still running down his chin. “I could have gone vrain dead choo vuffoon! Vhoo the hell knows vhat could have happened to me vhen? Vat gerbster vhingie could have eaten me!”

“It’s just a Beany Baby,” Mr. I.M. interjected as he produced the tiny stuffed toy. “I was genuinely shocked to see that you had a room with literally thousands of them, as far as the eye can see.”

“Vhat? Vhey put me in my happy place. Nothing vad can happen vhen you snuggle a veanie or 2.”

“Or 200?” The man who was impossible to see asked.

“Choo shut choor shit or I’ll vuck choo up vig time… vitch,” Dracula threatened.

“Relax, don’t do it,” the Invisible Man jokingly sang. “Was just a little joke. You were having a low blood sugar attack. You’re a diabetic, man, that means you’ve got to pay more attention to what you eat from now on. Gotta keep your blood sugar levels regulated. But hey, now that you’ve got a little cocoa tinged cow squirt down your gullet, the real party can start.”

“Real party? Vhat is vis real party choo speak of?”

“I brought some peeps to entertain us. We can dance, and laugh, and screw, and when your tired of that you can eat as many of them as you want. Think of them as a party buffett,” the Invisible Man nonchalantly informed his friend.

“Vomen and men?”


“Good, I’m a bit of an AC/DC vhese days. My door svings voth vays, if choo know vhat I mean,” the lord of the blood suckers coyly said.

“I know!” The Invisible Man shot back. “I can’t believe you’d think that I had forgotten. Shoot man, for saving your life I better get a crack at that sweet ass of yours myself.”

“Ooh, choo vad voy choo. Indeed,” Dracula agreed. “Hmmm, I like vis plan. I like it very much!”

“I knew you would, baby.”

“Did you pick up more Splenda?” The ancient bat inquired.

“But of course,” The Invisible Man answered. “That’s the whole reason I came over tonight. You texted me to bring the fake sugar by on my way home. The party was just a bonus idea.”

“Vell, let me put on my party clothes, and vhen let’s voogie!” The Master jumped into the air and clicked his feet. Singing, “I love the night life, I got to voogie,”  and with that, Dracula disappeared into his closet to get prepared for the carnival of souls waiting for him upstairs.

The 2 monsters eventually went upstairs to the party. They danced, drank, ate Splenda sweetened snacks, and eventually screwed the party goers orgy style. A mixture of 11 men and women went in the party, a variety of 4 men and women went out, the vampire took the rest with a sprinkle of Splenda. The Invisible Man got his chance at iced cold pale archfiend love, and both enjoyed it thoroughly. Such were the regular course of events on any given night at the home of Diabetic Dracula!

*** Also, sorry for opening old wounds Richard Gere. Feel free to slap me if we ever met in real life. ***

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