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Don’t Talk To Me Until I’ve Had My Blood

Our reporter is in the home of Bethesda native, Sandra Norman, the creator of the new trend sweeping the nation; recreational vampirism.
Sandra Norman and her cuppa blood
Image by Wren Buehler using Canva
Sandra Norman and her cuppa blood

Our reporter is in the home of Bethesda native, Sandra Norman, the creator of the new trend sweeping the nation: recreational vampirism. Housewives with nothing better to do in their lives are seeking new ways to spice up their days of Etsy-buying, book clubs, and Lululemon cult meetings. By forming an eternal pact with Zagamorias, the Eater of Light and All Goodness in the World, (full name included for legal reasons, or he will drag us down to hell for all eternity and torture us with the whips of Zabigor in flaming pits of tar), participants are giving up their eternal soul in order to live as long as they want. There are only two caveats, other than the soul thing, but that one is kind of a given: insomnia, except for when sleeping in a coffin above soil from their homeland, and a deep craving for blood.

As he walked through the foyer of the living room, we couldn’t help but notice the framed pictures of minion memes, each worse and more politically questionable than the last. Above all of them hung a sign that read, “Live, Laugh, Lacerate.” 

“Well, you know that feeling when you haven’t had your coffee yet, and everything sucks?” said Mrs. Norman. “It’s like that, but always, and instead of coffee, it’s blood, and instead of a headache and grouchiness, it’s a deep, gnawing hunger at the base of your soul, or, well, where your soul used to be.” She began to laugh, emitting black smoke that smelled of sulfur. “Zagamorias, the Eater of Light and All Goodness in the World is actually a lovely fellow, once you get to know him. Some people are great at seeing the light in the darkness; Zagamorias, the Eater of Light and All Goodness in the World is wonderful at seeing the bad in any good situation, like how for every polar bear saved from global warming, a baby seal gets eaten by it. There’s a reason he was a Demon of the Year for 3 decades straight.”

When asked where she got her blood from, she said, “Oh! That’s a simple question. My husband works for the CIA, so we always have a fresh supply.” She then led our reporter to her ‘dead room,’ which was like a living room, but filled with multiple vats of fresh blood. “I’m partial to the AB variety,” she commented, “but O is a lovely treat. Ooh! Always nice to find this,” she interrupted, finding a still-beating heart in one of the vats. “It can be made into a simply lovely banana bread, but with, you know, a heart.” 

At the time of publishing, a family of werewolves has moved in next door. When asked for comment, Mrs. Norman responded with “I have nothing against lycanthropy, but I just don’t agree with the lifestyle, or them bringing it up to my kids. Now, if you’ll excuse me, it’s time for my late afternoon mug of blood. Praise Zagamorias! Wait- no-” Before she could finish, she was dragged into the ground by 1000 hands made of fire. The internet response to this new movement has been mostly positive, though claims of “gentrifying satanism” abound.

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