Late at night, when darkness creeps into an office and gives everything a quietude that sound alone cannot explain, an editor patiently reads through the dross to find the gems his career is edited to.
"Good evening, Evil. I can call you Evil, can't I?"
"What th' ... who the devil are you and how did you get in here?"
"Nevermind the who or how, when the what is so fascinating, Evil. I sent you an idea for a book, a truly unique plot, and you saw fit to reject it and then took on a book with a suspiciously similar plot..."
"Plots are a dime a dozen, there's really only a few of them, it's how you dress it up that's important."
"You stole my plot, now you must pay."
With that he took out a razor and grabbed the Editor's hair.
"Bit of a quick shave, Gov'nor?"
"That's Sweeney Todd you ..."
But Evil Editor didn't finish his sentence. There was no defence against the expert stroke, the gush of blood, or the plop of some tattered papers on his desk.
The anonymous killer stood admiring his work, and, looking for a little curtain closing flair, licked his enemy's blood off the razor. "Ow! Sssithh! Thab thuckin hurb."
At once, Evil Editor's body convulsed. Thick wiry hair sprouted from his face, neck, and arms; a pair of needle sharp fangs appeared from behind his upper lip; and the small office was suddenly filled with a horrible stench. EE opened his eyes and stood, his arms stretched out in front of him.
"What?" said Evil Editor shrugging.
"A werezompire." Anonymous backed against the office door as EE lurched forward. "What, you think a mere mortal could put up with all the crap I get from bozos like you?"
"Sure, now you get the dialogue right." Anonymous reached for the door knob behind him, but it came off in his hand. "See? That's why you never commit gratuitous violence based on the plot of a musical. It's the wrong genre. Now, c'mere. Let me see your neck."
Opening: D Jason Cooper.....Continuation: blogless_troll