19 november 2004
So Rick and I were at a local cemetery today staking a vampire to the ground, as you do, and Rick was standing guard while I had to pound the stake in.
"Can't your antimagic thing just, like, kill the vampire?" As opposed to keeping it from waking up while I was working, "Why are we doing all this extra work?" he asked.
"We're doing extra work? You're literally just standing there with a beer."
"But this is important? This is how you kill a vampire, just kinda...nail it into the coffin?"
"Oh, no. This doesn't kill it. It's already dead."
"This is a dead body, Rick. The parrot is no more! He's ceased to be."
"Are you seriously quoting Monty Python to me right now?" I stood up and looked at him.
"Would you have preferred Terry Pratchett?" I asked.
"Kinda, yeah. You got something?" We both just looked at each other for a few seconds before I sighed.
"No, the moment's passed now." I heard him grumble as I knelt down to shove the garlic we'd brought into the vampire's mouth.
The blog of John Matteson.