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The Boards, Saturday

When had Drac ever been such a bad manager? He was just extremely glad that Mavis was not here to see how bad he had let things become.

The company that he had RENTED the zombie actors from had determined that they could not accept the return of some of the RENTED zombies because they had been opened. Drac had no idea how he had been expected to prevent the zombies from opening each other during a play about MURDERS (especially since they were very stupid zombies) but he was now the proud owner of several very stupid zombies.

"..."

Sorry. Very stupid actooor zombies.

It had taken him a while to convince them, but Drac now had the zombies dressed appropriately and working around the theatre as staff.

"..."

Sorry. Acting around the theatre as staff.

Drac hadn't exactly lied to them. After all, one never knew! Perhaps someday he actually would put on a play about the workings of a grand theatre in a small town and need actors who really understood their parts?

Yeeeeah. Drac was just hoping that they didn't destroy the place before he could figure out how to send them away.

[The boards is open! Honest!]

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Hannibal, even recuperating, wasn't the type to sit around and do nothing for long. And he did need to get light exercise. So, he managed the walk to the Boards, hoping that Dracula might be in.

"Count?"

A bat came flying around a corner rather quickly and then fluttered to a sudden stop at the call... "Doctor? Welcome!"

Hannibal in turn blinked. And wondered, briefly, how he managed to talk while in bat-shape. But he had a feeling that thinking about that too much would only lead to madness.

"Thank you. Have I interrupted something?" he asked.

The same question could be asked of how he could actually be a bat, of course.

Drac's ears drooped as he continued to flutter in place. "Merely attempts to keep the Theatre from being destroyed. You remember the actors from the last play?"

The ones that had set themselves on fire, groaned half their lines, and sent limbs flying into the sets and the audience due to their terrible over-acting?

That was also true, but somehow the talking was more baffling. He should at least sound small and squeaky!

"The zombies?" Hannibal was doing his best not to laugh. Fortunately, his best was very good; he didn't think Dracula would appreciate the humor at the moment, and it would probably hurt his throat. "I do, yes. Have they not gone home?"

Small and squeaky? A Dracula?!

"Apparently a few were unreturnable." Drac sighed a very big sigh for such a small mammal. "And they are as bad at being theatre staff as they are actors. I've had to get the same one down from the stage rafters twice now."

...

"He's supposed to be cleaning the restrooms."

Well, BAT! There wasn't enough room in his body for resonance to match Dracula's voice!

"Oh, dear." Hannibal shook his head. "Perhaps he thought you said rigging?" How well did zombies' ears work, anyway?

What, with the biology, Doctor... oh right.

"That," Drac sighed and took a moment (and a puff of purple magic) to transform back into his human form. "Would imply that he listened at all. Which I highly doubt."

A smile and Drac was beckoning the good Doctor towards the office. "Please. Where are my manners? Would you care for a drink?"

"That would be lovely, thank you." Hannibal smiled back and followed him. "How have you been lately?"

"Nearly as insane as this island," Drac sighed as he made his way to the fridge he kept in his office. "Apparently my skills as a hotelier and my history as a musician do not translate well into managing a theatre."

Be honoured, Doctor. Drac was confessing a shortcoming!

Hannibal was deeply honored.

"I have no experience in such things myself, either, I'm afraid," he confessed. "But I'm certain you will rise to the challenge, Count."

There was a crash suddenly and a raspy growly monotone voice called: "Lo, verily art the front windows no longer besmeared!"

"I hope so." Drac facepalmed as he looked into the fridge. "I... Hmm. I have been too long without human company, apparently." Visible in the fridge were only a few bottles of NearBlood and a Gamma Goblin energy drink. He turned back to his friend with a reluctant smile. "My apologies Doctor. I can send someone to the diner...?"

"No, thank you." Hannibal waved him off. "I am here for the company. And rather frightened of what they might return with," he added drolly. "What is in those?"

Honestly, so was Drac.

"The NearBlood? It's a blood substitute. Not suitable for actual use, you understand, just nutritional value. It flows a little more loose than actual blood. Almost like a thick liquor. The Goblin is Mavis'..." He retrieved the can and read the label. "Apparently it is a drink with high immunoglobulin proteins."

Hannibal shrugged. "I'll try that, if you like. It might be good for my system to have the extra protein."

Drac narrowed his eyes at his friend. "Doctor? Why would you need extra proteins? Especially blood proteins?"

If Hannibal was as observant as he proclaimed, he would notice a small gesture that was Drac attempting to smell the air.

Hannibal grimaced, but he would have been surprised if Dracula hadn't noticed. "I was...injured rather recently," he answered. "I am still recovering, I'm afraid."

"Injured enough that you can benefit from additional proteins?" Drac poured the Goblin into a glass and set it and the remainder of the can in the Doctor's reach, then poured himself a glass of NearBlood and sat.

"I'm not a doctor, but I understand enough human biology to know that is not a minor thing."

Hannibal conceded the point with a nod. "I can explain further if you wish, but I didn't come here to burden you with my problems. Only for company." And because he was rather bored at home.

Drac thought about that for a moment, sipping his drink. "If you are well, I don't need to hear the full story. Unless there a danger to your life remaining?" He eyed the man.

"No present danger," Hannibal promised. "Only recuperation from injuries including some blood loss." Because Hannibal was considering running for "understatement of the year".

He picked up the glass of ... Goblin ... smelled it, then tasted. Then grimaced. "Well, I can't say I would choose it on a regular basis," he allowed with a chuckle, "but it isn't too bad."

"The younger generation," Drac waved a hand, dismissing the other topic for now. "They do enjoy their gimmicks. Give me a normal full plasma drink and I am content."

He raised his glass. "This, for example, now even comes in multiple flavours, and a light version."

Hannibal eyed it dubiously, "Flavors? Other than blood?" He shook his head. "What is it light in, hemoglobin?"

"Oh no. It's all blood but, for example, there's now 'Cattle' and a 'Vegetarian'." Drac shrugged. "The light version has fewer calories."

Hannibal nodded slowly at the first part of that; he could see there being a difference. But the latter... He just sighed mentally. Honestly, this obsession with calories. Would nobody think of the food??

"Your expression!" Drac chuckled.

Hannibal grimaced. "I can't understand this latest obsession with calories," he confessed. "Is it really such a problem as to warrant an industry to produce light blood?"

Drac's smile didn't disappear. "I don't think it is so much of a problem as it is a fad. Every generation wants nothing more than to be different from the one before it."

"True." Hannibal chuckled. "I imagine you've seen quite a bit of that in your lifetime. Speaking of which, more or less, how is Mavis?"

"She is doing well, thank you!" Drac puffed up like the proud daddy he was. "She has returned home and is acting as temporary general manager."

...

"With help from her Uncle Frank, of course. But the reports I receive are very thorough for someone her age. And she has already handled one minor convention."

"That sounds wonderful." Hannibal smiled at Drac's pride. "She will be quite accomplished by the time you return."

"That is of course what I am hoping for," Drac preened. "After all, the hotel was built for her. And she will soon be a hundred eighteen, after all."

"No matter how long it takes, they grow quickly," Hannibal noted with a smile. "Will you pass it over to her, then?" Maybe actually have some fun?

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The Boards, Saturday

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