Scene: On an old porch swing sits a young man. It’s late, and out of the house another youth comes looking exhausted.
Youth 1: I thought vampires only came out at night?
Youth 2: Okay. One, I’ve told you I’m not a vampire, and two, it’s after sunset already, what are you talking about?
Youth 1: That’s right, it is after sunset, that’s why you’re out now.
Youth 2: No, I’m out now because I work graveyard . . . oh god.
Youth 1: Graveyard, yes. I see it all now.
Youth 2: Stop trying to live in a gothic novel. I’m too tired to play along.
They sit together quietly.
Youth 1: What if . . .
Youth 2: What?
Youth 1: There was something, something I can’t tell you or explain. Maybe, sitting around here praying for work I sort of . . . do you believe in the supernatural?
Youth 2: Like the show?
Youth 1: What show?
Youth 2: You know. I tried to get you to watch it. Lots of vampires, werewolves, all that stuff that you’re always reading about.
Youth 1: I mean someone I only see at night, I think he sees me, looks half dead all the time.
Youth 2: Working graveyard is not supernatural.
Youth 1: Uh-huh. But what if there’s a man who rain or shine walks down this street a quarter . . . a little before midnight. Every night he comes to that gate. He looks like he wants in. He doesn’t say anything, just stares at me.
Youth 2: You really need to find a job.
Youth 1: And what if, even though I’ve read all those books, I’m just as big an idiot as any other protagonist, something of an Epimetheus.
Youth 2: Who?
Youth 1: Brother of Prometheus.
Youth 2: Like the movie?
Youth 1: Oh god. Anyway, I’m going to have to get a little drunk to do what I have to do. I’m too squeamish. What?
Youth 2: You’ve been so good man, don’t start up again.
Youth 1: It’s too late, I’ve already let the devil in. If this ends as badly as I think it will . . . I don’t know what to tell you. Vampires have rules—the best monsters have rules. I wrote down what I know. My journal is in your car.
Youth 2: (Sigh) Just ask for help. When you feel like you need to drink—you shouldn’t be alone.
Youth 1: I’m not. I invited someone into our house.
Youth 2: Do I know them?
Youth 1: It’s, “Do I know him?”
Youth 2: Well, you didn’t tell me if they were a he or a she.
Youth 1: Doesn’t matter, that’s how English works. Them, and they for that matter, are plural and should not be used as singular neuters. Listen, I’ve been an idiot most of my life, but a smart one. And if I’m going to do something dumb, I’ll be dumb the right way. I’m just sorry for the people I’ve hurt.
Youth 2: It’s not your fault.
Youth 1: I can’t go on blaming everybody else. Once the vampire’s in, well you have got to find him and cut off his head.
Youth 2: I thought you staked them in the heart.
Youth 1: Heart, navel, it’s a stopgap. You’re just pinning them to the ground. I suppose I could try interviewing him.
Youth 2: Like in that one movie.
Youth 1: No, like in that one book.
Youth 2: So books are stealing from movies now?
Youth 1: I never finished Anne Rice.
Youth 2: I’m going to need to fix some breakfast. Want any?
Youth 1: I already put some bacon on.
Youth 2: No, when I went through the kitchen you’d left a burner on, but no bacon.
Youth 1: I must have forgot.
Youth 2: How much have you had to drink?
Youth 1: I haven’t, yet.
Youth 2: Please don’t. You’re my friend, but if you’re just going to get drunk you need to start storing your books somewhere else.
The Second Youth reenters the house. Going to the fridge, he searches for bacon, but can’t find any.
Youth 1: Maybe the Devil doesn’t like bacon.
Tale Told 