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The Vampire's BallNothing makes a Vampire sting quite as badly as newly drawn curtains.
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Estevan moaned and his eyes wrinkled like dirty laundry. Daylight was never really his cup of tea, regardless of whether he had a hangover or not. He rolled clear of the sunbeams and let his hands cradle his temples, the floorboards felt stiff and his neck stiffer. It just felt natural sleeping upside-down on a perch at night; however, padded coffins prevented bruises and sore necks if you fell. His tongue started to search for one unaccounted for fang and his fingers plucked at a burgundy patch on his shirt.
Gus, his butler, ambled around the kitchen, frying this and boiling that. He peered around bedroom door, where the Master Perez sat in a stained, unbuttoned shirt, in the centre of the room.
"Ah, Guff!" He said (with a slight lisp due to the absent fang,) "What actually happened laft night...?"
Estevan and his brother Percival stood on the brim of the pool of dancers. A waltz wafted through the room of snowy s