I groaned under my breath. “Yes,” I replied. “The sun is setting.” We continued our walk around the pond that graced his property as the crickets began their nightly vigil and the bullfrogs tuned up their nocturnal chorus.
“The sun is setting,” he repeated.
“You already said that,” I shot back. “Who cares?”
“The sun is setting. The creatures of the night will be upon us soon.”
“Oh, yes,” I answered with heavy sarcasm. “Katydids and bats. We’ll be feeding the mosquitoes soon. If you’re so wired up about it, we can go back to the house.”
He paused for a moment. “The children of the night! What beautiful music they make!”
“You two-bit hack!” I snapped back. “That line is from that old Dracula movie.”
Suddenly, a huge four-legged beast burst out of the darkness and threw me to the ground. The dark form stood over me. Its open jaws dripped drool on my face, and its fetid breath threatened to suffocate me.
My friend laughed fiendishly and ran away, leaving me to my fate.
“Get off of me, Brunhilde!” I yelled at my friend’s overly friendly Saint Bernard.
That was thirty minutes ago. Brunhilde adores me and refuses to let me go.
And my friend?
That penny-a-word scribbler left me to drown in doggy drool.
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