From: "Angela Rynan (Pen)" <Pen@rtd.com>
Date: Thu, 11 Dec 1997 22:54:59 -0700

"Of Brussels Sprouts and Bimbos"
by Angela Rynan (Pen)

There once was a vampire named Nick
Whose head was thick as a brick
To get him to drink
you had to think
of ways to play him a trick.

No artist or writer to sip
would Nick sink his teeth in or nip,
But get him a bimbo
in a blood-drain of limbo
He'd howl as he had in his grip.

His master was at his wit's end
impeccable suits he did rend
His creation's behavior
of refusal to savor
of blood was an omen of trend.

Visions of cow could he see
That his son would eventually feed
In bottles with corks
As lunch for this dork
And a reserve so named Natalie.

Politicians and judges were tried
As food for this Brick gone awry.
But Nick turned his head
At such wealth of a spread
as LaCroix sucked the lawyer bone dry.

Centuries came and were passed,
as Nick evolved more as an ass,
Blood tears did he cry
as he shouted, "What am I?
To have had such an immoral past?"

"You're a VAMPIRE!" his master would scream.
"And a lousy one at that, it would seem.
You have to drink blood
of humans, not cud,
Who cares if your soul is unclean?"

Nick struggled and grew to aspire
No longer to be a vampire.
A coroner did help
this insufferable whelp
and the situation became very dire.

LaCroix thought of Green Eggs and Ham,
And was feeling much as did Sam.
He pondered and schemed
He fumed and he steamed
and finally came up with a plan.

One night as they sat down to share
a meal that LaCroix did prepare,
Nick eyed the wine
with eyes all ashine
resisting the temptation to dare.

LaCroix ignored his son's pout
as he dextrously poured the wine out.
He raised his fine brow
and said, "No, it's not cow,
But try it; it's not brussels sprouts!"

Nick growled and let out a bellow
as his eyes turned a bright flaming yellow,
screaming, "How do I know
this blood did not flow
>From some poor unsuspecting young fellow?"

"My boy, I never would sink
To giving you something to drink
That did not come freely;
you know I'm not greedy.
Of that I would never dare think."

Nick quieted and looked at the cup
that was placed before him to sup,
And grudgingly sipped
and drew into his lips
and instantly felt fully stuffed.

"What is this?" he breathed in his wonder
as his taste buds were rendered asunder.
"I know it is new
and did not come from you,
but it quieted my insatiable hunger."

LaCroix smiled at his son with no malice,
as Nick caressed and sniffed at the chalice.
And ready to boast,
He offered a toast,
Saying, "Eat hearty, my boy! It was Alyce!"

                        --Angela Rynan Durrell
                        (No apologies to Alyce Hunter whatsoever....hee hee!)