There once was a lonely vampire,
Johnny Fang was the poor fellow’s name.
All he wanted was a young lass to love him,
But, being dead, he was nobody’s flame.
He’d wander at night through the graveyard,
By the light of the silvery moon.
Wondering how he could get him a gal,
Who, at the sight of his fangs, wouldn’t swoon.
But Johnny had other desires,
For on blood, he was destined to feast.
So, he headed off to the nurses’ home,
There were women there, at least.
Now, the home lay down a lane called Ings,
A strange name, Johnny did think.
And he thought of winn-ings and end-ings and such,
And lust-ings for women in mink.
With his black cloak thrown all about him,
And wearing his tall black hat.
He thought he looked rather dashing,
Quite handsome, as a matter of fact.
Trying not to trip on the edge of his cloak,
He crept up the old marble stairs.
And into the little room at the end,
The abode of nurse Francine Pierres.
He gazed down with joy at her sleeping face,
Then down at her creamy white neck.
Lifting the cover, he looked further down,
Before giving her lips a quick peck.
Before she could let out a scream or a holler,
Johnny plunged in his fangs to the hilt.
He sucked up the tasty and tangy red blood,
While his hands did wander sans guilt.
Six months to the day, from the coffin he rose,
To a sight that gladdened his eyes.
For there in a shroud as pale as her skin,
Stood Nurse Pierres, as he’d oft fantasized.
“Oh, Johnny, you killed me,” the young nurse did cry,
“But it’s OK, I know you have needs.
And now I too fancy a nice drop of blood,
Let’s stick together and see where it leads.”
Well, Johnny thought all of his Christmases,
Had all come at once, and it showed.
Said Francine, “I’ve a nice coffin for two,
Down at the end of Vampire Road.”
And so, Johnny got his sweet lover,
And Francine, she was over the moon.
But they’ll be needin’ another coffin,
A little vampire is on the way soon.
Featured in the book, Letters from Reuben and Other Stories: 40 Little Tales of Mirth
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