A Question of Cleanliness
"You have had a bath recently, haven't you? I hate it when they
don't take baths..." Too surprised to think clearly, you nod
dumbly. "Good," it responds. "As I said, I hate it when
my food is dirty..." It then leans down with its humungous mouth,
and the light is blocked out.
While most vampire bats live on a diet of blood, this one is large
enough to need something more substantial. You experience an
uncomfortable and wet moment or two as the bat slurps you into its
mouth and swallows you.
The bat pins you to the floor, breathing heavily. You wait, expecting
doom at any moment, expecting as well to smell the rancid breath of
the bat as soon as you stop holding your breath. Surprisingly, neither
of your fears are realized. When you stop holding your breath, unable
to hold out any longer, and inhale, you find that the breath that the
bat is exhaling everywhere smells faintly of mouthwash, and not rancid
at all. Also, you find that you have not yet been harmed by the bat.
You look at the bat, more than five times your size, and in surprise
you hear it speak.
