Count Dracula is on the pull in Glasgow. He spends the night drinking
Bloody Mary's in various clubs and biting on unsuspecting women's
necks.
He's heading for home, along Argyle Street sometime before dawn.
Suddenly he's hit on the back of the head. He looks round and sees
nothing. He looks down and sees a small sausage roll. Mm mm, he
thinks, what's
going on here?
A few yards further on and........BANG. Smacked on the back of the
head again! He whirls round as quick as he can - nothing. Again he
looks down and there's a small triangular sandwich lying on the
ground. How odd!
A few more yards further along the street and........crash. Smacked on
the back of the head yet again! He whirls round as quick as he can -
nothing.
He's getting really angry now. Again he looks down and there's a
cocktail sausage lying on the ground.
He stands and peers into the darkness of the night. Nothing. He walks
a Few yards further along again when he gets a tap on the shoulder.
With a swirl of his cape and a cloud of mist he turns as fast as he
can. He feels a sharp pain in his heart. He falls to the ground
clutching his chest, which is punctured by a small cocktail stick
laden with a chunk of cheese and A pickled onion.
On the ground dying, he looks up and sees a young female. With his
dying breath he gasps, "Who the hell are you?"
Wait for it...
Are you ready...?
Brace yourself...
This'll make your day...
"BUFFET, the vampire slayer."
Labels: miscellaneous jokes
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