The old man raised a single eyebrow, before bursting out laughing. "Kid, you were staring as if you'd never even seen a woman before." He continued, chuckling, "Now some of them will tolerate that, to an extent, but sooner or later, someone's going to take it personally. Like I said, learn to be a bit less obvious, or you're going to lose something."
"Pretty much, yeah," the storyteller said cheerfully, "We lured him into the room alright, but he twigged that something was up and went right back out the window again. Fortunately, Kreuger here managed to hold him up until the rest of us could get down."
"There followed an epic battle with many cunning ploys on both sides."
"Throwing birdseed at him wasn't a ploy. It was madness," remarked the glarer.
"Well, it should have worked. Vampires are obsessive compulsive. He should've had to stop what he was doing and pick it all up."
"Remind me again why we ever listen to you?"
Taking this as a rhetorical question, the storyteller continued, "Anyway, we got him in the end. But before Don lopped his head off," he motioned to the glarer, "he said that even though we struck him down, he would return more powerful than ever. And that he would have his revenge upon us in a year's time."
"They all say that, Zinar," Kreuger said, "Besides, we cut his head off. People don't come back from that."
"Well, yes, but still..." Zinar shrugged, expressing his continuing misgivings.