Let me just start by saying that this letter is for your sake, not mine. Yes, I am completely obsessed with you and have wasted upwards of $600 on ineffective pheromone colognes, but this is about what’s best for you.
Listen to me – do not date that teenage vampire. I know he’s anatomically perfect and has that sexy aloof thing going, but he’s a fucking VAMPIRE. You know, traditional enemy of humans? And, yes, I’m aware that vampires are enemies of both humans and werewolves and that the enemy of my enemy is my friend, but in this case, the enemy of my enemy is a fucking VAMPIRE.
Do you really think you could start a family with this guy? Have little half-human, half-vampire kids that cry cute little tears because they don’t have a pet, and then when you buy one, they immediately devour it? I hope your name is on the mortgage application, as most lenders adhere to a pretty strict anti-vampire policy.
Have you heard stories about husbands that just disappear on their wife and kids? Well, this guy can literally do that. One second, you’re arguing the superiority of human composers to vampire composers, you drop a hateful special slur because you‘re losing the argument, and then his clothes drop to the kitchen floor in a puff of smoke. A month later, you’re raking leaves in the yard and see a bat flying towards the pile. You think it’s your husband, so you apologetically run to him, but it’s only a regular bat and it bites you right on your stupid fucking neck.
Let’s talk about the things you can’t do with this guy. You could never go to the state fair and enjoy the fun house mirrors with him. You could never watch a vampire movie without him criticizing every single detail of the film. You could never eat a nice garlic shrimp at Red Lobster. And, I don’t know about you, but that last one would be a deal-breaker for me.
As for the elephant in the room, I‘m just going to go ahead and say it: we both know it’s only a matter of time before this guy fucks Kate Beckinsale. Guaranteed. There’s no way you won’t find out about it, because he’ll be dropping hints all night after he gets home. I mean, this guy was just inside of Kate Beckinsale, there’s no way he’s not talking about it. After an hour of, “Do you remember that girl from Underworld,” and, “Do you remember that girl from Underworld: Evolution,” he’s going to drop the bomb. It won’t take long before you’re in the bathroom with two slit wrists, which is great for him because, hey, free blood.
Welcome to the party, have a biscuit. 