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The hamster waited for him to go to sleep.

  • The hamster waited for him to go to sleep. He pushed back the bank of cedar chips. There was the hole. He squeezed through it. Climbed up on his bed. Crept onto his chest, neck and
  • bared his deceptively large fangs. For this was no ordinary hamster. He was vampyre and intent on human blood. The beast leaned into his sleeping victim's neck and
  • slowly licked, tasting the salty sweet tang of human flesh. Her jugular was firm, yet yielded to his hamster fangs, sharpened by years of chewing on his cage bars.
  • His discipline melted as quickly as the scabs in his mouth. Hamster venom dissolved all such coagulation, and vampirism only made it tastier. He paused to remove a hair. They were
  • delectable. Scabs such as these were prized by hamster foodies the world over. He licked his lips & sniffed the air for more of that peculiar odor of dried bodily fluids &
  • wood chips. The hamster searched everywhere for scab material to munch on. Already freed from his cage within the medical research facility, he happened upon the leprosy ward
  • and thought he'd found Nirvana. That was, until the hamster discovered the lepers were
  • unwilling to share their quarantined island with rodents. The leper party began a campaign with the slogan, "My Molakai, not yours!" The hamsters fought back but election fraud
  • ran rampant, as if caught in a giant wheel or something. However, there was no way the quarantine would be lifted without Divine intervention. Divine was
  • out of town and his cell wasn't answering. F*** AT&T. But if Divine intervention wasn't possible, there were some tough choices to be made, choices that meant

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