Grue

A vampire,

A werewolf,

An undead,
Entered in a tavern.
Blood and brains,
In goblets and plate.
Not a penny between them,
Sharp claws and teeth instead.
Fear thine life,
Growled they aloud.
And roared in anger,
At the shivering inebriates.
Helterskelter they ran,
To save their blood and bone.
The tavern now empty,
The three rejoiced. 
One poured a pitcher,
Another pulled a chair.
Together they sat down,
And sorrowfully drank their share.

4 thoughts on “Grue

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