Mating Calls.
Uncle Deadly eyed the ghoul of his dreams—or nightmares—her barely yellowed eyes twinkling as two misty stars. She crossed her arms, barring him from nearing the ledgelined seat at the foot of the marbled tombstone. "My, you look bootiful tonight." "Is that the only thing you can say for yourself?" she asked. "Um... When the full moonlight hits you just the fright way, well... It makes you look etherially eerie and hauntingly heart-stopping—if I had a heart that is." "About time you noticed" Eleanor said after letting out a little "mmff" and flipping a few curls behind one of her own horns. "If I didn't know better—I'd say she's been taking lessons from the pig—she's a very delightful darkling diva when she gets this way" Uncle Deadly thought to himself, "uh I'm sorry I arrived somewhat late..." "So what's your hexcuse this time?" "Well... Had to make sure your present was perfect." He unpocketed the blackened heartbox, wrapped with a layer of spiderweb lacing soft to the lady dragon's touch. The tip of her claw clinked the clasp open, carefully examining the container and its contents. The box's flap lifted, white skull chocolates lined the plush interior. "Mmm, yes, these'll do for now. But I hexpected..." She fell silent when she looked up and saw her boogedy beau kneeling on the ground before her. "Eleanor Devinshire... Please accept this token of our love for each other" Deadly proclaimed, a booquet of blooming black roses clutched in his fiendish hands.
Eleanor quickly forgot any animocity she might have felt at the thought of being stood up. She opened her arms wide and embraced that theatrical tatterdemalion, showering him with kisses on his snout—returned in kind with as much affection as both could muster at the moment. "Elly..." "Yes Deady?" "Before this night is over" he spookily stammered, garnering courage to go forward with his last surprise, "there's something I'd like to say." ""Well, spit it out. This night's all about us, here together, two as one."
"Well... hope the Count doesn't mind, but..."
Deadly warmed his warbling voice, serenading his spectral cherrie.
Each night when the cemetary is gloomy.
And the werewolves start howling anew.
And the cold mist creeps down from the mountains.
My thoughts turn, my darling, to you.
Uncle Deadly swung his head so he could get a better look at Eleanor, shimmering as she was, bathed in the glimmering moonlight.
You're my Transylvania toot toot tootsie.
My Transylvania toot toot tootsie turtle dove.
My dearest, it's so frightening, the way you strike me like lightning.
Like marbled tombs, midnight, skulls, white ghosts, and love.
Be my Transylvania toot toot tootsie
Be my toot toot truest tootsie of them all
And when the night is through, I'll still be haunting you.
That's my toot toot tootsie, Transylvania Love Call.
At this time, Auntie Eleanor leaned back against the hard rock headrest—unencumbered by the stony slab—no, rather she was comforted instead—as her hand fell ever so deliberately yet lightly upon that of her mate as she took up the second verse wanting to prove she had what it took to ensnare him in that old trap called "love" as well.
Each night when the spiders start spinning.
And the vampires start to frolic and play.
And the fog rolls down over the mausoleum.
My darling, you can always hear me say.
You're my Transylvania toot toot tootsie.
My Transylvania toot toot tootsie turtle dove.
You make me feel so eerie, I want to call you dearie.
You make me think of cobwebs, burning candles, squeaking doors and love.
Be my Transylvania toot toot tootsie.
Be my toot toot truest tootsie of them all.
And when the night is through, I'll still be haunting you.
That's my toot toot tootsie.
I said my tootsie.
Transylvania Love Call.
They finished the song at the same time, lingering on the last few nocturnal notes. These ghouls were now sharing a deep embrace at their sacred spot, the last place you'd think of as a romantic rendezvous.
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