“He’s a vampire!” Chester snarled. “Today, vegetables. Tomorrow … the world!”
I loved this.
I loved Bunnicula, and I loved the relationship between Harold, the dog, and Chester, the cat, which is obviously based on Watson and Holmes.
Chester is such a cat … and a bit of an asshat.
This cracked me up just as much as made me worried for poor little Bunnicula:
“No dice,” Chester said. “Just read this to me so I’ll be sure I’m doing it right.” And he handed me a book.
That book, again.
“Start at the top of the page,” Chester said as he picked up the steak.
“Why don’t you read, and I’ll hold the steak?”
“Mmphph,” Chester replied. I took it to mean that I was to start reading.
“‘To destroy the vampire and end his reign of terror, it is necessary to pound a sharp stake …’”
Chester interrupted. “A sharp steak?” he asked. “What does that mean?”
“I’ll taste it and tell you if it’s sharp,” I offered.
“Oh, never mind. This will do. It’s sirloin. Keep reading.”
“‘… to pound a sharp stake into the vampire’s heart. This must be done during the daylight hours, when the vampire has no powers.’”
“Okay,” he said, “this is it. I’m sorry I had to go this far, but if they’d listened, this wouldn’t have been necessary.” He dragged the steak across the floor and laid it across the inert bunny. Then with his paws, he began to hit the steak.
“Are you sure this is what they mean, Chester?”
“Am I anywhere near his heart?” he asked.
“It’s hard to tell,” I said. “All I can really see are his nose and his ears. You know, he’s really sort of cute.”
Chester was getting that glint in his eyes again. He was pounding away at the steak, harder and harder.
“Be careful,” I cried, “you’ll hurt him.”
Chester increased his attack.
So, yeah, I’ll take in the vampire bunny any day, but that cat is a psycho …