I've just written vampire voice to the top, so let me just do that. Where? Where? Ah, ah, ah. Oh, and welcome. No, I can't do that. I can't actually do a vampire. Fuck it. I'm just going to do it again anyway. You know what? You know what wonderful music they make? I'm going to do it anyway. Even if I can't do the voice, let's fucking go.

Oh, and welcome to kill James Bond.

Just after Halloween spectacular,

welcome to the dark and spooky land of Transgenvania.

For everyone, is a stone-called body.

I am Count Devcula.

I'm in my laboratory at the top of my castle, trying desperately to unlock the secret of life,

and finally get an appointment as my gentr identity.

Joining me, as always, the bride of Devgula, malice, coldwold, cold, scald, scary,

who is doing classic Bride of Dracula shit,

just of hanging around, wailing, in human noises.

Doing a lot of very diaphanous dresses.

Oh.

Ah.

I'm not...

Who is hiding in the shadows,

skulking around, steaming for my downfall, haunting the

villagers that have assembled at the foot of my castle, generally making an absolute

nuisance of herself, is my loyal assistant, Abbe Gouldaugh-Torn.

Nail beef.

That's way better than what I usually do, which is flow spooky tomb.

I had no confidence in that, and I don't think it came through.

...