You ever meet someone who says, “I’m vegan”…
But in a way where they need you to know before you even say “Hi”?
Now imagine if a vampire was like that.

I picture this vampire walking into a blood bank like:
“Hi, I’m Count Kale. I don’t… do people.”
Nurse is like, “So you want... plant-based plasma?”
“Yes. Preferably type O–rganic.”

He goes to vampire parties and everyone’s in the corner like:
“Oh great. Here comes the oat milk Dracula.”
Count Kale’s in the kitchen like:
“Do you guys have any cruelty-free hemoglobin?”
Another vampire’s chewing a neck like a Lunchable, and he’s like:
“This is why no one invites you.”

Even the bats hate him.
He flies into the cave like, “Guys! I found a beetroot that bleeds!”
And they’re like:
“We found a neck that screams. Sit down.”

This dude’s out there sipping kombloodcha.
Says things like:
“I don’t bite… unless your aura’s out of alignment.”
You try to kill him with a wooden stake and he goes:
“Actually, that’s almond wood? I can’t die unless it’s bamboo.”

He sleeps upside down in a recycled hammock.
Wears SPF 2000.
Drives a Tesla hearse.
He’s not immortal — he’s just impossible to be around.