It was a warm summer morning in California when sixteen-year-old Dennis slowly and disgruntled peeled out of his bedspread.
After he silenced the mercilessy beeping alarm clock with a powerful blow, he got up grumbling and dragged himself into the bathroom.
„I hate Mondays", he grunted as he looked at himself with tired eyes in the mirror.
His mood also didn't get any better when the door was pushed open with a loud bang and his mother appeared with a broad smile on her face in the door frame.
„Good morning...!", she began, but fell silent when Dennis gave her an annoyed look.
„I'm not a little kid anymore, Mom! What do you think I'm doing right now?", he wailed, his shorts in one hand, his pyjamas in the other.
„In the past, you were always happy when I greeted you in the morning like this", his mother replied without understanding, „and I had already seen you through the wall anyway", she added giggling.
„How wonderful that you are telling me this now!", he exclaimed with a bright red head, angry and ashamed at the same time, his gaze wandering down his body.
His mother closed the door laughing while Dennis put on his favorite screaming yellow shirt.
„So locking it up would have been useless. Good to know", he mumbled as he reached for a comb, „that means no privacy in this house. Somehow a bit creepy with this time-worn bloodsucker.
„I heard that!", his mother called out of the hallway from downstairs.
Shaking his head in annoyance but still quite impressed from his mother's skills he went in front of the mirror again to give his hair the finishing touch, only to discover that the comb had already broken in two pieces because of his irrepressible red curls.
„Great! How is this even getting worse?", he shouted indignantly and hurled both halves across the room. One of them accidentally hit the soap dispenser which was torn out of its holder and distributed his entire load on the floor.
Desperately, he wiped the floor dry with toilet paper before picking up the dispenser.
„Blobby's very first cream", Dennis read on it while he was flushing the toilet.
„Disgusting", he thought as he left the bathroom smashing the door into the lock and making his way downstairs.
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A Werewolf's Trigger: Monster Love
VampireMartha and her family were able to escape from the burning house and flee into exile about 150 years ago. As a result, Dracula has never decided to create a place where monsters can live together undisturbed. The Hotel Transylvania doesn't exist, as...
