Somewhere in Transylvania, Dracula the monster is sleeping in his coffin, waiting for night to fall. As exposure to the sun's rays would surely cause him to perish, he stays protected in the satin-lined chamber bearing his family name in silver. Then the moment of darkness comes, and through some miraculous instinct the fiend emerges from the safety of his hidingplace and, assuming the hideous forms of the bat or the wolf, he prowls the country-side, drinking the blood of his victims. Finally, before the first rays of his archenemy, the sun, announce a new day, he hurries back to the safety of his hidden coffin and sleeps, as the cycle begins anew.
Now he starts to stir. The fluttering of his eyelids is a response to some age-old, unexplainable instinctthat the sun is nearly down and his time is near. Tonight, he is particularly hungry as he lies there, fully awake now, in red-lined inverness cape and tails, waiting to feel with uncanny perception the precise moment of darkness before opening the lid and emerging, he decides who this evening's victims will be. The baker and his wife, he thinks to himself. Succulent, available, and unsuspecting. Thethought of the unwary couple whose trust he has carefully cultivated excites his blood lust to a fever pitch, and he can barely hold back these last seconds before climbing out of the coffin to seek his prey. Suddenly he knows the sun is down. Like an angel of hell, he rises swiftly, and changing into a bat, flies pell-mell to the cottage of his tantalizing victims.
'Why, count Dracula, what anice surprise,' the baker's wife says, opening the door to admit him. (He has once again assumed human form, as he enters their home, charmingly concealing his rapacious goal.)
'What brings you here so early?' the baker asks.
'Our dinner date,' the count answers. 'I hope i haven't made an error. You did invite for tonight, didn't you?'
'Yes, tonight, but that's not for seven hours.'
'Pardonme?' Dracula queries, looking around the room puzzled.
'Or did you come to watch the eclipse with us?'
'Yes. Today’s the total eclipse.'
'A few moments of darkness from noon until two minutes after. Look out the window.'
'Uh-oh. I’m in big trouble.'
'And now if you'll excuse me. .'
‘What count Dracula?'
'Must be going-aha-oh god . . . 'frantically he fumbles forthe doorknob.
'Going? You just came.'
'Yes-but-i thinks i blew it very badly . . .'
'Count Dracula, you're pale.'
'Am i? I need a little fresh air. It was nice seeing you . . .'
'Come. Sit down. We’ll have a drink.'
'Drink? No, i must run. er-you're stepping on my cape.'
'Sure. Relax. Some wine.'
'Wine? Oh no, gave it up-liver and all that, you know. And now i really must buzz off. I justremembered, i left the lights on in the castle-bills will be enormous . . .'
'Please,' the baker says his arm around the count in firm friendship. 'You’re not intruding. Don’t be so polite. So you're early.'
'Really, I’d like to stay but there's a meeting of old Romanian counts across town and I’m responsible for the cold cuts.'
'Rush, rush, rush. It’s a wonder you don't get a heart attack.''Yes, right-and now-'
'I’m making chicken pilaf tonight,' the baker's wife chimes in.
'I hope you like it.'
'Wonderful, wonderful,' the count says, with a smile, as he pushes her aside into some laundry. Then, opening a closet door by mistake, he walks in.
'Christ. Where’s the goddamn front door?'
'Ach,' laughs the baker's wife, 'such a funny man, and the count.'
'I knew you'd like that,'Dracula says, forcing a chuckle, 'now get out of my way.' at last he opens the front door but time has run out on him.
'Oh, look, mama,' says the baker, 'the eclipse must be over. The sun is coming out again.'
'Right,' says Dracula, slamming the front door. 'I’ve decided to stay. Pull down the window shades quickly-quickly! Let’s move it!'
'What window shades?' asks the baker?
'There are none,...