It's not their dark murdering terrifying predatory nature that's the problem. I mean, it's a dangerous risk, but so's driving a car or skiing. It's constant dark hinting and innuendo. All five of them spent the whole breakfast exchanging secrets and significant glances, bragging about their nonspecific sorrows, making ironic quips with one eyebrow raised, and jockeying for status with subtle social jabs.
I was like, hello? I am trying to eat, guys!
Anyway, they invited me to breakfast again next week. Hypnotized by their savage nocturnal allure, and also not wanting to be rude, I said yes. Argh! If I have to endure one more smirking gallos-humor suggestion of undead menace, I am going to throw up.