"It's like this. We come from different worlds. I like tofu donuts. You like mustard on crackers. I like milk with my meal. You like blood. I'm a fairly well-adjusted Merican teen-ager with a fairly normal background, if you overlook the fact that my mother died mysteriously when I was thirteen and my father took off for the Bahamas to heal his broken heart and we haven't heard from him in over a year."
"You, on the other hand, have a long dark history: a grandfather whose neighbors drove a stake through his heart, a father who spent 10 years in prison for robbing a blood bank, and -- what's most difficult to overlook -- a mother who thinks preservatives are put in your food to keep you from rotting. I like you and all, really I do, but I just don't think I can feel comfortable in a relationship with an immortal non-human blood-glugging dark nocturnal..."
"Hey, Maggie! Fancy running into you here!"
"...demon."
"Oops. Am I interrupting something?"
"No, I was just leaving."
"You can have my chair."
"And oh, by the way. You are so wrong about me."
"I am not immortal."
"Even with the preservatives."
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