I think you’re in for a nasty, little surprise.

The corpses were left out on platforms in the forest by a lake. At night, owls pecked the eyes from the cadavers; that may or may not have something to do with the owls’ remarkable night vision. When I visited the burial grounds, I was amazed to see the owls swimming a small pond with only their beaks above water; presumably this was some sort of of very thorough bird bath.

I was unnerved when the undertaker arrived, pulled out a saw from a worn, canvas bag and began sawing the head off the body of an old man. He put the head in an open wooden box, then repeated the process with the other three corpses. He piled the headless cadavers and the four boxed heads on the wagon, then towed it away with his tractor. All in an afternoon’s work.

I asked about the practice at the inn that night. One of the locals explained that a lot of villagers were superstitious after hearing disconcerting vampire stories from their neighbors to the north in Transylvania. Since no one had ever heard of a headless vampires, everyone figures separate burials for heads and bodies was only prudent.

“And what do you suggest I do instead?” Klaus demanded.

“There’s no point in getting even,” I replied, “get odd.”

Get this: people who drink too much alcohol become afflicted with gout. I have no idea what gout is, but I do know that all of the heavy drinkers I know enjoy excellent health, therefore I needn’t worry about gout.

Another day, another scary news story: I’ll drink to that!