Okay, so this is frighteningly random...but I think you will enjoy it. Literally thought up and written in ten minutes.
Dracula squared his shoulders and marched out onto the dance floor. He was looking for his next bride-to-be, Anna Valerious. The thought that she was his distant relative, descended from his brother or cousin or whatever, struck the audience as vaguely disgusting. Maybe they would have mutant children. More mutant, that is, than little hairy winged creatures. Far worse: these children would enjoy television shows like Teletubbies.

Dracula was blissfully ignorant of all this. He walked out onto the dance floor, and everyone turned and gasped in wonder at the stunning pink cloak he was sporting. He spun quickly, almost losing his balance, and gave them all a good view of the swirling fabric, complete with sequins. Aleera had made him take off the feathers at the bottom, insisting that he might be more attractive to Van Helsing than to Anna.

Speaking of Van Helsing—Dracula's eyes narrowed. He could see his nemesis lurking up on the balcony, no doubt planning a strategy to ask Anna to dance before he could. That would not do. He, Dracula, was lord and master here—besides, he had already commissioned a wedding cake. With himself wearing a tiny pink bowtie.

He located Anna in the crowd and started toward her. She was stunning in a dark red dress and ridiculously plastic-looking earrings. For once, she was not wearing stiletto heels, and one suspects that with her dancing skills, Dracula may have paid her not to wear them; stilettos do not feel pleasant when applied with great force upon the foot. Van Helsing evidently had thought of this, and his moonshoes were causing great merriment among the guests who could see him from the floor below.

"Shall we dance, milady?" Dracula's voice, so practiced and so smooth, came out as a squeak. Anna nearly snorted her champagne all over him. Rolling her eyes—never a good sign—she said, sighing heavily, "All right. Just don't let that idiot over there dance with me, will you?"

"Who?"

"Van Helsing, of course. He's been trying to inch closer all night. I'd really rather dance with Igor. At least he doesn't step on my feet."

Dracula found himself oddly delighted that Anna was the one who had feared having her toes trodden upon. He pulled Anna into his arms and they began to dance. Several hundred vampiric guests threw themselves out of the way as Anna decided to demonstrate a new style of waltz that involved racing one's partner down the dance floor, clasped hands thrust out like a spear. More than one waiter was nearly impaled upon Anna's clawlike fingernails.

Dracula decided that this was enough. More to stop the impending general stampede toward the exit than anything—although the look on Van Helsing's face (he was in the way of said stampede) was priceless—he yanked Anna toward him and kissed her on the mouth. He immediately regretted his decision, as she was wearing several pounds of lipstick and their mouths became quite literally stuck together. As he was trying to wrench free, he thanked God—ironically—that he did not need oxygen.

At this point, Anna shoved away from him, and he made a remark about her being a puppet on his string. While he was congratulating himself on the brilliance of this incredibly clichéd line, Anna was dragging him into another football-play waltz form. She saw someone standing near the wall, wearing the same dress as her, and pulled Dracula toward the person, intending to finish off the unfortunate imitator. She ran smack into the mirror-wall, and Dracula tried his hardest to keep from laughing; he failed miserably.

Anna looked in shock at her reflection. "But—but—" Dracula decided that her IQ was quite possibly lower than Van Helsing's. To save the time of explaining, he pulled her back into his arms. "I am looking for a new bride, Anna. Someone strong and beautiful."

"You make my skin crawl," she said, somewhat more intelligently.

"That is not all I could do with your skin." He kissed her neck, making every female audience member sigh.

Then he said some semi-inappropriate stuff and did some semi-inappropriate things and Van Helsing, whose moonshoes didn't fit and who was getting sick of Carl's "knock-knock" jokes, threw himself off the balcony. His suicide attempt didn't work so well, and he ended up knocking over a torch-bearer, who lit Dracula on fire.

Dracula made a very unbecoming noise and dropped his intended bride, who indignantly attempted to trip him as he turned on the torchbearer. Van Helsing, whose skull was rather thick anyway, got up and was practically carried out of the castle by Anna. Frankenstein had made an appearance in here somewhere, but no one had really cared because he wasn't "human". Carl just hid on the balcony. And thus the great hero Van Helsing saved Anna Valerious from certain doom.


hahahaha I almost started laughing in the library as I wrote this...baaaad. Please review!