Hampire
An overweight figure, most commonly found lurking about goth clubs after the successful plunder of a local Honeybaked location. By the trail of honey glaze, the Hampire is armed with a bodily odor so foul, that it asphyxiates those caught in the wake of its' greasy treacle. Should you encounter a Hampire, it is said that the best defense against the foul pantry-dweller, is a good pair of cross-training shoes: If it can't keep up with you, the Hampire will soon loose all interest in you, favoring the closest emochilde it can snack upon.
"Hey, where'd my sandwich go, and why does it smell like rancid bacon on this patio?"
"Damn dude, did you see the size of that Hampire that went past? That Gloomcow almost stuck me to the floor with how much patchouli was funked onto her!"
"Damn dude, did you see the size of that Hampire that went past? That Gloomcow almost stuck me to the floor with how much patchouli was funked onto her!"
Hampire by Col. Harland Sanders March 4, 2009
