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"Hey kiddo. Heard some noise coming from here. Everything cool? You don't have a broad in there, do you?" He sighed. "No Boris. Just me. Smashed the shit out of my clock again." The grotesque, fat man rubbed his chin inquisitively. He was Sam's landlord. And though his appearance could be described as the result of several back-to-back accidents, or as a birth defect, the truth is worse by a wide margin. He was, what one might call, a vampire. "Bad dreams again, eh? Need a little, you know." Boris clicked twice with his forked tongue and winked at his tenant. The bite of a vampire, surprising though it may be, is actually quite a nice experience. Even if it's done by an ugly bastard like Boris. That is, if you're awake for it. Boris normally just sucks off his tenants when they sleep. It's the reason his prices are so low, you don't pay with money. But the two of them have a deal, and Sam can just ask him for a hit. He rarely does so however. He figures if the shit feels better than alcohol or many drugs, then it has to be addictive as fuck, so he tries not to even think about it. "No thanks Boris. I think I'll just stay awake. Got a lot of stuff to do anyway." His fanged landlord nods. "Alright. But if you feel like sleeping like a baby, you know where to find me. Oh, and keep it down, I can barely hear the tenants in 42B fuckin' from your button mashing!" Boris chuckled to himself as he left and as Sam shut the door behind him. He dislikes the prick immensely. But sadly he's still the best landlord he had so far. At least with Boris he can afford groceries every week.
