"Sorry," Paul says to the embarrassment he'd just engendered, closing his eyes. "I'm currently completely sans filter. If you want to talk to someone who'd do a better job knowing what's appropriate and not to say, can't blame you. Paul Smecker, by the way.

"I didn't suck anyone's anything, thank Christ." Mental images he didn't want. There might be those who'd get off fantasizing about teenage girls, but Paul, avowed flaming queer, isn't one of them. Ugh.

"Witch. Right. Jesus H. Christ, how many of you are there?" he asks weakly, then half-sits up. "...wait, wait, this anti-vampire mojo.... could you do something like that permanently on a building?"