Vampires: Bringers of life! Ironic, right?
Camarilla: Yawn.
Sabbat: My heart belongs to Daddy...
Independent: I guess they got that stick so far up their collective ass by sitting on the fence for so long.
Werewolves: Go back to your kennel, pooch.
Wraiths: What? I don't care. I don't plan to join them.
Changelings: Now, these guys can party. And they squeak nicely when you bite them.
Mortals: The kine are either for food, fucking, or flaying. Nothing else.
Demons: Are you serious?
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