Lois slid up to the bar, wincing as she realized that the seat was covered in some kind of slime. She quickly changed seats and turned to the bartender, who was another member of the gray faced set with the ridged eyes.

“What’s the house special?” she asked.

“Depends,” he said. He glanced back at a mirror over the bar. “You aren’t a vamp. Neither is your friend. What are you into?”

Lois frowned.

“Blood, exotic protoplasms, spinal secretions from desert lizards?”

“Um…what sort of blood do you have?” Lois asked, feeling somewhat queasy.

“A positive, O negative, Otter, pig, cow and Ibex.” The waiter leaned forward. “I wouldn’t recommend the human stuff, myself. They get it out of the medical waste bins at the hospital, and I understand that the diseases can give it a real tang.”

“Ibex?” Clark asked.

“We’ve got an African supplier who comes up with the primo stuff.”

“I don’t suppose you have Diet Coke,” Lois asked. Glancing around, she said, “Still in the can.”

The waiter smiled slightly. “I guess you folks must be new in town.”

Originally posted by TOC:
(And believe me, you had me snickering at the suggestion that a lot of people in Hollywood are actually demons!