The Crashing Bore

"Dude! Beer! Babes!"

Unlike the Minutia Maven, the Crashing Bore is far from polite. The Greater Crashing Bore will, under the proper circumstances, force the subject of his fascination on everyone around him and demand that they participate. The Lesser Crashing Bore, on the other hand, choose to involve himself in other people's activities and can quickly change them from enjoyable pastimes to opportunities to display his lack of social graces.

Habitat: Preferred stalking grounds include dormitories, bad live-action games, other people's parties, and anywhere beer is available.

Identification: Loud clothing is common among younger Bores, and some will enhance their offensiveness by cultivating bad grooming, potbellies, halitosis and unusual body odor. Older Bores will further their complete disregard for the sensibilities of others by harboring a penchant for anachronistic and tasteless fashion, such as two-tone shoes, half-zipped chinos and dress shirts buttoned to the very top.

Although I regard myself as a modest and sensible pooka, I quite lost my temper with a young man who interrupted my reverie with a sizable warren of my lapine cousins. In the midst of my delightful discussion with a young rabbit about the availability of dandelions in the vicinity he began screaming about how delighted he was to see so much rabbit meat around. He began chasing the rabbits around the field, trampling dandelions and alarming does through the warren. I was forced to convince him that he was no longer a human, but actually a mobile dandelion. He was summarily terrorized by three rabbits who chased him throughout the forest and threatened to eat his leafy bits.
¤
I have only once been able to converse with an actual vampire. I had been called upon to negotiate a treaty between the sewer-dwelling Nosferatu and a family of sluagh. the representative of the Nosferatu appeared to me as a strikingly beautiful yet tragically pale creature dressed in the height of Gothic fashion. I accommodated her tastes in fashion by wearing a tasteful, yet informal, ruffled shirt.
Not long after our discussion began, we were met by an unsightly fellow in a black T-shirt who began to question us at great length on whether we were vampires. He then explained how immensely "cool" every aspect of vampiric life was, informed us of his devotion to Black Dog games, asked us about "live action", and challenged us repeatedly to games of rock, paper and scissors.
I replied that I was not a vampire, but actually a giant shapechanging rabbit who was merely trying to find his way back to Arcadia. He responded that he wasn't a part of that plot, and summarily ran off to find someone to give him "experience" for the evening.

- Autumn, dreaming