Disclaimer: I do not own Count Duckula. (More's the pity.)

A/N: Authorial expertise? What's that?

YAY: Count Duckula! My mind tingles with that familiar taste resounding on the page. Long have I missed it.

Won't you join me with a duck call at midnight? You'll never know who may answer!

Psycho-Transmission

Castle Duckula: Majestic, magnificent ... malevolent.

Home for many centuries to the darkest denizens of the night: The Counts of Duckula.

From deep within this dismal place, an evil cackle resounds, echoing down the precipice to the peasant folk residing at the bottom of the hill.

"Yah, I haff done it!" Goosewing shrieked excitedly, "Und, finally, vis zis mein Docktor Von Goosewing patent pending psycho-transmission amplifier, I shall destroy ze foul fiend vonce and fur alles!" Goosewing's teeth glimmered as he grinned at himself in the mirror of his workshop. "Yah, to defeat a wampire, one must first zhink like a wampire! Und vhen I uze zis machine on Count Duckula, zhen, helpless to me he vill be."

Goosewing walked cautiously down the corridors of Castle Duckula. He had to find Count Duckula before the manservant found him. He turned the corner and crashed into a solid, mountainous object.

"Ooh." Nanny turned around as he stood back up. "Cheeky."

"Uh, excuse me." He looked up at the monstrosity in a maid's outfit. "You haven't seen a wampire 'round here?" He straightened his tie and gripped tightly onto the psycho-transmission amplifier. Then he had an idea. 'If I could have the help of this woman, it would greatly improve my chances at getting to Count Duckula.' "Ahem. I vould like to show you mein transmission unit, mein ... radio. It is most simple to operate, vone just points it at the person and svitches it on like zo."

Count Duckula was raiding the fridge, too hungry once again to wait for dinner. "Oo, carrot juice." He grabbed the small bottle and pulled off the top. He took a swig and spat it back out. "That's not c-carrot juice!" He raced to the sink, and began gulping down a copious amount of water. Once he'd recovered from his horror, he turned around. "IGOR!" He screamed at the top of his voice.

Igor appeared shortly from around the door frame.
"That was a cheap trick, Igor. Really low."
"Alas, it is true; I am reduced to mediocrity, in my attempts to return my master to his former glory."
"Oh, you're so poetic, Igor. That's not getting you out of this one."
"Of course not sir." Igor's eyes glimmered with a shard of hope.

But instead, Count Duckula's mind drifted elsewhere. "Hey, have you seen Nanny around today?" Duckula listened; "I don't hear anything breaking."
"Well, there is very little left for her to break, sir." Igor, the faithful manservant always obliged his master's topics of conversation.
"That's true; except for the portraits, and the cobwebs, and that silly hall of mirrors."
"I can't imagine why you let that dreadful man do such a thing."
"It seemed like a good idea at the time. But where is Nanny, anyway?"

Igor cursed under his breath. If he couldn't make his master a vampire, couldn't he at least make him a hot-tempered monster? That was why he had replaced the carrot juice with blood. Only when the young master was angry was he at his most savage. Duckula moved off, his mind set to locating his doting, dotty Nanny. Igor suppressed a sigh, and dutifully followed.

After about five minutes, Duckula turned a corner and crashed into Nanny. He straightened his beak. "Oh, there you are, Nanny." Nanny didn't turn around. "Nanny? Nanny!"
She shook, and turned, "Oh, Duckyboos."

"Dammerunt. Was ist loss mit meine machine ...?" Duckula skirted a bit around Nanny, his eyes widened.
"Goosewing!"
Goosewing's expression was keen. "Yah, das ist correct, you fiend! Und, take zis!"

Goosewing zapped Duckula with the weapon before Igor could get past Nanny in the narrow corridor to protect him.
"Master!" Igor grabbed Duckula before he crumpled to the floor. He was still whole; that was something at least.

"Ugh, what ... happened?" The count was standing back on his feet now.
"Your threats are futile, Doctor von Goosewing." Igor growled. "The Duckula's have always been resilient against the slayers. And you have still to deal with me, as yet!"

Goosewing gulped, not willing to take the threat of Igor unprepared, he turned and ran. He was never prepared to take on Igor.

"Wait a minute!" Duckula said in alarm. Then he raced after the slayer. "Hold it, hold everything ... wait just a minute!" Igor heard him yelling into the distance, the front door slammed.

"What's this?" Igor picked up Goosewing's weapon.
"That doctor van whats-it called it a radio, Mr. Igor. But I didn't 'ear nothin' when he turned it on."

Igor frowned. Just because it didn't work on Nanny's brain, didn't mean it hadn't worked on the vegetarian vampire's brain. "Yes," he reviewed his analysis, "I do believe this is a delta wave amplifier." His eyes narrowed in thought. "But what would it do to a vampire?" No, strike that. What would a subliminal messaging device do to an insanely arrogant but still impressionable young vegetarian vampire, who hardly had begun to tap into the strength of his vampire abilities?

Count Duckula was puffed, as he sank back against the rocks at the bottom of the mountain. For an old goose, the slayer was sure fast on his feet.

"I resolve to get more fit." Duckula announced to himself. "Now where is that miscreant troublemaker? He never leaves me alone! I was happy, I was ... well, I wouldn't call myself content, being cooped up everyday in the castle with Igor and Nanny, but ..." He rubbed his head. He turned as something in his mind was prickling. Cave, in there. He headed towards it and went in.

Goosewing sure had himself set up in plenty of places. Duckula gazed around. There were beakers of this and appliances for that.
"Ha, I've got you now you fiend, wizout Igor to protect you!"
Duckula leapt forwards and yanked the weapon out of Goosewing's hands before he could finish aiming it. "What did you do to me, you monster?"
"I am not ze monster, you are."
"I am ..." Duckula's eyes glazed over. "Why am I a monster? No, I'm not." He shook his head slightly.
"Yah, you! You are an undead wampire of ze night! You drink blood, you are a monster."
"I drink ..." Duckula's eyes glazed over again. "I ..." He struggled again, "No! I don't ... drink ..."

"I've never ..." Goosewing tried to make sense of the other's struggle. Was a vampire that didn't drink blood even possible? Duckula's eyes glazed over again. "I drink blood?"
"Ach, mein Gott!" The psycho-transmitter had actually worked and so convinced that Goosewing was that he'd successfully convinced Duckula as well.

"I drink ... blood."
"N-nein, I meant ..." Goosewing struggled in the Count's grip, only now he realised the difference. He watched long fangs extend from the vampire's beak, before he was dragged even closer.
"I must ... drink ... blood." Duckula's face showed a final internal struggle against the psychological imperative that Goosewing had forced on him, before he lowered his head to Goosewing's neck.