It was late one evening, and Cynthia was getting ready for another night at the strip club. She stood in front of the mirror in her bedroom, carefully applying her makeup and adjusting her skimpy outfit. The black leather miniskirt barely covered her ass, and the lacy red top left little to the imagination. She slipped on her favorite pair of black and red high heels, the ones that made her long legs look like they went on for miles.

Just then, her mother Glenda burst into the room. "Cynthia, you won't believe what I've done!" she exclaimed breathlessly.

Cynthia turned, surprised by her mother's sudden intrusion. "What is it, Mom? I'm about to head out for my shift at the club..."

Glenda waved a strange looking device in her hand. "I've been tinkering with this secret shrinking ray gun in my lab. And I used it on that horrible vampire boyfriend of yours, Vladimir. I shrunk the little creep down to the size of an insect!"

Cynthia's eyes widened in shock. "You what?! Mom, are you crazy? Where is he now?"

Glenda smiled wickedly. "Oh, I left him writhing around on the living room carpet. I thought it would be poetic justice if my darling daughter accidentally crushed the bloodsucking rat under her stiletto heel. He's been treating you so poorly, it's about time he learned his place!"

Cynthia bit her lip, torn. A part of her was furious at her mother for interfering in her relationship like this. But another part of her couldn't help but feel a thrill at the idea of destroying Vladimir, the arrogant prick who'd been toying with her affections and feeding on her blood for months now.

"Well, I suppose he did have it coming," Cynthia said slowly. "Even if your methods are a bit extreme, Mom. I'll just have to be careful not to actually kill the little shit..."

Arm in arm, mother and daughter made their way to the living room. Cynthia paused in the doorway, scanning the carpet carefully with her eyes. There, off in the corner - a tiny black shape was crawling across the fibers.

She frowned. Even shrunk down, Vladimir still looked like the pale, scrawny creep he'd always been. His dark clothes and slicked back hair made him resemble a sad little insect more than a fearsome creature of the night.

"I see the bastard," Cynthia growled. "He looks so pathetic like that. Barely even worth squashing..."

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