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"No." Josiah Bartlet looked over his glasses. "No."
"I-I'm sorry to have to say, Mr. President, that in fact it is yes. Very much yes."
"You're sure John didn't send you?"
Rupert Giles looked at the letter of introduction in the president's hand. "I, er, I am the representative of the Watcher's Council of Britain, and..." He trailed off as Bartlet rose and threw open the office door.
"MRS. LANDINGHAM!"
"You don't need to shout, Mr. President."
"Mrs. Landingham, I need a copy of Dracula in here right away. Also some garlic. And could someone call the Library of Congress to see if they have Varney the Vampire by Thomas Prest. It's a little-known fact, Mr. Giles, that Stoker was a hack. Prest was working up this stuff in the 1840s."
"In fact, Mr. President, Varney the Vampire was written by James Malcom Rymer, and is only erroneously attributed to Prest. The word first appears in popular English works in 1734. And i-if I may beg your further attention, vampires are only one part of the, er, the tale. Which my superiors thought would, ah, interest. You." He turned to the secretary. "I beg your pardon."
"Dracula, Mr. President?"
"And garlic, Mrs. Landingham." He shut the door and regarded Giles for a long moment. "There's more?"

"Yes, Mr. President. Demons. Witches. Werewolves. All of it."
"Incubi?"
"Yes."
"Succubi?"
"Yes."
"Does holy water actually work on vampires?"
"Yes."
"You know, that's the kind of information that could have helped a fellow discern his vocation." He strode across the office and flung open another door. "LEO!"
"Yes, Mr. President."
"I've changed my mind. I'm becoming a priest."
"I'm sure the First Lady will be interested to hear that, sir."
"Leo, did you know that we have vampires in this country?"
Giles made a noise of protest, but the dry voice from the next room replied "No, sir, I didn't, but I was thinking it was time we broke the European monopoly on that sort of thing."
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"No." Josiah Bartlet looked over his glasses. "No."
"I-I'm sorry to have to say, Mr. President, that in fact it is yes. Very much yes."
"You're sure John didn't send you?"
Rupert Giles looked at the letter of introduction in the president's hand. "I, er, I am the representative of the Watcher's Council of Britain, and..." He trailed off as Bartlet rose and threw open the office door.
"MRS. LANDINGHAM!"
"You don't need to shout, Mr. President."
"Mrs. Landingham, I need a copy of Dracula in here right away. Also some garlic. And could someone call the Library of Congress to see if they have Varney the Vampire by Thomas Prest. It's a little-known fact, Mr. Giles, that Stoker was a hack. Prest was working up this stuff in the 1840s."
"In fact, Mr. President, Varney the Vampire was written by James Malcom Rymer, and is only erroneously attributed to Prest. The word first appears in popular English works in 1734. And i-if I may beg your further attention, vampires are only one part of the, er, the tale. Which my superiors thought would, ah, interest. You." He turned to the secretary. "I beg your pardon."
"Dracula, Mr. President?"
"And garlic, Mrs. Landingham." He shut the door and regarded Giles for a long moment. "There's more?"

"Yes, Mr. President. Demons. Witches. Werewolves. All of it."
"Incubi?"
"Yes."
"Succubi?"
"Yes."
"Does holy water actually work on vampires?"
"Yes."
"You know, that's the kind of information that could have helped a fellow discern his vocation." He strode across the office and flung open another door. "LEO!"
"Yes, Mr. President."
"I've changed my mind. I'm becoming a priest."
"I'm sure the First Lady will be interested to hear that, sir."
"Leo, did you know that we have vampires in this country?"
Giles made a noise of protest, but the dry voice from the next room replied "No, sir, I didn't, but I was thinking it was time we broke the European monopoly on that sort of thing."
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