Natalie was in a bind. Only one flight could get her to the annual shareholders’ meeting in time: Monst-Air 666.
Luckily, she’d packed her carry-on well.
So, when her pale-complected seatmate flashed his fangs, she was ready, pelting him with garlic cloves. The vampire grumbled and resumed his Sudoku.
When the howling window-seat occupant sprouted facial hair, Natalie rewarded the “good puppy” with Milk-Bones. The werewolf yapped playfully.
And when a frazzled fright attendant announced, “Could, uh, Passenger Frankenstein retrieve his wandering…baggage…from business class, and quickly?” Natalie sighed and readied her spare shackles.
Next year, she was flying broomstick.