-Hey.

-Go burst your boils, Renfield.

I'm playing hid and seek with Vlad.

-Not anymore you're not.

You're mum's here.

-Good.

This is my kitchen.

Not a playground.

So get lost.

And take your bag with you.

ELIZABETH: I do miss my Graham when

he's away at these plumbing conventions.

-Ahh.

Really?

-Apparently today they're discussing

some very exciting innovations in-- whoops.

Oh.

I must get this fixed.

Would you mind?

Everything all right?

-Everything is practically perfect.

-No!

Let me. -Oh.

-Dad's all thumbs.

Oh.

Thanks Vlad.

You're such a sweet boy.

Come on, Robin.

We don't want to be late for dinner.

Bye.

-Dinner.

Just what I was thinking.

-Dad!

-Ah.

-What's this?

RENFIELD: Crunchy rice and cream.

-But where are the cockroaches?

They're the crunch.

Without them, it's just a couple of small rodents in cow juice.

-A thousand apologies Master.

-Stuff your apologies.

I want my cockroaches.

-They're gone, Master. Abandoned ship.

-You're a housekeeper who can't keep house.

Your cooking is disgusting.

And a dead badger would be better company.

Remind me.

Why do I put up with you?

-Well, because I'm cheap.

Please Master.

If you twist any harder, my ear's going to come off.

-He's right. Go on.

Just one more turn.

-I can't.

-Oh.

-I'm too weak with hunger.

I mean when am I going to get someone decent to eat?

-I think you mean something.

-I know what I mean.

I can't bear this hunger.

-I know it's hard.

But this peasant-free diet is really working for you.

Well, you've got less color in your cheeks.

And ah-- that pasty goth look's really in right now.

-Well, you know.

I've always been a handsome rogue.

It's this classic bone structure.

I can carry off any look.

You're lucky Vlad.

You've inherited it from me.

Shame.

-Go lie on a sunbed.

-Oh.

My poor stomach.

I want blood.

And I want it now.

-Cockroaches.

The basic ingredient for so many practical jokes.

ELIZABETH: Robin. Hurry up.

You're going to be late.

VAN HELSING: So

got planned for this weekend?

-Let me guess.

We're going to stake out the castle as usual.

Look for vampires as usual.

Find nothing as usual.

Go home and watch your Dr. Who DVDs as usual.

-Well, that's where you're wrong.

-Really?

-Your DVD's broken.

--I want to forget about vampires this weekend

and do something other fathers and sons do

like-- like fishing.

-Do you like fishing then? -I don't know.

Nobody's ever taken me.

-Ingrid?

You ah-- going to the school disco next week.

-They've begged me so I'm thinking about it.

-Right.

I you do go, is there any chance you'd ah--, you know,

forced possibly go with--

-Me. -Jog on loser.

I asked first.

-Only cause you tied me to the gate.

INGRID: Boys.

Boys.

There is no point in arguing.

I'd rather let a tarantula lay eggs in my ear

then be seen in public with either of you.

Now get out of my face.

-Oh.

-Yes.

Three more hours to go, then two whole days of no school.

-I kinda miss it.

-And people think I'm weird.

-OK if I hang out at yours this weekend?

Dad's desperate for blood.

It's be a disaster if any breathers get in his way.

-You worry too much.

What's the worst that can happen?

-Uh-- Hello?

What part of my Dad's a blood sucking

killing machine didn't get?

You're mum has to stay away, well away.

-Mr. Count.

Mr. Count.

Open the door.

My house is infested with horrible bugs.

You've got to help me.

THE COUNT: Of course dear lady.

Please come in.

-Oh thank you. Oh.

Thank you so much.

-Out of 10, how bad would it be if I just

got a message saying on no account

do we go home but go straight to the castle

where Mum is waiting for us?

-Oh, I love these games.

It's like, if you have to, who would you kiss?

A ferret or your nan?

Uh-- you Mum r-- really--

-Is about to get her veins sucked dry.

Come on.

Let's go.

-Hang on. -Robin.

-OK. OK.

I'm coming.

-I wonder why those three are in such a hurry.

-We don't care. We're going fishing.

-Yes.

But maybe just a quick--

-No!

Otherwise, I'll tell the headmistress

that you got [inaudible] to me 200 sling states

for their end-of-term woodwork project.

[scream]

-Mum.

-Hello loves.

I was just showing Mr. Count how I screamed when I discovered

our house is overrun with horrible, creepy crawly

cockroaches.

-Cockroaches?

-Can you imagine?

I just have to get out of there.

And there's no way we're going back

until Mr. Renfield's got rid of the lot of them.

-So where are you staying?

-Your dad said we could stay here.

He's such a wonderful neighbor.

-Oh yes.

-No.

There's no room.

-It's a castle.

-Uh-- wh-- INGRID: Look.

Will you two stop following me around

like a couple of love sick puppies.

Oh, great.

The whole stinking litter's here.

-We're staying the night.

Our house is infested with cockroaches.

-I know exactly how it feels.

RENFIELD: See what trouble you cause when you run away

from daddy, my little lovelies hmm?

I can't let the master down.

I have to find each and every one of you.

Then I'll be trusty old Renfield again.

[kissing]

-I really don't know why you both look so uptight.

I've been meaning to have Mrs. Branaugh

for dinner for some time.

-That's what worries me.

You make my best friends mum into one of ya,

and Dad, it's going to seriously affect our relationship.

-How 'bout a thought for the real victim here.

I'm the one has to put up with dumb and dumber

worshiping the ground I glide on 24/7.

Do you have any idea how tiring it is being adored all day.

-Ingrid. Ingrid.

I hate to see you so stressed about this when you

have so much more to worry about.

-Like what?

-While Renfield's away, you're going

to be responsible for his household chores.

Heh.

I've made a list.

-I don't believe you. You're evil.

-It goes with the fangs.

-Ohhh. VLAD: Dad, listen.

If the Branaugh's find out you're the big D,

it will be hello pitchfork wielding mob again.

Only round here it'll probably be baseball bats.

Promise me, you'll behave yourself.

-Mmm?

Oh, cross my heart and hope to live.

-Mmm.

Smells delicious.

-Oh. Rank.

Must be something round here we can eat.

-Hi boys.

-What have we done? -Nothing.

I've just been thinking.

Maybe I will go to the disco with one of you.

-Really?

-Who?

-Depends who wants it the most.

Right now, I've got a pile of ironing that needs doing.

The iron's in the kitchen.

-I can't believe we're going to spend

the whole weekend fishing.

Thanks Dad.

-Pleasure son.

-And you're not going to mention vampires or slaying.

-Slayers-- I mean scout's honor.

-Aren't you going to take your coat off?

-In a minute. A bit chilly.

-Open your coat.

-Yeah, but I--I'm--

-Now!

-How did that lot get there?

-I had no idea you'd provide me with such

a satisfying feast, Mrs. Branaugh.

Mmmm.

-Cooking dinner was the least I could

do seeing as Mr. Renfield's so busy down at ours.

-Honestly, that was the best cashakeeshka

I've eaten in centuries.

-Centuries?

-Oh, did I say that?

I meant it feels like centuries.

What-- what is the cashakeeshka?

-I found it in a Transylvanian cookbook

at the back of the cupboard.

It's salamander intestine stuffed

with buckwheat groats and pig's blood.

-Oh.

-Oh.

I think I'm going to be sick.

-I do love pig.

It's my second favorite blood.

-I know exactly what you mean.

-You do?