Thirty-two Days
"My name is Grundlesmasher, and I'm a monster." She loomed over the podium, at least twice the height of a human, as the group chorused "Hello, Grundlesmasher." "It's been thirty-two days since I rent anyone." The assorted monsters applauded, and she described her struggle. When she finished, they applauded again as she returned to her heavily-reinforced seat. Illyria the succubus stood. "Thank you, Grundlesmasher. Who wants to go next? Carl?" The vampire demurred. "Medina?" The medusa shook her head. "How about our new member?"
A thin, pale man walked to the podium. "My name is Vernon, and I'm a monster."
"Are you sure?" someone called.
"Please, Dargoth the Abomination," Illyria said. "We accept everyone here."
"It's been zero days since my last murder." Vernon grinned. "I've killed indiscriminately, and set traps for people who come to help."
"You live on their blood?" Carl asked.
"Uh, no." The group murmured. "What? You're all like me."
"We're not like you," Medina hissed. "We have natural urges!"
"So do I!"
"But you're not fighting them," Illyria said.
"So? You call yourselves monsters. You're nothing. Just—" Grundlesmasher ripped him in two barehanded. She looked abashed.
"Sorry," she said. "Should I go again?"
They applauded.