The Garou and I, meanwhile, start having our fun with the other girls, just doing various dumbass yet ultimately traumatizing things. The dad’s almost gone by this point, and the girl has fainted a few more times, forcing us to forcibly reawaken her again, and she’s starting to die of fright and hypothermia. Eventually, we get to the point where the father is skinless (and probably dead), the birthday girl is heaving her last breaths, and only one little house guest remains, a small, shuddering nine-year-old girl. Well, we want at least one witness, so the three of us declare “job well done” and decide to wrap it up by having the Baali, an expert in both the buying of souls for Hell and explosives, use his latter talent to the send the house off with a final bang, leaving the last little girl alive and sobbing on the front lawn for the authorities to find.
Ah, but there’s one last thing: we don’t want anyone, Camarilla or otherwise, knowing who did this, do we? So I use a bit of the old Domination on the little girl, and alter three little things in her memories of that night: our respective identities. That little girl would, ‘till the end of her days, swear on her life that the fiends responsible for this travesty were her favorite cartoon characters: Spongebob, Squidward, and Patrick.