Hello dear freewriting friends!
The story of this we-write was as adventurous as the we-write itself.. right @brisby? :-P
There are both the prompts palimpsest and today's one. It's been priceless seeing how the sparkling @brisby 's mind took this we-write to a supreme level of delirium!
Well, what can you expect from the two Old Steemians Home vampires? I guess nothing more and nothing less than ...this!

Part 1 by @f3nix

It was two o'clock in the night and the Old Steemians Home was permeated with an unnatural silence. Indeed, such a beginning could have helped to create the right atmosphere. The fact is that, despite the late hour, the house was anything but silent.

@snook was sitting in front of the crackling fireplace, surrounded by a concert of keyboard ticking interspersed with her proverbial "woooot", modulated at different frequencies. @whatisnew, being a cat and therefore particularly sensitive to the supernatural, had jumped to full unlined claws straight on the head of @omra-sky, in the middle of a summoning ritual of dead purple squirrels. Omra, reading from a palimpsest attached to the wall, instead of finishing the formula by saying "incunabulis" had finished saying "incunabu-yeeeaaaaarghhh!!".

The thing was obviously derailed in the usual tragicomic brothel that distinguishes our group of stragglers: the squirrel spirit was indeed very angry to have been evoked so badly and brandished a multi-speed vibrating banana-light saber, threatening to use it against the freewriters.

@deaconlee had to intervene urgently. Coming out in a hurry from his room, in his customary tempered dragon scaled pajama, he had immediately set up a military strategy to stem the furious, vibrant squirrel.

But let's concentrate on the basement! A subdued and continuous mumbling came from below. Actually, @f3nix and @brisby the vampires had to be out hunting after the twilight, and yet they were standing by the coffins and eating the succulent bright red snook-fruits that abounded around their coffins.

Ah Snookie what you did! None of your most vigorous woot will ever be able to compete with the flatulence coming from the basement! The creator of the house had pampered the two night creatures with always ready, abundant and succulent food, so close to their coffins that they only had to stretch out a clawed hand to take it.

Nobody doubts her good intentions. The problem is that now the two vampires had totally softened and, no longer going out hunting for prey in movement, they had started to gain weight – plus some beginning of osteoporosis - and the more they fattened the more they became entangled. By now @f3nix did not even leave the coffin, he had created a telescopic fork with which he penetrated the ripe fruit, even the most distant ones. @brisby instead preferred to use a lizard skin lasso. From the stairs @mariannewest looked at them shaking her head, more and more worried: the coffins had broken down and now they were almost unusable. In the meantime, to create the most appropriate atmosphere for the imminent disaster, @simgirl was playing with her theremin the "Death Star" melody.

Part 2 by @brisby

Earlier in the week, @improv had ventured into the basement, basket in hand, intending to gather the addictive pomes and secret them out of the reach of the potbellied duo. The kindly werewolf never made it as far as the vines. A deep stab to his hindquarters had sent him careening forward and into the range of Brisby's lasso. Hours had passed until the stern command of their beloved Goddess gained his release. With his heightened senses, it had taken days for his nausea to subside.

Marianne descended into the gloom carrying a box postmarked from California with her. The two vampires glanced briefly at her with beatific, juice smeared smiles, then returned to their munching, vaguely attentive to sounds of the battle above. F3nix shifted his bloated frame, rising, only to claim a new delicacy from the end of his fork. Their disinterest in joining the fray, and the atrocious odor, bolstered the Goddess's resolve. Setting to work, she began placing the contents of her parcel within each delectable snook-fruit.

Above, the skirmish was favoring the freewriters, who finally had the ferocious undead rodent cornered. Tail flicking, teeth bared, it hissed its anger to the group that had dared summon it. Deaconlee, reclaimed saber in hand, was advancing to finish the foe when it leaped to the bookshelves. Skittering along the wall, it exited the room with the fighters in pursuit. The violet vermin raced along the hallway, turned and quickly bounded down into the basement.

Brisby had been snacking on her fourth piece of modified fruit when she felt a terrible gurgling deep within. A very unladylike trumpeting sound erupted from her coffin, rattling one of the sides before it surrendered and smashed to the floor. In desperation, she rolled from coffin's remains, attempted to stand, then used her lasso to drag herself to the bathroom. Behind, she heard the shuffling sounds of a groaning F3nix making his way on all fours towards salvation.

Unable to bear the graphic blasts of sounds and cries from within the two bathrooms, Marianne hurried towards the stairs, crossing paths with the fleeing squirrel and her band of freewriters. Before the battle could begin anew, a distinct FLUSHING sound cut the tension. A moment later, two doors opened, revealing two weakened vampires and a level of reek that was practically visible.

The purple squirrel spasmed, a look of affront crossing its face, then collapsed to the floor. The group, unable to defend against the terrible funk, retreated up the stairs, slamming the door shut behind them. Onto the polished surface, the Goddess slapped the prompt, DEODORIZE.