Monsters make the best racecar drivers -- there ain't no silver bullets
or wooden spikes on at Daytona, baby. Although...there was an incident
where a chromium lugnut worked loose during a race, and was hurled at
tremendous speed through the windshield of David Vulpeca -- funnily
enough, he died. And one time, Vlad Mogilny found himself downdraft of
a competitor's crash into a wooden Purolator sign, with the unfortunate
result his immortality was terminated too early.

Still, these are so rare -- most of the time they can spill, roll fifty
times, crash and crumple into flames, and walk out smiling -- what's
more, they're uncommonly brave and considerate, and will return again
and again into the maelstrom until everyone's out safe.

Which is why vampires make the best firemen. If it weren't for the
awful hazing and ribbing they take from those burly Irishmen, jokes
about their capes, their slicked back faggy hair, etc., they'd be all
over it. Still, maybe that's a good thing -- nobody wants to see Bela
Lenska save a child from a burning building, only to suck him dry.