"Oh dearie my," sighed Samara. "If only my hands weren't so cold. I'll never find a man that can bear my icy touch. Maybe if I send up this balloon with my wish, the deities of death will bring someone who is undead like myself for me to make love to."
Feel free to add to Samara's story.
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In a reverse puff of hydrogen gas, something like the Hindenburg unexploding, an inflatable demon materialized before Samara. As he pressed himself against her and she pressed herself against him, and his eternal arousal pricked against her and her razor sharp piercings pricked against him, a loud orgasmic pop transformed the demon back into nothingness. Samara was back at the drawing board. She drew "You win some,you pin some" in ancient gothic lettering.
That would be just Samara's luck! Some girls give the guy a cold shoulder--she's cold all over!
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