ON THE LAPTOP SCREEN, Lemmy's perfectly circular eyes remain lidless, but Spencer gives them a slight inward angle along the top, a hint of a hateful scowl. A tiny, almost unnoticeable rim of scarlet makes them glow with subliminal mania.

His formerly cute smile twists into a snarl, revealing vampire fangs. His ears are raised, the tufts of fur on top twisted to a point, to suggest vampire bat sonar or maybe devil horns.

Whiskers and fur begin to spike and bristle, and Lemmy develops the faintest slouch, almost the beginnings of a hump-back. Lemmy's already creepy tree-froggy fingers grow nails at the tips, nearly thick and sharp enough to be called claws.

Most people, unless they were told to look twice, wouldn't consciously notice much change in the family restaurant's logo, though they would walk away filled with uneasiness and sick titillation.