I defy you to tell me Wayne Twitchell's 1979 Topps baseball card doesn't frighten you. I'm surprised with fangs like that this bloodsucker even showed up on film.
Clearly a year earlier Twitchell, sensing he was about to be photographed, had the uncanny undead guile to close his mouth when about to be photographed for his baseball card. Wayne Twitchell may be a beloved shop teacher somewhere in America for all I know, or he may have vanished into the endless night to search for victims to satisfy his unholy bloodlust, but for two years of my youth his baseball cards traumatized me. Seeing it now his fangs don't seem to protrude as prominently as they seemed to when i was ten, but that too may only be another one of his demonic phantasms.