Dracula paced the grand hall, his eyes glinting mischievously as Mavis joined him, holding a vintage rotary phone. "Tonight, we shall bring a little chaos to Springfield," Dracula declared with a grin. "This is going to be fun, Dad! What’s the plan?" Mavis asked, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

Dracula pointed to a red circle on the map. "Our targets are the Simpsons. Let's start with the father, Homer. I've heard he loves donuts," he chuckled. "I’ll handle the son, Bart. He's known for his pranks – it'll be a battle of wits!" Mavis added, picking up her script.

Homer lounged on the couch, a donut in hand, when the phone rang, interrupting his moment of bliss. "Hello, is this Mr. Homer Simpson? This is Count Donutcula, and I have a delivery of haunted donuts for you!" Dracula's voice echoed through the line, deep and theatrical. "Haunted donuts? Is this some kind of joke? Wait, do they taste different?" Homer responded, intrigued yet confused.

"Hiya, Bart! It's Mavis from Vampire Snacks Inc. I hear you're in the market for vampire-proof snacks?" Mavis giggled, disguising her voice. "Vampire-proof snacks? Seriously? Who put you up to this?" Bart replied, already plotting his counter-prank.

"I think we've outdone ourselves, Mavis," Dracula said, beaming with pride. "But I wonder if they figured out it was us," Mavis pondered, her smile fading into curiosity.

"So, what do we do about those haunted donuts?" Homer mused, still puzzled. "I say we prank them back," Bart suggested, a mischievous glint in his eye. As the Simpsons plotted their next move, the Hotel Transylvania crew prepared for another night of fun, unaware of the brewing prank war between them.