The Frozen Shadow

Renfield R. Renfield and Amadeus Emanon were at an isolated spot on England's southern coast awaiting the arrival of a dirigible.

"Why a dirigible?" Amadeus asked Renfield.

"Well with all these airports being shut down now and again throughout Europe and in the northeastern United States due to the weather, I couldn't take a chance on a plane," Renfield explained, "that's why I'm having a dirigible flown in from New York City, that way I don't have to worry about airports being closed."

"And what's on this dirigible?" Amadeus inquired.

"A frozen shadow," Renfield replied.

"A frozen shadow?" Amadeus was confused.

"Yes, a shadow that's been frozen," Renfield explained, "I suspect this shadow is a material manifestation of the severed immortal and invisible serpent-dragon head of the demon Rahu mentioned in ancient Hindu scriptures as hanging around during lunar and solar eclipses trying to swallow either the sun or the moon. He manifested himself in the U.S. during last week's total lunar eclipse on the winter solstice. According to Scotland Yard computers I hacked into, I believe he was responsible for 372 murders that were committed throughout the U.S. on that day. A mysterious shadow-like entity was seen in the vicinity of all the murders committed throughout the entire time period when the lunar eclipse was taking place."

"How did it come to be frozen?" Amadeus asked.

"It made the mistake of hanging around the northeastern United States after the winter solstice lunar eclipse," Renfield answered, "I guess not even demons can get enough of New York City's Times Square. But following the severe snow storm of the past couple of days, it ended up being frozen in Central Park. An employee of Set Enterprises in New York City found it while he was out snowshoeing in the Park and alerted me."

"How is it possible for a supernatural entity to have been frozen by this severe snow storm?" Amadeus wanted to know.

"I don't believe this was any ordinary snow storm," Renfield replied, "I believe it was caused by the Frost Giants or Jutuns of Norse mythology. They seem to have come down to Earth again for some reason."

"There seem to be a lot of supernatural creatures mentioned in the various world mythologies who have been coming back to Earth this past year," Amadeus noted.

"Indeed," Renfield agreed, "if this keeps up, the UN may have to start worrying about overpopulation of supernatural entities on this planet."

To be continued.

Dark Shadows of the Moon

An elderly couple were walking the streets of downtown Seattle late at night trying to find a taxi.

As this night had been their wedding anniversary they decided to be late night owls in their favourite restaurant.

11:30 PM. Monday December 20th.

They window shopped through some of the store windows as they walked down the street trying to locate a taxi.

"That statue there in the pawn shop window," the wife remarked to her husband, "it's quite ferocious looking. Who is it supposed to be a statue of?".

"The demon Rahu," the man looked at the name tag below the statue.

Just then a figure emerged out of the darkness of night and slit the old man's throat.

The wife screamed.


* * *

In Chicago in a pedriatics unit of a leading hospital, one of the nurses thought she saw a mysterious shadow moving and approaching the room where the new borns were kept.

She immediately ran down the hall.

And opened the door.

Just in time to see the shadow like figure smashing a baby's head against the wall.

She screamed.


* * *

New York City.

The attractive and extremely beautiful blonde was dressed to the nines in a very tight fitting red mini dress, black silk fishnet nylons and black spiked stiletto heels.

She had been partying the night away in a posh nightclub.

She decided to step into a back alley to vomit as she couldn't find her way to the washroom and the door that said EXIT rather than Women's had led her to this place.

She vomited.

All those shooters and cocktails didn't feel quite as good going up as they had going down.

She thought she heard a noise.

She looked up.

All she saw there was shadow.

A shadow that moved.

A shadow that raised the knife.

A shadow that slit her throat.

If she wasn't already dead, she'd have probably screamed at that point.


* * *

Inspector Depp of Scotland Yard was also a member of Interpol and thus received police reports from all over the world.

He was looking at a baffling FBI report he had just received.

A series of 372 brutal and bizarre murders had been committed in the United States of America in just a 3 and a half hour time period.

An elderly gentleman with his throat slashed in downtown Seattle. A new born babe had his head bashed against the wall in a Chicago hospital pedriatics unit.
A young and beautiful twentysomething socialite had her throat slashed in New York City. And the list went on.

Any witnesses to the crimes reported seeing a mysterious and swift moving shadow.

No real human form.

Just a shadow.

Inside the office with Inspector Depp was Inspector Depp's good friend the Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing.

He had handed the report to Dracul.

Dracul noted the times.

He checked his own watch which was always set to Alberta time- the time of the province of his birth.

"You know," Dracul said, "all these murders were all committed between 11:33 PM Alberta time and 3:01 AM Alberta time the late evening/early morning of December 20th to 21st."

"Is there some significance to that fact?" Inspector Depp asked.

"That was the exact same time frame of the lunar eclipse which this year fell on the Winter Solstice in the northern hemisphere," Dracul replied.

"Hm, that is interesting," Inspector Depp pinched his lip with a couple of his fingers, "anything significant about the number of murders committed? 372?".

"Well," said Dracul, "the last time a lunar eclipse fell on a winter solstice in the northern hemisphere was in the year 1638. Which is exactly 372 years ago."

To be continued.

Nicht and Night At The Kremlin

Russian Prime Minister Vladimir Putin was inside the lab of FSB scientist Dr. Nicht Werhoffen (who had been a research scientist for the East German Stasi secret intelligence service until the Fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989).

Dr. Werhoffen had just developed a new genetically modified virus.

This virus was capable when it was injected into a human of entering the bloodstream and then eventually attacking the human brain literally turning the person so infected into a virtual zombie.

"Imagine that, Mr. Prime Minister," Dr. Werhoffen smiled, "turning Mother Russia's enemies into zombies like the plots of so many bad western horror movies."

"This is indeed a major achievement," Prime Minister Putin had to admit.

"So you'd like me to continue working on this project?" Dr. Werhoffen asked.

"By all means," Prime Minister Putin smiled.

The Prime Minister returned to the Kremlin where he once again practiced the song that was making him a superstar sensation on YouTube, "I found my thrill on Blueberry Hill..."

The phone rang.

"Hello," the Prime Minister picked up the receiver.

"Hello," said a sexy, sensuous and sultry voice.

It was the Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec.

"I'm just phoning to wish you a Merry Christmas," Qonzilqointec's voice dripped like honey over the phone.

"Feliz Navidad," Putin said in his most impeccable Spanish.

Qonzilqointec answered back, "Feliz Navidad. Gracias."

Putin then told Her Imperial Highness about the breakthrough of one of his scientists in developing a virus that had the power to turn people into virtual zombies.

"Imagine that," Putin chuckled, "a virus that can turn people into virtual zombies."

"I always knew they'd find a replacement for television someday," Qonzilqointec answered.

To be continued.

Murder and Mystery At The Museum

Inspector Depp of Scotland Yard looked at the report in front of him.

A bizarre murder had happened on England's northeast coast.

A well known British archaeologist Cornwall Smith had been murdered.

The man's granddaughter had entered the town museum where he had spent a great deal of time and claimed to have found him in pieces at the curator's desk and on the museum floor.

What she meant by pieces apparently was that his head and arms and feet were lying around scattered all over the place.

She left the museum screaming which totally ruined a BBC TV documentary on peace and quiet and tranquility in small town Britain that was being shot in the village at the time.

When she finally managed to track down the town policeman in the local tea and croissant shop- by the time the pair arrived at the museum- the museum was totally engulfed in flames.

A fire department investigation afterwards revealed that the victim''s computer had suddenly fried causing an electrical fire.

The museum and its contents were totally destroyed.

And the remains of Dr. Cornwall Smith were even far too well done for an experienced cannibal like Dr. Hannibal Lector to enjoy.

To be continued.

The Game's Afoot In Archaeology

He was a retired archaeologist who lived on England's north east coast.

Retired?

Did archaeologists ever truly retire?

Archaeologist seemed to be one profession where its practitioners never truly do retire.

In fact, he was the volunteer curator of the small town museum where he lived.

So, no, archaeologists never truly do retire.

And in fact, he was reading an email from an old colleague of his who lived in Israel.

The man had emailed him photos of marble sandals.

They were sandals belonging to the statue of a woman that had been found in Ashkelon, Israel.

The woman had been found without arms and a head.

But the sandals of the woman were intricately carved.

His colleague pointed out, "I know you always had a foot fetish in your own personal life. So I thought maybe you had some archaeological interest in this matter as well."

The retired archaeologist laughed. He walked over to the museum bookshelf where he kept many of his own personal books.

He reached for one, checked the index, came to a page with a drawing of an ancient Roman statue of a woman, and eagerly sat down where he began to excitedly type a reply to the Israeli archaeologist.

The old man did not notice the medieval swords coming off the wall of the museum by themselves.

One of the swords came over and cut off the man's head just as he wrote, "I believe the statue is of..."

The other sword cut off the man's arms.

A medieval axe rose out of one of the glass cases in the museum and came over and cut off the man's feet and dropped them on the large printed copy photo of the marble sandals.

A young woman then entered the museum.

"Grandpa," she called out, "you're being late for dinner again."

She entered the room.

And screamed.

Grandpa wouldn't be having dinner on this night.

Or ever again.

To be continued.

Mr. X and The National Security Council

To the other members of the U.S. National Security Council, he was known only by the interesting epithet Mr. X.

Indeed Mr. X was the name referred to him by the other members of the National Security Council including the President.

For in actuality, Mr. X was really and truly the unknown member of the National Security Council.

The press did not know of his existence.

The public did not know of his existence.

Anyone in government outside the U.S. National Security Council did not know of his existence.

This mysterious Mr. X had served on the National Security Council under every President (both Democrat and Republican) since the Administration of President John F. Kennedy took office in January of 1961.

Every President since Kennedy had been forced to name him to the Security Council.

Only each succeeding new President knew why in a Book of Secrets that was passed to every President after he took office (a Book of Secrets that was alluded to in one of the Nicholas Cage National Treasure films).

Indeed Barack Obama got his first gray hair after taking office when he read in the Book of Secrets why Mr. X must continue on the U.S. National Security Council.

Inside Mr. X's office in Washington D.C. only a few blocks from the White House, Mr. X was reading a news item.

What disturbed him was not so much the news item itself but a communique he had read some months earlier.

The news item dealt with a 1,700 year old marble statue of a woman that had been found after a sudden and fierce storm in the eastern Mediterranean had caused part of a cliff to collapse in the southern Israeli port city of Ashkelon.

This news item would not have disturbed him so much if he hadn't read a top secret communique some months earlier.

The communique dealt with the Voynich Manuscript a rare and unusual manuscript located in the Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library of Yale University.

The book was a mysterious one. Allegedly written in code in an unknown language. Some claimed the 13th Century English Franciscan monk Roger Bacon as its author. The book was said to have been bought by the Holy Roman Emperor Rudolf II in the late 16th Century. The 17th Century Jesuit scholar Athanasius Kircher was asked to decipher it by one of the manuscript's later owners but he apparently couldn't.

Anyways the communique from a few months back made the claim that a scholar had finally cracked the code and claimed the book was prophetic.

Well other so-called scholars had made such claims before.

But in this communique, the proof of his having cracked the code would become apparent in a few months time this scholar had wrote "when in December of this year (2010) a huge storm would hit the eastern Mediterranean and a marble statue of a woman with her head and arms missing would be found as a result of a cliff falling in Ashkelon, Israel."

Mr. X had sent messages to the Directors of the FBI, the CIA and Homeland Security ordering that this man must be found at all costs.

He had also written a message to the head of a covert branch of the CIA asking him to investigate whether Wikileaks founder Julian Assange knew about the existence of this communique.

And if he discovered that he did, then Mr. Assange must be immediately terminated, Mr. X had directed.

And by terminated, Mr. X meant in the same manner as Arnold Schwarzenegger as The Terminator had terminated people.

To be continued.

The Mysterious Statue

Amadeus Emanon sat quietly eating a peanut butter sandwich and reading a small leather bound copy of Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol.

Renfield R. Renfield who was on the computer cast a glance in Amadeus' direction and noticing what he was reading remarked, "I preferred the pre-Christmas Eve Scrooge to the post-Christmas Eve Scrooge. The pre-Christmas Eve Scrooge is more in line with my thinking."

"I'm not surprised," Amadeus reached for a warm mug of cocoa.

"Yes, this is very interesting," Renfield remarked between mouthfuls of tuna fish sandwich.

"What are you doing?" Amadeus asked.

"Well, the boss," Renfield was referring to their employer the multi-billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set, "has a list of statues from antiquity that he has asked me to be on the look out for."

"Why?" Amadeus looked curious.

"Well apparently many statues in the ancient world had spirits attached to them and so the boss is anxious to know if any of these statues should appear again," Renfield replied.

"Saint Paul once mentioned the same thing in one of his Epistles," Amadeus commented, "that's why Christians were forbidden to sacrifice to idols because such statues often had spirits, usually demons, attached to them."

"I don't think the Boss would be too happy if he heard you quoting Saint Paul," Renfield growled.

"Probably not," Amadeus admitted.

"Anyhow this statue that just washed up in the Israeli port city of Ashkelon," Renfield said, "after a massive storm in the eastern Mediterranean hit a couple of days ago- I have a feeling this statue could be one that's on the Boss' list."

"I don't recall hearing about that find," Amadeus sipped his cocoa.

"Yes," Renfield nodded, "the storm caused a cliff to collapse and a statue from Roman times was exposed and subsequently found by a passer-by. It's a white marble statue of a woman believed to be about 1,700 years old and weighs about 440 pounds and stands nearly 4 feet in height. The statue is missing its head and arms apparently which will make identification for our purposes slightly more difficult. But it does have delicately carved sandals which is interesting for our ID purposes as well. Interesting storm that hit the eastern Mediterranean that day. There were winds of more than 100 kilometres an hour which racked up 40 foot waves."

"And this happened in the Israeli city of Ashkelon you say?" Amadeus finished his cocoa.

"Yes, it's where King Herod had built his port of Caesaria," Renfield helped himself to another slice of bread and more tuna fish, "and it also served as the seat of government for Pontius Pilate when he was governor of Judea."

"So this statue," Amadeus was now even more curious, "who do you believe it to be a statue of? And how does it fit in with the Boss' list of statues and their possessing spirits?".

"That, my friend," Renfield smiled like a Cheshire cat as he bit into his tuna fish sandwich, "I'm not going to tell you."

To be continued.

The Piano In The Museum

The Piano In The Museum
A short story
written by Christopher Dracul Van Helsing
Saturday, December 11th, 2010



Tom sat at the admission desk at the front of the Museum.

There weren't too many people visiting the Museum today 2 weeks before Christmas Day.

They would be hoarding through stores and shopping malls picking up gifts for the transient present (gifts that for the most part would probably be forgotten or ignored 6 months down the road into the future) rather than looking at relics from the past.

There had been only 4 visitors to the Museum today.

A mother and her 2 children (a boy and a girl).

The boy when he saw an old Underwood antique typewriter asked his mother, "Here's the keyboard. Where's the computer screen?".

The other visitor had been an elderly gentleman.

The mother and her children had only stayed in the Museum 20 minutes.

"I want to go to McDonald's," whined the boy.

"I want to do some more shopping," said the girl.

As there were 2 females in the party and only 1 male, shopping won out as the next part of action for the day.

The man had arrived 3 hours ago and was still poking around the exhibits of the Museum even as Tom looked at the clock and saw that it was just another 20 minutes until closing time.

Tom shut his eyes for a second and momentarily dozed off.

He awoke to the sound of piano playing.

What the?-

Tom couldn't recall any tune on his ipod that consisted solely of piano playing.

There were generally other instruments as well or at least vocals.

Then Tom realized he wasn't wearing the ear phones that went with his ipod.

The piano playing was coming from a corner of the Museum.

Tom got up and walked over to where the music was being played.

It was the old man sitting at the piano playing the keys with the natural talent of a piano virtuoso.

"Oh, sorry," the old man looked at Tom, "I suppose I shouldn't be touching any of the exhibits."

"That's all right," Tom said, "the curator doesn't work Saturdays. It doesn't bother me none. I didn't know this piano could play myself. I never heard it being played before. I just assumed that it was broken. That's why someone donated it to the Museum I figured."

"She still plays beautifully," the old man looked lovingly down at the keys.

"She does," Tom had to admit having heard the piano being played.

"I once played with a live band," said the old man.

"Really?" Tom was impressed, "would I have heard of them?".

"Very much doubt it," the old man shook his head, "it was a local band the Northern Trailblazers."

"Ah, a local band," Tom nodded, "no you certainly wouldn't make much money as a member of a local band."

"We actually made a fair bit of money locally in my day," the old man smiled, "every dance hall and ball room had its own live orchestra playing at night. Every weekend we would play at a different ballroom in town. We sort of made the circuit of the town as it were. It was during the '70s and '80s that DJs replaced the live orchestra. DJs were a lot cheaper to pay than an entire orchestra. But it just wasn't the same and the dance halls and ball rooms shut down. Discos with their DJs maintained the dancing tradition somewhat but by the mid-80s, they too were gone.
And now it looks like in this decade, the DJ's days are numbered as well. To be replaced by long running CDs with their multitudinous list of tunes."

"Yes, I suppose," said Tom, "these days the only place I hear a live orchestra playing during a dance is at a wedding reception."

"I imagine that's the reason a lot of people try to crash weddings," the old man smiled, "free food and free drink no doubt attracts some but I expect for many wedding crashers, it might be the sheer joy of hearing a live orchestra play while you dance. There is just something so exhilarating about dancing to a live orchestra. Something this century has seemed to have lost."

"Yes, I suppose," Tom said.

The old man looked at his watch, "Ah, 2 minutes to 4. Closing time for the museum in another couple of minutes. I suppose you're anxious to get home."

The old man got up, shook Tom's hand and left.

Tom closed up the Museum.

He met his friends at a nearby lounge for a drink.

There was raucous noise and laughter and much banter.

But as Tom sat there, he thought there was something missing.

This place wasn't a place for quiet conversation that's for sure, Tom thought.

Human interaction was indeed going on but amidst the loud music from the CD over the speakers and the rising cacophony of human voices as the voices tried to drown out the music and vice-versa the music seemingly trying to drown out the voices- everything was seemingly building upwards towards an explosive crescendo but a crescendo without a purpose- unlike a Beethoven symphony.

Tom turned to the table to his right where a quartet of young women were sitting.

One of the women was showing her friend the video on the newest and hottest cell phone of the month.

Tom watched as she pulled up images off the Net.

Then there was something that caught the young woman's attention.

It caught Tom's attention too.

It was a dashing young man and a beautiful young woman dancing.

The video was in black and white.

"Wow, that's neat," said the girl.

"It is," said her friend.

Tom had to admit (although he did not do it aloud) that it was indeed... neat.

Cool even.

At home in the old man's apartment, he was watching the old black and white movie on television that the young woman had picked up on her mobile phone.

It was a movie from the early 1940s that starred the dashing young Fred Astaire and the beautiful young Rita Hayworth.

Fred pranced.

Rita danced.

Like an artist painting a picture on the floor were the footsteps that Fred made.

A swish of exquisite fabric on the dress as Rita swayed.

They were dancing to a live orchestra.

The old man smiled.

He closed his eyes.

And heard the music... the beautiful, beautiful music.

Inside the lounge, Tom was getting a headache.

He closed his eyes.

But he was not hearing the music.

The Museum was now still and quiet. Not a sound was to be heard.

In shopping malls now, there was no silence to be heard.

And above the city and its lights, the stars seemed to dance in the sky- that is if one could see them in the winter fog and mist and collection of exhaust from a never ending line of cars.

The ancients believed in the idea of the Celestial Music of the Spheres- that the stars performed their own music as they moved across the sky.

Whether this was true or not- no one listened for that anymore.

Those who listened to the sounds from the skies were listening for radio signals from somewhere out there to indicate that we are not alone in the universe.

As the old man sat alone in his apartment, he did not feel alone.

As the voice of David Bowie sang that old song "Let's dance" on the lounge CD, Tom was starting to feel alone in the crowd for some reason.

Probably Bowie would have felt alone too if he had been sitting in that lounge for no one seemed to be listening to the words...

... "let's dance...."

The Tourist Starring Johnny Depp and Angelina Jolie

This is not so much a formal review of the movie The Tourist as it is my own personal reflections on this film and its two stars Johnny Depp and Angelina Jolie.

Johnny Depp is my favourite contemporary actor and Angelina Jolie is my favourite contemporary actress.

Those of you who know me know that my ultimate dream is to become a motion picture director like my film making idols Orson Welles and Alfred Hitchcock.

I remember back at the first blogging site I was ever at which was called Journalspace- I wrote a blog back in 2007 on how Johnny Depp and Angelina Jolie had not yet appeared together in the same motion picture.

Needless to say the fact that my favourite contemporary actor and favourite contemporary actress had not appeared together in the same movie by that time I found to be a great perplexing mystery.

I remember at the time saying if I ever did become a motion picture director, I would like to be the first to direct Depp and Jolie together in a film.

Well it didn't happen- I didn't get the chance to direct Depp and Jolie in their first motion picture together.

Whether I'll ever become a motion picture director period- only time will tell.

This past week was the first time I ever read the Wikipedia entry on Johnny Depp and was shocked to discover that his first two names were John Christopher because my first two names are John Christopher although he goes by his first name John (which he lengthened to Johnny) and I go by my second name Christopher (which most people shorten to Chris).

I always felt a closeness and a bond to Johnny Depp for some reason. Not in the sense that we're soul mates (because that isn't where my sexual orientation lies) but in the sense that we're soul brothers for lack of a better word.

There's just something about the man and the characters he plays that I can personally relate to most of the time.

It said in the Wikipedia article that Captain Jack Sparrow is Depp's favourite character and the one he most personally relates to.

Which I found interesting if true because Captain Jack Sparrow is my favourite Depp character and the one Depp character I most relate to as well.

Of course Captain Jack Sparrow is more of a fantasy projection of myself because I've not nor have I ever been a pirate in the Caribbean who's commanded a mysterious ghost ship called the Black Pearl.

It's interesting in Depp's latest film The Tourist that he plays a character more like me in reality. He plays a math professor (although when I taught in a community college, I taught Geopolitics and International Relations rather than math) and someone who comes across as nerdy and geeky- a person who enjoys reading spy novels (which I do as well) and whose real life has so far been nothing like he's read.

He happens to encounter a mysterious beautiful woman (played by Angelina Jolie) on a train and it's then that his life changes.

On a personal aside, I've always wanted to encounter a mysterious beautiful woman on a train as well (or anywhere else for that matter!) and have my life take an exciting turn as well.

Depp's character named Frank cannot figure out why this woman named Elise has chosen to sit down with him and then dine with him on a train.

He's even more baffled when he encounters her in Venice and she invites him to spend the night in her hotel room.

Next morning, he's even more baffled when he wakes up to find her gone and men banging on the door and shooting bullets into it.

This really is an excellent film.

It reminds me of the sort of film Alfred Hitchcock would direct if he was living in the 21st Century.

That old cliche about a movie that keeps you on the edge of your seat- well this movie will do that.

It's full of surprising twists and turns this film- and you are literally wondering what will happen next.

For those people who have seen the trailers to this movie-

I have to say- you know how most movie trailers you watch these days- you can pretty well figure out what's going to happen in a movie just by watching the trailer- you don't really have to go see the movie because the trailer pretty well tells you everything you need to know.

Well with that in mind, after watching the trailer for The Tourist I thought I pretty much knew what was going to happen in this movie just by watching the trailer but I wanted to see this film anyway because after all my two contemporary faves- Depp and Jolie were in it.

Anyways after seeing the film in its entirety, I can say that both the movie and the trailer are true masterpieces of genius.

Because the trailer and the way it's made- really does give you the impression of what this film is going to be about.

The way the scenes are put together in the trailer tell you that's the case.

But when you actually do see the movie, everything you thought you had guessed about its contents is actually blown away I'd say at about roughly 7 minutes into the film.

Everything you thought you'd guess from watching the trailer is wrong and the movie is full of completely surprising twists and turns.

I suppose the danger with the trailer is because a person thinks they can guess what this film is about just by watching the trailer and says, "Now I don't have to pay money to see the whole movie" - if a lot of people do that- there's the danger this film won't make money at the box office- because people will think they have guessed what this film is going to be about just by watching the trailer.

And they'll have missed seeing what I believe is the first truly Hitchcockian style film made in the 21st Century.

This film is a masterpiece in my opinion.

I think Hitchcock would have been proud to direct this film- it's that good.

The scenery- Paris, the train, Venice, the classically elegant hotel room where Depp and Jolie stay- such style, class and elegance I thought had died when the grand old espionage and thriller films of the 1930s, '40s and '50s were no more to be made.

And Angelina Jolie's dresses in the film- wow!- that's why I like watching movies of the '40s in particular because they were the best and sexiest and truly feminine women's fashions that came out in film in that decade.

And Jolie's dresses are like that in this movie- sexy and yet so incredibly lady-like at the same time- putting a lie to this modern notion that you have to dress like a slut in order to appear sexy.

And there's actually a grand ball (and a grand ball in Venice at that!) in the movie which particularly enthralled me. Of course that's one reason why I like Jane Austen novels and films based on Austen's books because there's always a good grand ball and dance somewhere.

And the film is like many of Hitchcock's films in that there is also a classic romance developing amid all the thrills and intrigue and espionage.

I give this film 5 stars out of 5 and two thumbs up.

I thought when I wrote that blog entry on the topic back in 2007 that if you put someone of Depp's charisma and someone of Jolie's charisma together in the same film, you'd come out with a masterpiece.

And this is what has happened with The Tourist.

Renfield The Interrogator

Inspector Depp of Scotland Yard had called in Renfield R. Renfield to do some interrogation work on behalf of the Yard.

Inspector Depp had been told of Renfield's being hired by the CIA a few years ago to interrogate prisoners down at Guantanamo Bay and how impressive he had been.

Down in the lowest cells of the Yard were various anarchist and Marxist youth that police had arrested after the attack on the car carrying Prince Charles and the Duchess of Cornwall.

"If I break these scumbag," Renfield said between mouthfuls of tuna fish sandwich, "does that mean I'll get invited to Prince William's and Kate Middleton's wedding?".

"We'll see what can be arranged," Inspector Depp smiled.

Inspector Depp opened a door and ushered in Renfield.

In the room were a bunch of snarly looking youth in arm and leg chains.

"9000 pounds a year is way too much for university tuition," a youth muttered.

It was the David Cameron government's tripling of university tuition fees that had ostensibly led this medley of youth to become revolting.

Renfield went over to the youth who had spoken, pulled a gun out from under his coat and shot the youth's head off.

"I don't think a mere kindergarden graduate like yourself would have been able to get into University anyways," Renfield said after he kicked the youth's head under a nearby table.

"Now as for the rest of you," Renfield grinned, "there are two things I want you to know... first, I've never been a signatory to the Geneva Convention on Human Rights..."

Renfield went around the room and kicked each of the youths in the balls.

"And second," Renfield continued to grin, "I'm just getting started..."


* * *

As Renfield got into his second hour of interrogation which consisted of finger snipping with pliers and foot amputations with axes and eyeball gougings with scissors, Renfield looked up and noticed Inspector Depp standing at the window with another man.

The man looked vaguely familiar.

Possibly he was a senior Scotland Yard Commissioner who had been invited to look in on the proceedings.

* * *

Inspector Depp took the man with him down to his office.

He opened the door and invited the man to take a seat.

"Now then, Mr. Assange," Inspector Depp addressed the Wikileaks founder, "you can either agree to answer my questions and fully co-operate with me or you can go down to the other room and answer questions posed to you by Mr. Renfield."

To be continued.

The Feast Day of Saint Nicholas

Amadeus Emanon walked through the streets of London.

He happened to notice the little Church named Saint Nicholas.

He recalled watching on the BBC News this morning how today was the Feast Day of Saint Nicholas.

And how Saint Nicholas the Bishop of Myra (in what is now modern-day Turkey) had lived from 270-346 AD.

Because many miracles were performed at his intercession, the saint became known as Nikolaos the Wonderworker.

Amadeus entered the Church and quietly sat at the back and looked around.

He noticed on the right hand side of the Lady Chapel of the Church- a small enclave of votive candles in front of a picture.

He got up and quietly walked towards the picture.

He stood in front of it.

It was an intricately painted icon of Saint Nicholas.

Amadeus knelt before the icon and lit a candle.

He said a silent prayer.

And as he did so, it seemed like a distinct scent of frankincense came from the icon.

He then stood, bowed before the icon and quietly left the Church.

Amadeus noticed the sun had now gone down.

A car pulled up beside him and honked its horn.

It was the Rolls-Royce limousine for the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set.

Renfield rolled down the back window and told Amadeus to get into the car.

Amadeus did so.

In the back seat sat both Renfield R. Renfield and the Vampire Set.

As soon as Amadeus got in, Set shouted, "Great Ra, what is that awful smell?".

Set quickly opened the door and fled the limousine.

"I can't stand it either," Renfield followed the Egyptian vampire out the door.

"Home I guess, James," Amadeus directed the human chauffeur.

"Very good, sir," James continued to drive the car, "are you aware, sir, that you have an air of frankincense about you?".

"No, I wasn't," Amadeus replied in all honesty, "I wonder where I got that from?".

And into the night the limousine drove through the streets of London past many Santa Clauses on street corners.

They didn't look much like the original Saint Nicholas Bishop of Myra.

And then again they didn't carry the smell of frankincense on them either.

To be continued.

Krakens and Dragons and Renfield and Isis

Russian Prime Minister Vladimir Putin looked at the photograph of the strange and gargantuantly huge creature on the desk before him.

"And this..." Putin paused, "this thing was spotted by one of our submarines going through the Baltic Sea?".

"Yes, Mr. Prime Minister," his aide replied.

"It reminds me very much of drawings and paintings I've seen of that famous creature from mythology the Kraken," Putin said.

"Indeed, Mr. Prime Minister," his aide nodded.



* * *

The Israeli plane poured water on the huge forest fire burning out of control near Israel's Mount Carmel.

As the plane veered to the right, the pilot noticed something moving on the ground.

He flew in to take a closer look.

There to his astonishment looked to be creature that resembled pictures he had seen of medieval dragons.

He suddenly noticed the dragon opening up its huge mouth.

And as it did so...

... it breathed fire.

Adding to the already heavily burning fire in the forest near Mount Carmel.


* * *

"So," Amadeus Emanon dipped one of the prawns into the dish of hot salsa sauce, "I was thinking about your speech to the British House of Commons/House of Lords Select Committee on Defense and Intelligence the other day. How long do you think it will be before Super Soldiers are created through the use of genetics, robotics, artificial intelligence and nanotechnology?".

"I believe it's already starting to happen," Renfield said while hacking into various computer systems throughout the world.


* * *

The creature in the hotel room noticed the figure on the bed.

It approached...

... and as it was about to make its lunge...

... the figure on the bed drew out a pistol from under the blanket and fired a silver bullet.

The creature whimpered.

And then died.

And then the wolf turned into a man.

A man wearing an old Nazi SS uniform.

"So," a woman in a red dress flew in through the window, "I didn't think a Nazi werewolf stood a chance against the great Dracul Van Helsing. So I didn't intervene to stop him."

"How are things going, my fair Isis?" Dracul Van Helsing asked the strikingly beautiful Egyptian vampiress.

"I need something from my brother and brother-in-law Set," Isis answered, "and I was wondering if you could get it for me."

To be continued.

Celebrating Reason

The Harvard philosophy professor visiting New York City reflected on the controversial billboard that he had seen saying "You KNOW it's a Myth. This season, celebrate REASON."

The Harvard philosopher recalled how an earlier generation of atheists once celebrated Reason.

Back on November 10th 1793 in Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris, France during the French Revolutionary Reign of Terror, a group of French atheistic revolutionaries had held a Fete de la Raison (Festival of Reason) in which a French prostitute was dressed up as the Goddess of Reason and lay on the High Altar in the Cathedral.

He wouldn't mind celebrating Reason in such a fashion with a prostitute on the High Altar of Saint Patrick's Cathedral in New York City.

That is if he could find a prostitute that would be truly worth banging.

One who was a total knock out.

It was then that he saw the super sexy and incredibly beautiful redhead standing there in the white sweater, short black leather micro mini skirt, black silk fishnet nylon stockings and spiked stiletto black leather boots.

The woman seemed to glow like a neon light in the falling snow of New York City.

"How much?" the Harvard philosopher asked as he approached her.

"What did you have in mind?" she asked in a sultry voice.

He told her.

She laughed, "Well, why not a little re-enactment of French history?".

She took a cell phone out from under her belt.

"I have to call my..." she didn't finish the sentence.

"Pimp?" the Harvard philosopher interrupted.

She laughed, "That's a good name for him."

She read the reply that said, "Go 4 it."

They walked into Saint Patrick's Cathedral and the Harvard professor acting like a Christopher Hitchens on steroids knocked the crucifix and the candle stands off the altar.

He threw the short skirted redhead on top of the altar and after shouting, "In the Name of Reason, Amen" tore off her skirt and ripped through her pantyhose and then penetrated her...

Within seconds, he was screaming as the intricately designed mousetrap in her vagina closed tightly on his penis.


* * *

"This is startling imagery coming off the Cyborg Sophia's camera," Amadeus Emanon said with his usual tone of classic understatement as he looked at the computer screen.

Renfield R. Renfield was laughing his head off.

"But I thought the intended victim was to be a leading New York politician," Amadeus looked quizzical.

"It was," Renfield continued to laugh, "but when Sophia text messaged me what this guy had in mind- banging her on the High Altar of Saint Patrick's Cathedral- me with my great sense of fun gave the go ahead. I thought the testing of my new mousetrap on the High Altar of Saint Patrick's just gave a certain ambience to everything."

"Who was this poor snook?" Amadeus asked.

"I believe some atheistic professor of philosophy at Harvard," Renfield answered.

"But you're an atheist yourself," Amadeus pointed out.

"But I'm also an artist and entertainer seeking to push new boundaries," Renfield continued to roar with laughter.


* * *

"To boldly go where no man has gone before," the voice of Captain James T. Kirk intoned on the TV set belonging to the patient in the hospital room next to the Harvard philosophy professor.

"Sometimes that's not always a good thing," the professor groaned in a very high-pitched whisper.

To be continued.

Of Qonzilqointec and Super Soldiers

The Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec was attending a cocktail party in New York City in an exclusive Fifth Avenue penthouse.

She wore a green velvety evening dress and a diamond necklace.

She briefly glanced at her cell phone where she had received a text message from Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez.

She typed the words DO IT NOW in reply.

She glanced across the room and noticed the former Apollo astronaut who seemed to be the center of attention in a little group of admirers gathered around him.

They seemed to hover on his every word as he described what it was like to walk on the Moon and to view Planet Earth from the Moon.

He was then asked whether he had ever seen any aliens while he was up there.

Princess Qonzilqointec walked half-way across the room in his direction and then just stood there looking at him.

The former Apollo astronaut gazed in her direction and then without stopping to answer the question about aliens walked over to her.

They went off together to a quiet little corner of the penthouse where they talked together in very hushed tones.


* * *

Meanwhile in a quiet room on the upper floors of the Westminster Parliament in the shadow of Big Ben, a powerful but little known Parliamentary Committee was meeting.

The committee was a joint House of Commons/House of Lords Select Committee on Intelligence and Defense.

Addressing the committee was none other than Renfield R. Renfield the Chief of Security and Intelligence and Espionage for the multi-billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set.

"So," Renfield continued his briefing, "we need to understand that DARPA (Defense Advanced Research Project Agency) in the United States of America and similar organizations throughout other industrialized nations are beginning a new arms race- the race to create the Super Soldier. This Super Soldier will be a "Human 2.0" to express it in terms of modern computer speak. What is referred to in Research and Development circles as GRIN (Genetics, Robotics, (artificial) Intelligence and Nano-Technology) will be used to create the perfect super human.
This Super Human soldier army of the future will have the following characteristics- hive mentality, superhuman strength, unbelievable agility and unsurpassed accelerated healing abilities."

"Good God," said Lord Tweedsmuir the House of Lords co-chairman of the committee, "this sounds like James Cameron's sci-fi TV series Dark Angel has come to pass."

Renfield nodded, "James Cameron is indeed a prophet. And those nations that do not get aboard the GRIN bandwagon to create a Super Soldier will find themselves going down like the Titanic."

"And," added Amadeus Emanon who had been brought along to serve as Renfield's secretary, "if one of these super soldiers with accelerated healing abilities gets shot, he'll be able to sing along with Celine Dion... My heart will go on and on..."

To be continued.

Curiouser and Curiouser The World Turns

"So," Renfield looked at the newspaper with its latest Wikileaks revelations, "U.S. Secretary of State Hillary Clinton wants biometric data, DNA samples and iris eyeball prints of various important political, diplomatic, business and religious leaders throughout the world. This must mean the U.S. government is in the genetic cloning business since I too search for those things to create new entities in the lab at Set Enterprises."

"I think most of the major powers in the world are secretly into genetic research and cloning aren't they?" Amadeus asked.

"Yes, I believe they are," Renfield nodded.

"The research that created you originated in North Korea didn't it as a result of experiments in Pyongyang in the late '90s to clone and create a flesh eating super hamster?" Amadeus asked.

"How did you find out about the secret research that led to my creation?" Renfield turned as pale as a white hamster and started to suddenly spout hamster whiskers he was so agitated.


* * *

In the cab in Beijing, China sat a man with a very unusual appearance.

He had snakes for arms and the head of a crocodile in place of what should have been a human head given the human appearance of the rest of his body.

He noticed the figure leaving the hotel.

The figure leaving the hotel was a high level North Korean Foreign Ministry official come to Beijing for talks to diffuse the recent crisis occurring on the Korean Peninsula.

The unusual man in the cab opened his door and one of the cobra snake arms emerged and bit the North Korean official on the neck.

He fell to the ground dead.

The man with snake arms then had a Hell of a time trying to text message his boss that the North Korean official was dead.

When he was finally able to do so, he received a reply from his boss, "Let World War III begin."


* * *

The Israeli Mossad agent looked with disbelief at the extremely high-ranking Iranian government leader who lit a candle to Kali the Hindu goddess of destruction at the Temple to Kali called Dakshineswar in Calcutta, India.

What was a member of the extremely fundamentalist Shia Muslim sect known as the Twelvers (the same sect to which Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad belonged) doing lighting a candle to Kali the goddess of destruction?

As the Iranian leader walked through one of the less crowded enclaves of the Temple, the Israeli Mossad agent did not muse on the matter long.

He pulled out his gun and shot the Iranian leader in the back of the head.

The man fell to the ground dead.

The Mossad agent then left the Temple.

Unbeknownst to the Mossad agent, his assassination of the Iranian leader had been captured by a powerful minature camera on a cell phone.

And had already been sent to the offices of the Iranian Foreign Ministry in Tehran.


* * *


In Rome, a newly created Cardinal (who had just been named at the Pope's most recent Consistory on November 20th 2010) had fallen asleep at his work desk.

A sudden wind blew open the windows of his office.

The cardinal stirred and briefly looked up.

He noticed the window was open but felt too tired to get up to close it.

He then thought he heard a flapping of wings.

Startled he looked up.

A beautiful woman stood there in a white dress.

And out of her back there protruded two large black bat wings.

The woman looked to be Greek.

The woman smiled at him showing large vampiric incisors.

To be continued.

Kitsune

The sentry stood at the northeast corner of the Presidential Palace in Pyongyang, North Korea.

He stood gazing in the same northeasterly direction and was somewhat mystified to see a white fox approaching from that direction.

Paid very little on his guard's salary and feeling famished by the ever constant famine that seemed to be present for some reason in the North Korean Workers' Paradise, the guard resolved to shoot the fox and take it home to his family for supper when he got off guard duty.

But as the sentry raised his gun, he froze.

Literally froze.

He could not move.

The white fox walked past him.

As it did so, the sentry was shocked to discover that the white fox had nine tails.


* * *

Kim Jong-un the designated heir to North Korean dictator Kim Jong-il was asleep in bed.

He thought he heard a roar of thunder and a distant flash of lightning- very unusual in North Korea in the winter.

He opened his eyes.

Standing there in his bedroom was a very very very beautiful woman wearing a translucent almost glowing white dress.

The woman did not look Korean.

She looked Japanese.

Was this an enemy agent who had succeeded in infiltrating his bedroom?

"Who are you?" he demanded to know.

"Kitsune," the woman replied.

Kitsune- the word- the name sounded Japanese to him.

"How did you get in here..." Kim asked but before he could finish his sentence, the woman was on top of him with a strength that was almost supernatural in its power.

When it was all over, Kim felt completely drained of what Austin Powers International Man of Mystery would have referred to as his mojo.

He also felt strangely elated for some reason.

Not to mention a sudden craving for tofu.

He picked up the phone near his bed and asked for a bowl to be delivered to his room.

He lay there gazing up at the ceiling with a blank look in his eyes.

Over and over he chanted the same words in an almost mantra like state, "I must start World War III... I must start World War III..."

To be continued.

North Korean Attack and The Rumblings of Powers and Principalities

The Trappist monk Brother Jim Gallant and his Saint Bernard dog Samson met Dracul Van Helsing in a Parisienne sidewalk cafe.

Crazy Pierre's was one of the few Parisienne sidewalk cafes that was open as an outdoor sidewalk cafe in Paris in late November.

"So," Brother Jim whimpered slightly as he froze his nuts off in his monk's robes , "Hyung isn't with you in Paris?".

"No," Dracul shook his head, "she flew home to South Korea as soon as she heard today's news that North Korea had attacked South Korea's Yeonpyeong Island killing 2 soldiers, destroying civilian homes and wounding both civilians and soldiers."

"An extremely dangerous situation," Brother Jim remarked as he sipped his hot chocolate.

"Very dangerous," Dracul agreed.



* * *

Kim Jong-un (the designated heir to North Korean dictator Kim Jong-il) was holding a meeting with the famous South African witch doctor Sterling Makabo.

"So," Kim Jong-un asked, "My one million man zombie army that you have raised from the dead is now ready?".

"Yes, Your Excellency," Sterling Makabo nodded.

"Good," Kim smiled, "if the glorious People's Democratic Republic of Korea is forced to get into a war with the U.S., Japan and the imposter government that oversees the southern half of my peninsula, I'll have an army that is already dead but still able to fight."

"That is correct," Sterling Makabo smiled as he ate the delicious pork dish that lay in front of him.

"I heard reports that you raised the artist Vincent Van Gogh temporarily from the dead last week," Kim helped himself to a steaming dish of vegetables.

"Yes," Makabo ate a pig's foot, "I got the zombie Vincent to cut off his other ear and then I mailed it to Charles Prince of Wales."

"For what purpose?" Kim asked.

"His Highness never paid me for bringing back his banana tree from the dead," Sterling answered.


* * *


Amadeus Emanon was having dinner with the vampiress songstress Angelique Dumont (who hailed from New Orleans, Louisiana) in a posh London restaurant.

"Nice to see the annoying Renfield isn't with us this evening," Angelique smiled as she smoothed her dress.

"No, he's currently in America teaching seminars to TSA airport security guards on the proper way to pat down and grope airline passengers who are getting ready for the Thanksgiving long weekend," Amadeus replied.

"Renfield is?" Angelique blinked, "And what is he using for teaching aids as he gives these seminars?".

"Every hard-core porno movie that he can find," Amadeus replied.


* * *


It was an exclusive bank in Geneva, Switzerland that kept evening hours for its rich clients.

The billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set was there making a withdrawal from his personal safety deposit box.

Behind him he heard a swishing and a rustling of skirts.

He turned and there was the vampiress who was both his sister and his sister-in-law-
Isis.

"So getting out some safety assets I see?" Isis looked at him.

Set decided to say nothing but turned again to the bank clerk.

Isis looked at him with an amused expression and decided to test him, "So I suppose that means you too know what is really happening in Korea?".

Set paused, turn around, and looked at her in shock, "You know what's really going on?".

"What's going on is setting the stage for the return of our brother and my beloved husband, Osiris," Isis smiled at him.

* * *

To be continued.

Renfield R. Renfield As Royal Wedding Guest?

"Who are you calling?" Amadeus Emanon asked as he noticed Renfield yacking on the phone.

"Buckingham Palace," Renfield replied, "I'm trying to see if I can get an invitation to Prince William and Kate Middleton's wedding next year."

"Oh," Amadeus bit into an apple.

"Am I a friend of Prince William?" Renfield repeated the question of the person on the line, "Yes, I am. Where did I first meet His Highness? Well, he was standing outside a London pub and as I sped by in a sports car I had just stolen, I splashed His Highness with a great deal of mud from a huge puddle that was in front of the pub as I sped through in the stolen sports car. His Highness will probably remember that incident very well."

Sound of a click on the other end.

"Hello? Hello?" Renfield still spoke into the receiver, "Is there anyone there?".


* * *

"Isn't there anyone on the air?" the voice of Orson Welles from his famous 1938 The War of the Worlds radio broadcast spoke, "isn't there anyone on the air?".

"Turn the radio off, Charlie," Camilla spoke to the Prince of Wales, "listening to the deep baritone voice of Orson Welles is sending me off into orgasms I can't possibly handle at the moment."

"I know," Prince Charles grinned, "it's not everyday that one's boy gets engaged."

"Kate will soon realize what a royal pain in the ass the British press are," Camilla mused.

"Almost as big a royal pain in the ass as attending an all-boys' British public school," Prince Charles recalled an impromptu off-stage performance of Oscar Wilde Meets Lord Alfred Douglas in a broom closet at the school from his own school days.

"Don't be a bore, Charlie," Camilla sighed.

"Funny, that's exactly what the head of my house at the school said to me," the Prince of Wales poured himself a glass of fruit juice.

"What's that package on the dresser?" Camilla asked,

"I'm not sure," Prince Charles replied, "it looks like someone sent me a gift."

"Kind of unusual to send the father of the groom a gift isn't it?" Camilla asked.

"Why, yes," Prince Charles went over to the package and opened it.

The Prince of Wales then stood back in horror and exclaimed "Good Lord."

Camilla looked in the direction of the package and screamed.

For inside the opened package was a severed human ear.


* * *

"Prince Charles can no doubt expect an earful at the next family dinner he attends over controversial remarks he gave in a speech today on the importance of talking to plants to help them grow," the CNN News Announcer intoned, "in fact in California a pot grower who has become so enthused by Prince Charles' previous talks and writings on the subject has put the Prince of Wales' ideas into practice where his marijuana plants in his back yard grew an astounding 20 feet tall where it turned out they were easily visible from the nearest police station. After a raid where the man was arrested, he could be heard lamenting the failure of a Yes vote in California's recent pot referendum as he was lead away in handcuffs.
In Sacramento, California Governor-Elect Jerry Brown was asked whether the 20 foot high marijuana plants could replace the Redwood tree as a symbol for California..."

"Oh, God," Hyung exclaimed.

Dracul Van Helsing was licking whipped cream and strawberries off her breasts.


To be continued.

A Gift From Comrade Kim

In Tehran, the Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad received a phone call from Kim Jong-un the designated heir to North Korea's dictator Kim Jong-il.

"Thank you, Comrade Kim," Ahmadinejad smiled.

He then turned to his aide and spoke, "Comrade Kim has given me a gift. And with this gift I shall liberate al-Quds. And I shall finish the job Hitler should have finished. Most of the Jews will be dead by the time I finish using Comrade Kim's gift."

"Finish the job Hitler should have finished?" his aide blinked, "But I thought you always said there was no Holocaust. That six million Jews didn't really die."

"That was just for public consumption, you moron," Ahmadinejad spat at his aide, "Hitler was a great man. But not as great as I am."


* * *

"Megalomaniacs," CNN's Anderson Cooper looked at the camera, "what makes them tick? On the next 360."

"Enough current affairs for the day," vampire huntress Hyung Grace Kwan grabbed the remote and shut it off.

"Are you opposed to all current affairs?" Dracul asked as he poured a glass of champagne.

"Distant current affairs can go away," Hyung took the glass of champagne, "Intimate and very close current affairs may commence."

Hyung sipped the champagne, put a strawberry in her mouth and then brushed against Dracul Van Helsing's lips.


* * *

Renfield R. Renfield was sitting at his computer eating a tuna fish sandwich which was his favourite sandwich.

"Using my superior computer hacking skills, I just discovered something," Renfield grinned in Amadeus Emanon's direction.

"Really?" Amadeus looked up from his copy of The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, "what did you discover?".

"Just a minute, my Persian is a little rusty," Renfield reached for his English-Persian Dictionary.

"But the maid vacuums the carpet everyday," Amadeus stated.

When Renfield gave Amadeus an angry glare, Amadeus then understood.

He looked at the back of his copy of The Rubaiyat and spoke, "It's too bad Edward FitzGerald wasn't alive today to translate for you."

"Ummm," Renfield ignored Amadeus, "That's interesting. That would be quite the major calamity and loss of life should this go ahead. Should I warn the intended target? Nah, there's nothing in it for me to warn them so I won't."

"Warn who about what?" Amadeus was curious.

"Nothing," Renfield finished the last of his tuna fish sandwich.

He then looked at the can of tuna fish on his desk and also the slices of bread.

While looking at the bread, Renfield bit his thumb, "This type of rye bread that's my favourite. I love it with my tuna fish sandwiches. Where is it made again?".

"Jerusalem," Amadeus Emanon replied.

"Did you say Jerusalem?" Renfield looked over at Amadeus.

"Yes," Amadeus nodded.

"Oh," Renfield looked downtrodden.

He then picked up the phone and called the headquarters of the Israeli Mossad where he relayed certain information.

"It turned out there was something in it for me to warn them after all," Renfield reached for another slice of rye bread.

To be continued.

An Autumn Most Miserable

Trees bare and stark
leaves on the ground
but no snow around.

The snowy white covers up the look of death
giving a frosty beauty to the look of November.

But no snow white this year
only stark trees and decaying leaves.

There are no gray skies yet.
The sun still shines
but the air is cold
and the wind chills the bone.

The feel of winter is everywhere
but not the snow.

This false season that's come to this place
in this year of 2010
the days brim with bright sunshine
but the cold chills
and chills
in the frosty air
that shows no appearance of frost.

Metaphorical of this entire year for me
confronted with the cold reality of death
and from family and people I thought were friends
an icy chill
the cold breath of hatred directed towards me.

The one from whom I felt such warm love is gone
and in what they call IRL
away from the computer and cyberspace
the streets of the city where I live
are littered with clones of Narnia's White Witch and Frost Queen
disguised as summer nymphs devoid of warmth.

An Autumn Most Miserable
A poem written by Christopher Dracul Van Helsing
Thursday, November 11th 2010.

The Cyborg Sophia In Berlin

November 9th, 2010.

The 21st Anniversary of the coming down of the Berlin Wall.

There were some celebrations going on.

Not as many as last year which marked the 20th Anniversary of the Fall of the Berlin Wall and the end of the Cold War.

But then Sophia wasn't around last year.

At least not as a cyborg anyway- part human and part robot.

She had no memory of her life prior to her coming alive in a Moscow lab earlier this fall.

And now she was forced to work for Renfield R. Renfield- the Chief of Security and Intelligence and Espionage For Set Enterprises.

Renfield wasn't with her tonight in Berlin.

He was recovering in a London hospital from a mishap involving a firewalking experiment gone horribly wrong during a motivational seminar he was leading.

But as Sophia stood there in her white dress and black leather boots and fur coat, she was glad Renfield wasn't here.

She found him to be a pain in the ass.

She wouldn't have minded if Amadeus Emanon had been here.

But Amadeus was performing Chopin on the piano tonight in a special concert at Saint Martin's In The Fields Church in London.

So Sophia was here by herself.

Sent here to seduce someone on Renfield's orders.

She looked.

There was former Soviet President Mikhail Gorbachev quietly eating a Bavarian sausage and sauerkraut that he had purchased from a Berlin street vendor.

But it wasn't Gorbachev that Sophia had been sent here to seduce.

She looked in the other direction.

It was Sir Elton John.

The British singer was here this day recalling a music video he had shot about the Berlin Wall and the Cold War some 25 years earlier.

Why Renfield wanted her to seduce Sir Elton John she did not know.

She approached the British singer.

She lifted up her dress and gave the singer a good shot of her lovely pantyhosed leg.

In hospital in London, Renfield received a text message from Sophia.

The message said, Apparently every November 9th, Sir Elton John doesn't swing in the direction of our team. He chooses to engage in a homosexual liason with some guy who dresses up as the late Kaiser Wilhelm II of Germany who apparently abdicated the German Imperial Throne back on November 9th 1918.

Bloody Hell.

Why hadn't he known that?

Bloody Hell again.

Why had Sophia sent him such a long text message with no abbreviations? Under the terms of his lousy particular mobile phone contract, he'd be paying a fortune in user fees over such a long message.

To be continued.

Renfield R. Renfield Motivational Speaker

Renfield R. Renfield was leading a motivational seminar.

Edmund Van Helsing, Dracul Van Helsing's cousin was paying a visit to the seminar incognito to see what the Chief of Security and Intelligence for the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set was up to.

Edmund noticed that Amadeus Emanon was standing in the background and knowing what a talkative sort Amadeus was decided to stand next to him.

"So," Edmund said addressing Amadeus, "Renfield is putting on a motivational seminar. What inspired him to do this?".

"He was reading a blog recently about some sucker attending a Tony Robbins seminar and saying what a wonderful experience it is," Amadeus replied, "and Renfield said, don't they know that Robbins is a master hypnotist and that's how he's able to get people to walk across live coals?".

"Robbins is definitely a master hypnotist," Edmund agreed, "some think he's demonically possessed as well."

"I've met a few people who think Renfield is demonically possessed," Amadeus nodded.

On the stage, Renfield seemed to be foaming and frothing at the mouth over something or other.

A widow who was depressed over her husband's recent death approached Renfield to ask him to walk her through her grief and depression.

"Your husband's dead and not coming back," Renfield barked at her, "so get over it."

After pushing the old lady back in her seat, Renfield shouted at the audience,

"Now I AM the voice,
I will lead, not follow
I will believe, not doubt
I will create, not destroy
I AM a force for good
I AM a leader. "

"I AM," Edmund noted, "the name by which God called Himself when He spoke to Moses from the burning bush."

"The same name Jesus once called Himself," Amadeus said, "when He spoke to some of the Temple priests and the Pharisees and said, "Before Abraham was, I AM." That's why they wanted to stone Him on the spot for blasphemy since only God could claim to be I AM."

"So Renfield is claiming to be God," Edmund said.

Soon members of the audience started shouting like mindless zombies in a chantlike mantra following their leader, "I AM the voice... I will lead not follow". They followed Renfield zombielike in shouting back every line he shouted.

"They say in the New Age, everyone is a god," Amadeus remarked. "although Renfield is like the new pig masters in George Orwell's Animal Farm who said, "All animals are equal but some are more equal than others." Every one and every thing is indeed a god in this new dawning of the Age of Aquarius but Renfield fancies himself more god than others."


"I imagine that will be the opinion the Antichrist will hold of himself when he indeed arises, that everything and everyone in the universe is indeed god but he is more god than others," Edmund said.


After working the audience up into a state of ecstasy and blind frenzy which reminded Edmund of the effect Hitler had on his audiences at the Nuremburg rallies, Renfield then started having members of his audience walk across beds of hot coals.

"I wonder if Renfield is indeed demonically possessed," Edmund had brought himself a vial of Holy Water with him.

He walked up to Renfield and threw the Holy Water directly in his face.

Renfield was soon lying on the ground screaming in agony as if someone had thrown acid in his face.

The audience figuring this was now what they were supposed to be doing likewise went back on their backs and started screaming- those who landed on their backs on the hot coals seemed to be screaming more loudly than the others.

To be continued.

Qonzilqointec: Close Encounters of the Vampiress Kind

The boy was about 10 years old.

He walked across the school field from the school to his home.

But it wasn't day.

It was night.

Although the boy did attend classes at the school during the day, this night from 7:30 to 9:30 PM there was an extramural Chess Club for Chess enthusiasts that ran.

So the boy attended the Chess Club.

He held his Chess set tightly in hand as he walked across the school field.

He was half way home.

It was then that he saw the bright light.

It hovered above him- this silver disk.

The boy froze.

Or at least he thought he froze.

For he couldn't move.

Then the disk seemed to open.

And a white staircase emerged from the disk.

Down the staircase walked the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life.

She wore a long red evening dress with black frills around her waist and elbows. He caught a glimpse of shimmering black silk pantyhose and noticed she wore vigourously polished and sparkling shiny red spiked stiletto high-heeled shoes.

Then she smiled at him.

Her teeth were glistening snowy icy white and she had huge incisors in her mouth like he recalled seeing on those vampiresses in those old British Hammer Studios horror movies with Christopher Lee and Peter Cushing that he loved so well.

The top of her dress was extremely low cut and she showed ample breasts and bosom and cleavage as did those vampiresses in those old British Hammer Studios horror movies with Christopher Lee and Peter Cushing- one of the reasons he loved those movies so well.

She picked the boy up and carried him up the staircase.

Then she took the boy's clothes off and bathed him in the most antiseptic looking bathtub he had ever seen in his life.

Then she towelled him dry.

Then she took the boy to a couch underneath a huge spotlight.

She sat down on the couch, took the boy over her knee and then spanked him hard and vigourously for what seemed hours.

* * *

The boy woke up.

He was in bed.

It must have been a dream.

He looked out the window and noticed a bright light leaving his back yard.

As the bright light flew farther away, it gave the appearance of being a silver disk- much like those old UFO flying saucers he recalled seeing in old 1950s sci-fi movies he'd watch on Saturday afternoon cinemas on TV.

He also felt an extremely warm and burning hot (although extremely pleasant for some reason) sensation on his back side.

* * *

Dracul Van Helsing stood on the top floor of the observatory and gazed through the telescope.

His acquaintance and friend the Jesuit astronomer Father Jose Santeiros asked him, "Do you see what I see?".

The way the Jesuit astronomer worded the question reminded him of the lyrics from that old Christmas children's carol The Little Drummer Boy, "Do you see what I see?".

"Yes, you've found an ET, Father Jose," Dracul nodded, "a real live ET on Saturn's moon Titan."

"It's a strange looking creature," Father Santeiros remarked.

"A feathered serpent," Dracul replied, "a snake with wings."

"Indeed, that's what it looks like," Father Santeiros nodded.

"It's the Aztec feathered serpent god Quetzalcoatl," Dracul answered, "I was there when the Egyptian vampiress Isis and the Greek vampiress Athena cast a magical spell sending it back to Saturn's moon Titan."

"What?" Father Santeiros looked incredulous.

"Yes," Dracul nodded, "the Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec had ripped out my still beating heart on top of an Mexican Aztec pyramid in a human sacrifice to bring him back to Earth from Titan where he had been apparently exiled back in December, 1531. She succeeded in bringing the old snake back but Isis and Athena arrived, put my heart back in place and then sent Quetzalcoatl back to Titan."

"Why would Isis and Athena want Quetzalcoatl back on Titan?" Father Santeiros asked.

"Isis doesn't want any competition from any other gods when her husband/lover/brother Osiris returns to Earth in 2012," Dracul smiled, "ditto for Athena whose father Zeus has emerged again in the world in this year of 2010.".

"He has?" Father Santeiros didn't know whether to believe Dracul or not, "but won't Zeus and Osiris fight one another for control of the earth?".

"Oh, probably," Dracul ate an apple, "but at least they won't have another rival to contend with. Although Quetzalcoatl is supposed to return in the year 2012 as well according to some. Which would make it a 3 deity contest for control of the Earth anyway."


* * *

Dracul Van Helsing walked back to his car from the observatory.

It was then that he noticed the bright light in the sky.

The bright light became a silver disk.

And from the disk a white stairway.

Down the stairway emerged the Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec dressed in a low cut red evening dress with black frills around the waist and elbows, black silk pantyhose and red spiked stiletto high-heeled shoes.

"Dracul Van Helsing," Princess Qonzilqointec smiled with her sparkling white teeth and vampiric incisors.

"Your Highness," Dracul bowed.

"So that priest has spotted my spiritual godfather Quetzalcoatl through his telescope," Qonzilqointec said, "is he now going to tell the world?."

"Not yet," Dracul replied.

"Good," Qonzilqointec smiled, "so I won't have to kill him."

"Like you did me atop that pyramid 5 years ago," Dracul noted.

"I held your heart in my hands," Qonzilqointec stepped towards him, "and then Isis and Athena came along and ruined everything."

"For my sake, I'm glad they did," Dracul smiled.

"I suppose you remember that first meeting of ours," Qonzilqointec laughed, "where I ripped out your still beating heart with my high priestess black obsidian knife and held it in my hands."

"That wasn't our first meeting," Dracul said.

"What do you mean that wasn't our first meeting?" Qonzilqointec sputtered, "when had we met before then?".

"Don't you remember?" Dracul smiled, "I was a boy about 10 years old and walking back across the school field from my Chess Club meeting and you came down in your Tesla prototype flying saucer which I see you still have and picked me up?".

"You remember that?" Qonzilqointec gasped.

"LIke it was yesterday," Dracul answered.

* * *

To be continued.

The above is the 1st chapter of the 2nd book of my Vampire Hunter trilogy.

Jack O' Hare On Halloween

Jack O' Hare On Halloween

Jack O' Hare on Halloween
found on the ground a jelly bean
dropped by a goblin small
or a green giant tall.

Lots of strange creatures on this night!
Some enough to give you a fright!
Going from door to door
but it seemed to be no chore
to these little ones shouting "Trick or treat!".
Jack thought it quite neat.

Then after 9 the little ones went home
and after throwing the dog a bone
proceeded to eat their treat
and bobbed for apples with their feet.

But outside in the night so dark
was heard the cry of a lark
what omen was this
putting an end to bliss.

Childish games had now come to an end
Jack O' Hare wished for a friend
a wolfish howl
a screaching owl
zombies prowl.

Real vampires now roamed the earth
Hecate's hags were giving birth
and in the darkened sky a light
held by Zeus who looked a fright
this Greek god held dark countenance
as he rumbled world's continents.

Outside the celestial door
stood the Norse god Thor
He looked at Zeus
and Zeus at him
this Norse god that worked the gym.

Thor's hammers hit the Earth's poles
while Zeus shook the grassy knolls
these gods of old
had risen bold.

Modern children's tales made them seem nice
but now to Earth what havoc hair gets from lice
these old gods will now do to the world
and wreak havoc hitherto unfurled.

Zeus his lust and Thor his brawn
while Pan rises from a spring in Lebanon
and plays on his pan pipes a haunting tune
harking an apocalypse soon.

Moloch's furnaces rise again
grinning bull face so insane
fire falls instead of rain.

Many had shouted in this age
with all manner of sporadic rage
that Jesus Christ would have to go
and if He has,
then why all this current woe?

Nietzsche had written, "It's Christ vs. Dionysus
Don't you understand?".
Indeed grinned the 3-piece demon band.
Dionysus was their leader
Hades the bottom feeder
followed by a serpent seeder.

Jack O' Hare liked not what he saw
as he watched and licked his paw
then he turned and hopped away
wanting this All Hallow's Eve
to turn to All Saints' Day.


Jack O' Hare On Halloween
-a poem written by Christopher Dracul Van Helsing
Sunday, October 31st 2010

The Bunny Hare Picture Show Doing The Time Warp Again

So today I saw Jack O' Hare the wild hare jack rabbit who lives in the neighbourhood and occasionally visits my back yard.

I haven't seen him in several weeks.

I noticed he's now turned completely white to match the snowfall that fell here a couple of days ago.

So in honour of seeing Jack O' Hare and since they're performing excerpts from The Rocky Horror Picture Show on Glee tonight, here's Jack O' Hare singing his version of The Time Warp entitled The Bunny Hop.

The Bunny Hop (to the tune of The Time Warp from The Rocky Horror Picture Show)

It's astounding, my ears are big
Listening takes its toll,
But listen closely, I'm gonna hop around
and lose all control.

I remember doing the bunny hop
Eating those carrots when
The diarrhea would hit me and the fan would be calling...
Let's do the Bunny Hop again...
Let's do the Bunny Hop again...

It's just a hop to the left
and then a hop to the right
With your ears sticking up
You hold your whiskers tight
But it's landing your little tail that gives you pain
Let's do the Bunny Hop again.

It's so creamy, broccoli feed me
in winter can you see me, no not at all
in another dimension, my vegetarian intention
turns to carnivore free fall
and when your beef patties flop
I'm doing the Bunny Hop
and nothing can ever be the same
I'll eat your Big Mac sensation while you're under sedation
Let's do the Bunny Hop again.

When I was walking down the street with my ears so pink
up popped a fox disguised as a shrink
He looked me up, took me by surprise
He had a laydown couch and Burger King fries
He psychoanalyzed me and I felt a change
meat meant nothing, never would again
Let's do the Bunny Hop again.

-Jack O' Hare singing The Bunny Hop
a musical number written by
Christopher Dracul Van Helsing
Tuesday, October 26th, 2010.

Dreams of the South Pacific

Lines of palm trees
on silver seas
tinged with an aromatic breeze
the stars they quiver
by pale moon's sliver
and coconuts dance in the breeze
a ballroom of exotic trees
the fireflies they are aglow
and fishes jump for joy you know.


-A poem written by Christopher Dracul Van Helsing
Tuesday, October 19th, 2010

The Wicked Witch of the East Must Die!

In the annals of evil
and cosmic upheaval
Jack O' Hare was aware
of a very evil being
you'd go blind upon seeing
her heart was black
a walking rat.

There are good witches and bad witches
and those that emerge from shit of bitches
This evil witch was one such
devoid of divine touch
infernal through and through
she smelled like rat pooh.

This was the Wicked Witch of the East
but in evil she was not least.

East of the point where Jack stood
was this evil crone with cape and hood
the world turned to hate
because of her wretched gait
as she walked
and talked
but squawked.

For no human voice had she
this ugly horrid banshee
From the depths of Hell she came
to cause all she touched pain.

But Jack had had enough of this witch infernal
she must be sent to Hell eternal
and as he munched on corned beef and rye
with his big bunny ears held so high
Jack resolved
this Wicked Witch must die.

To be continued.

This being Part One of a neo-Miltonian neo-Homeric epic poem
written by Christopher Dracul Van Helsing
on this day Monday, October 18th, 2010.

Sherlock Holmes and The Headless Horseman of The Yorkshire Moors

"You've seemed distressed the past few days, Holmes," Doctor Watson observed, "what's up?".

"It's these damn hemorrhoids, Watson," Holmes adjusted the pillow on his chair, "I didn't realize they could be such a pain in the ass."

"Hemorrhoids have always been that, Holmes," Watson remarked.

Just then there was a knock at the door.

"I believe we have a visitor, Watson," Holmes lit his pipe.

"Brilliant deduction, Holmes," Watson smiled.

"Thank you, Watson," Holmes smiled.

Dr. Watson got up and answered the door.

Standing there was a man without a head.

In one hand, he held a ventriloquist's dummy.

"Pardon me," the dummy said, "but I appear to have lost my head. If it wasn't for this ventriloquist's dummy I found, I'd have a next to impossible time trying to communicate with people."

"How did you lose your head?" Holmes piped up.

"I lost it during the English Civil War," the spectral headless figure replied through the ventriloquist's dummy.

"That wasn't very civil of someone to cut your head off," Holmes put his pipe down.

"No, it wasn't," the spectral figure agreed, "but I found a pumpkin as a replacement. I've roamed the Yorkshire Moors with it through centuries on my horse. You may have heard of me, the Headless Horseman of the Yorkshire Moors?".

"I'm afraid I haven't," Holmes confessed.

"It's that damn Hessian cavalryman who lost his head during the American Revolutionary War," the spectre shook his non-existent head, "he gets all the press. The Headless Horseman of Sleepy Hollow. Thanks to Washington Irving, he gets all the glory. I wish I had a better PR agent."

"What's a PR agent?" Doctor Watson blew his nose.

"Public Relations, Watson," Holmes started tapping his fingers impatiently, "I suppose you'd like me to find your pumpkin head for you?".

"Yes, please," the spectre smiled through the ventriloquist's dummy.

"I once knew a lady of the evening who wanted to find her lost maiden head," Watson quipped.

"Yes, well we won't get into that now, Watson," Holmes grabbed his coat, his deerstalker cap and his walking stick and headed out the door, "Come Watson. The game's afoot."

"That's funny," Watson grinned, "I thought it was a head."


* * *

Dr. Watson sported a large nasty bump on the head after Holmes hit him with his walking stick for telling such an atrocious pun.

Watson was stopped by a French police bobby who was over here on a Paris-London Police Exchange program, "Pardon me, monsieur but that's quite a nasty boomp you have on your head."

"So I've noticed," Watson nodded.

"Great Scott, Watson," Holmes suddenly stopped in his tracks.

"Are you talking about that man standing over there in a kilt with a huge erection?" Watson queried.

"No, Watson," Holmes pointed to a sight in the window, "do you see in the window there? It's a jack o' lantern- a pumpkin bearing the carved initials HHOTYM- Headless Horseman of the Yorkshire Moors."

Holmes and Watson knocked on the door of the house with the jack o' lantern in the window.

The door opened.

"Sherlock Holmes, Doctor Watson," a cockney voice greeted them, "what are you doing here?".

"Lestrade, you total ass," Holmes wagged his finger at the Scotland Yard police inspector, "what are you doing with the Headless Horseman's head?".

"The 'Eadless 'Orseman's 'Ead?" Lestrade frowned, "what are you babbling about, Mr. Holmes? Are you drunk?".

"Drunk with the fount of knowledge, yes," Holmes rubbed his hands together, "for we have found the Headless Horseman's Head."

Lestrade had bought the head from a used pumpkin salesman.

Lestrade swore he'd never buy from a used pumpkin salesman again.

And so the Headless Horseman of the Yorkshire Moors got his head back.

The ventriloquist's dummy was elected to a seat in Parliament.

And Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson lived happily ever after.

That is until the next time someone else called upon them at their haunts at 221B Baker Street, London.


* * *

A Sherlock Holmes short short story for Hallowe'en
written by Christopher Dracul Van Helsing
Sunday, October 17th 2010.

The Date: 10-10-10

Dracul Van Helsing was leaving the Saint James' Court Hotel on his way to Saint Paul's Cathedral when he was greeted at the entrance and exit door of the hotel by the red-headed cyborg Sophia.

She was wearing a tight fitting purple mini dress, black silk pantyhose and red super spiked stiletto high-heeled shoes.

"I've been given instructions to make out with you for the next 3 hours," Sophia spoke in a very sultry voice.

"Oh, okay," Dracul wasn't one to turn down a beautiful woman on such a request.


* * *

There was a huge parade and festivities going on in Pyongyang the North Korean capital to mark the 65th Anniversary of the founding of the Korean Workers' Party by Great Leader Kim il-Sung.

Overseeing the parade was the so-called Dear Leader Kim Jong-il the son of Kim il-Sung.

And on the other side of a North Korean Army general on the platform overseeing the parade was the Next Leader Kim Jong-un the son and designated heir of Dear Leader Kim Jong-il.

Unknown to most western observers, there was a non-Korean woman marching in uniform along with North Korea's tight skirted women soldiers.

She was the Welsh Vampiress Morgana- acclaimed by the British press as the next Lady Gaga.

Morgana was able to parade in the North Korean daylight as a result of being given the powerful sunscreen invented for vampires and vampiresses by the former East German Stasi scientist Dr. Nicht Werhoffen who now worked for the Russian FSB.

A few rows behind Morgana and also dressed in the tight skirted uniform of the North Korean Army Women's Corps was South Korean vampire huntress Hyung Grace Kwan.

Hyung was keeping an eye on Morgana.

She had become aware the past few months that there had been several clandestine meetings going on between the Vampiress Morgana and designated North Korean heir Kim Jong-un. She was anxious to discover what those clandestine meetings were about.


* * *

Inside one of the back cloisters of Saint Paul's Cathedral, a nervous groom the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set was getting ready for his marriage to the Vampiress Martini the heiress to the Romanov billions.

By putting their two fortunes together, they would become a powerhouse in the world of global finance.

It was a dynastic marriage made in Heaven- although it was actually made in the Underworld when the idea came to Renfield R. Renfield when he was in a poker game with the Greek God Hades (known to our Roman Latin readers as Pluto).

The marriage was to be performed by Set's good friend and Bridge card game partner at several London clubs the ArchDruid of Canterbury.

The ArchDruid had suggested Saint Paul's Cathedral as the venue for Set's wedding nuptials to the Vampiress Martini.

When Set said that the presence of Crosses and Crucifixes might make him a tad uncomfortable during the ceremony, Dr. Rowan Williams smiled and said most of the clergy and laity would have no objections to the Crosses and Crucifixes being removed during the wedding service as most had no idea what was the purpose behind such objects in today's Church of England anyways.

Serving as deacon during the ceremony behind the ArchDruid was a U.S. Episcopalian bishop and part time Santeria practitioner who had removed the Crosses and Crucifixes from his own Cathedral years ago.

"Have you seen the latest Old Spice commercial where the spokesperson turns into a multi-headed hydra?" Amadeus Emanon asked Renfield who was getting ready the bucket of severed human fingers that would serve as confetti to be thrown after the service.

"No, I haven't," Renfield snapped angrily.

"I think that Episcopalian bishop who's going to be the deacon during the service needs some Old Spice," Amadeus remarked, "because his arm pits smell like Hell."

"That's no surpise," Renfield handed the organist the music sheet for the Ozzy Osbourne song Speak of the Devil which would be played as the wedding march instead of the traditional Here Comes The Bride or even the Allegro Maestoso selection from Handel's Water Music.

As the Episcopalian bishop struggled with his robes, Amadeus threw on a huge dose of Old Spice deodorant under each underarm.

The end result was when the bishop got the robe over his head, he had suddenly grown six other heads as well.

"Bloody Hell," the bishop said when he looked at his reflection in the mirror which immediately cracked upon his gaze.

"No time to worry about that now, Henry," the ArchDruid of Canterbury laughed, "it will be next to impossible to find an executioner to cut off your six extra heads before the service begins particularly in lieu of the fact capital punishment was abolished in England back in the 1960s."


* * *

Set was dressed in his best tuxedo, dress shirt and bow tie.

The Vampiress Martini was dressed in the latest elegant white wedding dress personally designed by Karl Lagerfeld.

The ArchDruid of Canterbury was dressed in episcopal purple wearing an inverted pentagram instead of a pectorial Cross around his neck.

The U.S. Episcopalian bishop was dressed in the white robes of a deacon with a chicken's foot around the neck of his central head while his six other heads blinked uncomfortably.

Renfield R. Renfield was the choir master trying to direct and conduct an unruly group of goths, punk rockers and heavy metal headbangers who made up the choir.

Amadeus Emanon was dressed in school boy style trousers and was the ringbearer for the occasion.

Lady Gaga was dressed in a luminously white short short mini dress, white silk nylons and white spiked stiletto high-heeled shoes and was the flower girl holding a basket of ragweed for the happy occasion.

The service began as the ArchDruid of Canterbury solemnly intoned, "Dearly beloved bretheren and sisteren and transgendered in-betweenem, we are gathered here today to join this vampire and this vampiress in the bondage of unholy matrimony. Marriage, which is a dishonourable estate according to the Association of British Divorce Attorneys, should not be entered into lightly or without a pre-nuptial agreement. If any of you know any reason why these two should not be awfully wed, let him speak now or forever hold his peace..."

Amadeus spoke in a whisper to Renfield (a whisper that echoed throughout the dome of Saint Paul's), "How did you manage to stop Dracul Van Helsing from coming to this service to raise his objections?".

Renfield also answered in a whisper (that likewise echoed throughout the dome of Saint Paul's Cathedral), "I sent the Cyborg Sophia to his hotel to stop him in his tracks. No doubt he's currently engaged..."

"O Brave New World that has such people in it," the Vampiress Martini looked up as she saw the moon
filter through the dome of Saint Paul's Cathedral.

To be continued.

Michelangelo's Vision of Another Last Judgement?

Renfield R. Renfield was communicating via computer with Michelangelo the psychic lobster's thought processes.

Michelangelo like the Leonardo DiCaprio character in the movie Inception could enter people's dreams.

What Michelangelo saw in the dreams appeared on Renfield's computer.

Renfield had Michelangelo examining the dreams of former U.S. President Jimmy Carter who was resting quietly in a hospital in Cleveland.

"Yes, I imagine if I had to fly to Cleveland," Renfield quipped, "I'd get sick to my stomach in the middle of my flight too."

Renfield looked at the images Michelangelo was seeing, "What the f---? What sort of person in his dreams is actually dreaming about building houses for people to live in who couldn't afford them otherwise?".

"Jimmy Carter does obviously," Amadeus said as he munched on a peanut butter sandwich.

"Michelangelo," Renfield spoke into the computer microphone, "enter Bill Clinton's dreams instead."

Michelangelo did so and within an instant other images appeared on screen.

"Oh, yes, this is so much more interesting," Renfield smiled, "I'm going to record these with my screen saver and add them to the porno movies I'm making."

"Is that physically possible?" Amadeus asked as he stopped in the middle of the peanut butter sandwich he was eating and stared in shock at what he saw on the screen.

"You must remember this is a dream you're watching so it doesn't really correspond to what one can do in reality," Renfield replied, "I wonder what Bill would pay me not to show these images to Hillary?".

"I don't see Hillary in any of these shots," Amadeus continued to eat his peanut butter sandwich.

"She isn't," Renfield replied.

"Oh," Amadeus finished his sandwich.

"Try Bill Gates' dreams now," Renfield ordered Michelangelo.

An image of Bill Gates appeared on the screen.

Amadeus announced, "I've just lost my appetite."

Renfield said, "So have I. I think in his dreams, Bill Gates is in his bedroom looking at what he's currently doing up on the mirror of his bedroom ceiling."

Amadeus looked on in horror, "Is that also a computer he's using while he's also engaged in... you know..."

"It is a computer," Renfield smiled, "and I'm sure Steve Jobs would be interested to know what sort of computer Bill Gates uses in his dreams. Note to screen saver: Save this shot. This can possibly be used to extract money from Bill Gates later."

Suddenly another image appeared on screen.

"Is that part of Bill Gates' dream?" Amadeus asked.

"I can't believe it," Renfield shook his head, "Michelangelo on his own has entered another person's dreams..."

The person in the dream was looking at toy soldiers, "Thanks to dear Daddy, I no longer have to play with wooden soldiers. Now I can play with real ones..."

The person laughed a sinister laugh.

* * *

South Korean vampire huntress Hyung Grace Kwan and Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing were asleep in the bedroom of their Paris hotel room.

Although Hyung was having trouble sleeping.

Ever since she saw that disturbing news story on the late night news this evening that North Korea's dictator Kim Jong-il had named his 27-year-old son Kim Jong-un (who had no military experience) a four-star general in the North Korean Army, she had been having unpleasant dreams.

"Get out of the way," Hyung booted a lobster out of the way with her spiked stiletto heels and then looked at the figure playing with toy soldiers

She recognized him immediately.

"Thanks to dear Daddy," the new North Korean 4-star general said, "I no longer have to play with wooden soldiers. Now I can play with real ones. To say nothing of those lovely missiles dear Daddy built and what can be put in them with all that lovely uranium we're producing in our enrichment plants..."


To be continued.