Esau's Pottage Revisited In Piccadilly Circus

Renfield R. Renfield was feeling a craving for tuna fish sandwiches.

In fact, Renfield was a tuna fish sandwich junkie.

Despite the fact he was allergic to tuna fish.

Renfield shot his arm full of medication so he wouldn't break out in hives whenever he ate tuna fish sandwiches.

The shapeshifting hamster Chief of Security and Corporate Intelligence for the millionaire (and formerly billionaire) ancient Egyptian vampire Set had spent the evening writing love letters to the new billionairess (and formerly homeless) vampiress named Martini and signing them with Set's name.

Renfield who didn't have a romantic bone in his body wondered how he'd be able to write anything to capture Martini's vampiric heart without coming across as the psychological/emotional equivalent of a hawthorne wooden stake that most vampire hunters and slayers used.

He asked Amadeus since Amadeus struck him as being the poetic type.

Amadeus suggested that Renfield read some of the sonnets of Shakespeare and Keats.

Renfield had done so.

He finished writing the last letter addressed to Martini and then looked at his watch.

10:30 P.M.

Renfield felt a craving for tuna fish sandwiches.

More specifically a craving for tuna fish sandwiches made by Mobius Dyck's House of Tuna Fish Cafe just off Piccadilly Circus.

Mobius Dyck made the best tuna fish sandwiches in the world in Renfield's opinion.

The last order for sandwiches would occur at 11 P.M. this evening.

That gave Renfield half an hour to get there.

Renfield put on his power skis (with an outboard motor on the back of each ski) and skied the snow filled streets of London to Piccadilly Circus and then the half block down to Mobius Dyck's House of Tuna Fish Cafe.

10:55 PM.

5 minutes to go.

Two customers were ahead of him- Bono and Rihanna.

Renfield had caught glimpses of Bono and Rihanna singing on TV last night while he was busy trying to read and comprehend Keats and Shakespeare.

Amadeus was watching the Hope For Haiti Concert on television.

"Oh, be a man, will ya?" Renfield bellowed at Amadeus when Amadeus started crying when he saw photos of injured Haitian children.

Bono and Rihanna grabbed their tuna fish sandwiches and sat down at a table overlooking the street.

"What sort of man wears sunglasses at night in the middle of a snowstorm?" Renfield glanced over contemptuously at Bono.

"It seems to work on the ladies," the cashier said.

Renfield took a notebook out of his jacket and made a notation, "Remember to tell boss to take Martini out on a date in the middle of the night in a snowstorm and wear sunglasses."

"What can I get you, sir?" the cashier asked.

"I'll have one of your extra large tuna fish sandwiches please," Renfield grinned like a Cheshire cat.

"I'm sorry, sir," the cashier pointed to Bono and Rihanna, "I just sold the last two tuna fish sandwiches."

Renfield's countenance fell like a mouse running down the clock.

Hickory dickory dock.

"But you usually have a few sandwiches still left at 5 to 11 before you have your last call for sandwiches," Renfield protested like a victim about to be beheaded on the orders of the Queen of Hearts.

"Normally we do, sir," the cashier nodded, "but that gentleman there came in at 10:45 this evening and ordered all our remaining sandwiches... with the exception of two when he saw Bono and Rihanna come in."

Renfield turned in the direction of where the cashier pointed.

The man blonde, blue-eyed and 6 feet tall (if he had been standing) wore a tannish yellow rain coat and a reddish brown fedora hat as he ate a sandwich.

Dracul Van Helsing.

"You bastard," Renfield spat at him as he walked over to his table.

"That pen you used to write a notation there," Dracul said, "it has a listening device in it. When you exclaimed you were coming here, I beat you to it and bought the last tuna fish sandwiches available for sale with the exception of the two Bono and Rihanna are eating of course."

Renfield's forehead broke into a sweat as he watched Dracul sampling the tuna.

"What do you want?" Renfield wiped his forehead with a handkerchief.

"My good friend the vampire concert pianist Manuel de Rivera y Vargas is being held in an Iranian prison," Dracul explained.

"I fail to see how that concerns me," Renfield started hyperventilating.

"You want one of Mobius Dyck's tuna fish sandwiches, don't you?" Dracul waved the bag of tuna fish sandwiches under his nose.

Renfield was starting to shake all over.

"You know I do," the shapeshifting hamster/human cursed at the Canadian vampire hunter.

Some of Renfield's hamster whiskers started growing under his nose as his bodily metabolism started going into shock over not getting its fixed cravings for tuna fish sandwiches.

"And you'll get one," Dracul smiled, "heck you'll get the entire bag if..."

"What do you want me to do?" tears started flowing out of Renfield's eyes.

"I understand this individual owes you a favour," Dracul wrote a name down on a napkin and handed it to Renfield to read.

Renfield started trembling when he saw the name (and it wasn't being caused by tuna fish withdrawal symptoms this time), "I wasn't aware of the fact that you were aware of this individual's existence."

"You'd be surprised to know what I'm aware of, Renfield," Dracul smiled at the shapeshifter, "now I want you to take this blank napkin and write on it, "The favour you owe me, give to Christopher Dracul Nicholas Alexander Constantine Van Helsing." And sign it using your signature of course."

Renfield grabbed the napkin and wrote on it just as Dracul had dictated.

He handed the napkin to Dracul who put it in his coat's inner pocket.

Dracul handed him the bag of tuna fish sandwiches which Renfield dove into eagerly and passionately.

Dracul tipped his hat to Bono and Rihanna on the way out.

As Renfield hungrily downed the last of the tuna fish sandwiches from the bag, he wondered if he'd ever come to regret selling the favour of that one individual for a bag of tuna fish sandwiches.

On the radio inside Mobius Dyck's cafe, a woman gospel singer was singing the song, "We are climbing Jacob's ladder, higher, higher, higher..."

Outside in the snow filled streets of London, Dracul walked.

He'd now be able to help his friend.

Dracul looked at the neon lights of Piccadilly Circus.

Bright. Flashing.

He felt joy that his friend would soon be out of that Iranian prison.

But what else seemed to be troubling his mind tonight as he lit a cigarette and blew smoke into the falling snow?

Perhaps the answer was being played on the ipod by a young woman who walked by.

For on the ipod, the voice of U2's Bono could be heard singing, "I still haven't found what I'm looking for..."

To be continued.