The Happy Billionaire and The Lonely Prince

London, England. The colossal mansion of the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set.

Set was whistling a happy tune as he bit the necks of various beautiful S&M escorts he had called up upon once again becoming a billionaire.

"Spank me and I'll suck your blood," Set sang in a very operatic sounding baritone voice.

Athelstan, Set's valet, was happily making vuvuzela shaped crumpets in the kitchen.

Renfield R. Renfield was happily telling a member of the British tabloid press that he was the one responsible for setting up the Russian spy ring in the U.S. in order to bring about a war between post-Soviet Russia and the United States.

When the reporter pointed out to the evil shapeshifting hamster/human that he hadn't even been genetically cloned and created yet at the time the Russian spy ring was set up in the U.S., Renfield immediately called an end to the interview.

Renfield then went up to the library, grabbed a pen and a piece of paper and wrote at the top of the piece of paper 10 PLACES WHERE I'VE HAD SEX.

He then sat there scratching his head.

"What are you doing?" Amadeus asked as he sat down at the same table.

"This is the latest craze on the Internet," Renfield replied, "Writing down 10 places where one has had sex."

"I assume then since it's a craze," Amadeus started munching on his bag of hot buttered popcorn, "that it's something only crazy people do."

Renfield ignored the remark and continued to sit there scratching his head.

Finally he wrote something down.

Amadeus glanced over and remarked, "Somehow I don't think masturbation counts."

Renfield crumpled up the piece of paper and threw it in the garbage can.


* * *

Outside the rain continued to pour.

The lightning continued to flash.

Dracul Van Helsing looked out the window.

Inside the house, it was deathly quiet.

No more could Dracul hear the sound of his dad shuffling papers as the elder man worked on his trilogy of history books.

That sound would be forever gone.

Dracul had always felt a special bond and kinship with the literary character of Harry Potter.

Now he felt it more than ever. For like Harry, he too was now without a living father.

And now he felt that he too would be facing a confrontation with his own personal Voldemort.

That was fine. Whatever must be must be.

The only thing he wondered was where was his own personal Ron Weasley and his own personal Hermione Granger to help him through this.

For as the great English poet John Donne wrote, "No man is an island."

To be continued.