Herr Hans was an Osiris-worshipping Roman Catholic priest.
Although according to certain extremist anti-Catholic Protestant Fundamentalist sects, all Roman Catholic priests were really Osiris worshippers.
Nevertheless Herr Hans was one who really did worship Osiris.
He worshipped the ancient Egyptian vampire Osiris and anxiously looked forward to Osiris' return to Earth from a planet orbiting the star Sirius in 2012 (where Osiris had been exiled as a result of a powerful black magic spell cast on him by his brother the ancient Egyptian vampire Set millenia ago).
Tonight Herr Hans was in Berlin, Germany at the site where Hitler's bunker had been located.
Tonight Herr Hans was using an ancient Druidic black magic spell to see if he could raise Adolf Hitler's ghost.
It was 66 years ago today- the date of Walpurgis Night (an important festival on the calendar of the old ancient Germanic pagan religion) that Adolf Hitler had committed suicide with Eva Braun in the Bunker as Soviet troops advanced on the Nazi capital of the Third Reich.
The reason Herr Hans was trying to raise Hitler's ghost was because of Herr Hans' love and worship and adoration of Earth mother goddess Gaia.
Dear Mother Earth couldn't afford to have six billion people living on her according to Herr Hans' reasoning and that of some of his fellow elitists.
The optimum population for the living organism Gaia was 1 billion people.
Hence 5 billion people would have to go.
And thus Herr Hans' reasoning as to why Hitler's ghost should be summoned and brought back from the dead.
It wasn't because Herr Hans was racist.
He wasn't.
After all, racism was politically incorrect in Herr Hans' reasoning.
Herr Hans wouldn't say that racism was inherently morally wrong because Herr Hans was a moral relativist and didn't believe in such things as right and wrong or good and evil.
Herr Hans was like Nietzsche's ubermensch (Overman) in that he was beyond good and evil.
Like all philosophical adherents of Nietzsche, he conveniently neglected the fact that the late philosopher had spent the last years of his life living in a state of insanity.
No, it wasn't because of racism that Herr Hans was hoping to bring back Hitler from the dead.
It was because of the Fuhrer's expertise in genocide and extermination.
If 5 billion people needed to be eliminated from the Earth so that dear living organism planetary Mother Gaia could live in celestial bliss and peace and harmony in the coming Age of Aquarius, Hitler's ghost was the entity that could do it.
So Herr Hans opened the book of Druidic black magic spells (unlike Herr Hans' Bible, this book didn't need the dust blown off it) and proceeded to speak the words and cast the spell...
... and summon Hitler's ghost...
... on this...
... Walpurgus Night...
To be continued.
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Amadeus' Surprise
Renfield R. Renfield was feeling depressed.
He still had not received an invitation to Prince William and Kate Middleton's Royal Wedding at Westminster Abbey this coming Friday and time was running out.
He still had not picked up a tuxedo not wanting to spend any money unless he was definitely going.
Then to top it off the guy he had killed last Friday (as an act of vengeance for the fellow stealing the last tuna fish sandwich on a plate that Renfield had wanted at a party two years ago) the Death Heavy Metal Lord Stryker had apparently risen from the dead this past Easter Sunday morning according to the radio broadcast of Coast To Coast AM With George Noory he had heard on short wave from the U.S. last night.
He did not bother opening the mansion front door when he heard a knock.
Instead Amadeus Emanon who was still busy eating all the chocolate Easter Bunnies and chocolate Easter eggs he had got last Sunday was forced to go answer it.
It was the post man with a registered letter for Mister Amadeus Emanon.
Amadeus signed for it with his chocolatey fingers to which the Royal Mail letter carrier harrumphed before leaving.
He then opened the letter with his chocolate covered fingers and smiled.
"What is it?" Renfield asked out of curiosity.
"It's from Buckingham Palace," Amadeus smiled a most alluring smile, "they apologized for being so late but here's my personal invitation to William and Kate's wedding this Friday."
"What the F---?" Renfield's face turned redder than a Communist lobster in heat and the throes of sexual passion, "how the Hell did you get an invitation to the Royal Wedding and I didn't?."
"Remember a few weeks ago," Amadeus calmly bit into another chocolate Easter Bunny, "when I was invited to give that Johann Sebastian Bach piano recital at St. Martin's Church in the Lincolnshire city of Stamford?".
"The one you invited me to go with you and I turned it down because I said who wants to visit some hick place in the sticks of England?" Renfield started involuntarily sprouting his hamster whiskers.
"That's the one," Amadeus then bit into a chocolate Easter egg, "anyhow it turns out Kate Middleton's parents were in Stamford that day and they dropped into Saint Martin's Church for my recital of Bach. They were so impressed with my virtuoso performance they said they would try to get me an invitation to their daughter and Will's wedding. Then they asked me if I had any friends with me that would like to go. Athelstan was with me so they said they would try to get him in."
Athelstan was the butler and valet to the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set.
As Amadeus finished the story and finished his egg, Athelstan came in from the kitchen looked pleased as punch.
"I just got a registered letter at the kitchen back door," Athelstan beamed so highly that it looked like his smile reached the beams of the high-ceilinged living room of the colossal mansion, "I've been invited to the Royal Wedding of Prince William and Kate Middleton."
Renfield started banging his own head on the table next to him.
An hour later he finally knocked himself out.
To be continued.
He still had not received an invitation to Prince William and Kate Middleton's Royal Wedding at Westminster Abbey this coming Friday and time was running out.
He still had not picked up a tuxedo not wanting to spend any money unless he was definitely going.
Then to top it off the guy he had killed last Friday (as an act of vengeance for the fellow stealing the last tuna fish sandwich on a plate that Renfield had wanted at a party two years ago) the Death Heavy Metal Lord Stryker had apparently risen from the dead this past Easter Sunday morning according to the radio broadcast of Coast To Coast AM With George Noory he had heard on short wave from the U.S. last night.
He did not bother opening the mansion front door when he heard a knock.
Instead Amadeus Emanon who was still busy eating all the chocolate Easter Bunnies and chocolate Easter eggs he had got last Sunday was forced to go answer it.
It was the post man with a registered letter for Mister Amadeus Emanon.
Amadeus signed for it with his chocolatey fingers to which the Royal Mail letter carrier harrumphed before leaving.
He then opened the letter with his chocolate covered fingers and smiled.
"What is it?" Renfield asked out of curiosity.
"It's from Buckingham Palace," Amadeus smiled a most alluring smile, "they apologized for being so late but here's my personal invitation to William and Kate's wedding this Friday."
"What the F---?" Renfield's face turned redder than a Communist lobster in heat and the throes of sexual passion, "how the Hell did you get an invitation to the Royal Wedding and I didn't?."
"Remember a few weeks ago," Amadeus calmly bit into another chocolate Easter Bunny, "when I was invited to give that Johann Sebastian Bach piano recital at St. Martin's Church in the Lincolnshire city of Stamford?".
"The one you invited me to go with you and I turned it down because I said who wants to visit some hick place in the sticks of England?" Renfield started involuntarily sprouting his hamster whiskers.
"That's the one," Amadeus then bit into a chocolate Easter egg, "anyhow it turns out Kate Middleton's parents were in Stamford that day and they dropped into Saint Martin's Church for my recital of Bach. They were so impressed with my virtuoso performance they said they would try to get me an invitation to their daughter and Will's wedding. Then they asked me if I had any friends with me that would like to go. Athelstan was with me so they said they would try to get him in."
Athelstan was the butler and valet to the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set.
As Amadeus finished the story and finished his egg, Athelstan came in from the kitchen looked pleased as punch.
"I just got a registered letter at the kitchen back door," Athelstan beamed so highly that it looked like his smile reached the beams of the high-ceilinged living room of the colossal mansion, "I've been invited to the Royal Wedding of Prince William and Kate Middleton."
Renfield started banging his own head on the table next to him.
An hour later he finally knocked himself out.
To be continued.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Spirit of Victor Frankenstein Lives On In 3 Mad Scientists
So, having agreed on a plan of action, the three scientists left the George And Dragon Pub just a few minutes after midnight on Easter Sunday morning April 24th 2011.
Their first stop was the Scotland Yard lab where Dr. Nicht Werhoffen removed from a jar what was left of the brain of Giza Investments Ltd. CEO Trevor Fontaine.
They then dropped by the Set Enterprises lab where Dr. Cadbury Rocher removed from a jar part of the heart of the ancient Egyptian deity Atum-Ra.
Dr. Sterling Makabo then went to see a Gypsy spiritist medium (a real one who could actually see spirits and not just claimed to see spirits) named Psychedelia to accompany them to Highgate Cemetery and on the way see if there were any disembodied spirits wandering the streets of London in search of a body.
It just so happened there was.
The spirit of the slain ancient Egyptian vampire Horus was busy wandering the streets of London ever since he lost his earthly channel Trevor Fontaine.
The three scientists and Psychedelia invited him along for the nocturnal ride (metaphorically speaking).
They then arrived at Highgate Cemetery where Dr. Nicht Werhoffen's Stasi burglary break-and-enter skills came in handy.
They entered the mausoleum of Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell where Dr. Cadbury Rocher had heard the body of the slain and popular Death Heavy Metal Lord Stryker had been put.
They took the lid off the sarcophagus where Stryker's body lay.
Dr. Werhoffen made an incision in Stryker's skull where he poured in pieces of Trevor Fontaine's brain.
He then sewed up the incision.
Dr. Rocher made an incision into Stryker's heart where he then inserted part of the heart of Atum-Ra.
He then sewed up the incision.
Dr. Sterling Makabo then used his black magic skills to re-animate Stryker's corpse and bring it back to life.
As the corpse was re-animated, the Gypsy medium Psychedelia told the disembodied vampiric spirit of Horus to now enter the body.
Of course at that moment, the ghost of the Heavy Metal rocker Stryker also happened to walk by and seeing his body restored to life- likewise chose to re-enter his body at the same time as the spirit of Horus.
Makabo cast the spell sealing the spirits inside the body at that moment.
"Shit, you've got two spirits in there," Dr. Nicht Werhoffen cried out.
"Oh well, this Resurrected entity will just happen to have a split personality," Dr. Cadbury Rocher shrugged, "maybe in his spare time he can get a blog at Xanga since there are a number of Xanga bloggers who seem to have split and multiple personalities."
"We must take him back to the Set Enterprises lab to inject him with that eternal life synthetic blood you're working on," Dr. Makabo said.
"Indeed," Rocher agreed.
At that moment, the 3 scientists and the gypsy medium could hear drunken shouting nearby.
"Let's get out of here," said Werhoffen.
The other two scientists and the gypsy medium followed leaving behind a totally confused Resurrected entity inside the mausoleum.
The drunken shouting was being done by a British bank executive who was shouting to the dead (in case, they could hear it) that Communism would probably rise again.
And this was what Mikhail Gorbachev planned all along, the banker shouted.
Unlike others in the Soviet Politbureau who were just in it for the power, Gorbachev was a Marxist-Leninist true believer.
So Gorbachev let the eastern European satellites go and allowed for the dissolution of the Soviet Union knowing that the West would be lulled to sleep.
And when the inevitable collapse of total laissez-faire capitalism came as Gorbachev knew it would, the globalized interconnected and inter-related and interdependent nations of the world would willingly embrace a Marxist one-world government.
The banker then started vomiting over Karl Marx's tomb.
And continued to vomit there the rest of the night and early morning.
Until Stryker's three mini-skirted groupie young women happened to pass him.
And the 3 women would spot the empty tomb.
And would see the empty coffin.
And Miranda the redhead would be the first to see the risen Stryker that Easter Sunday morn.
To be continued.
Their first stop was the Scotland Yard lab where Dr. Nicht Werhoffen removed from a jar what was left of the brain of Giza Investments Ltd. CEO Trevor Fontaine.
They then dropped by the Set Enterprises lab where Dr. Cadbury Rocher removed from a jar part of the heart of the ancient Egyptian deity Atum-Ra.
Dr. Sterling Makabo then went to see a Gypsy spiritist medium (a real one who could actually see spirits and not just claimed to see spirits) named Psychedelia to accompany them to Highgate Cemetery and on the way see if there were any disembodied spirits wandering the streets of London in search of a body.
It just so happened there was.
The spirit of the slain ancient Egyptian vampire Horus was busy wandering the streets of London ever since he lost his earthly channel Trevor Fontaine.
The three scientists and Psychedelia invited him along for the nocturnal ride (metaphorically speaking).
They then arrived at Highgate Cemetery where Dr. Nicht Werhoffen's Stasi burglary break-and-enter skills came in handy.
They entered the mausoleum of Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell where Dr. Cadbury Rocher had heard the body of the slain and popular Death Heavy Metal Lord Stryker had been put.
They took the lid off the sarcophagus where Stryker's body lay.
Dr. Werhoffen made an incision in Stryker's skull where he poured in pieces of Trevor Fontaine's brain.
He then sewed up the incision.
Dr. Rocher made an incision into Stryker's heart where he then inserted part of the heart of Atum-Ra.
He then sewed up the incision.
Dr. Sterling Makabo then used his black magic skills to re-animate Stryker's corpse and bring it back to life.
As the corpse was re-animated, the Gypsy medium Psychedelia told the disembodied vampiric spirit of Horus to now enter the body.
Of course at that moment, the ghost of the Heavy Metal rocker Stryker also happened to walk by and seeing his body restored to life- likewise chose to re-enter his body at the same time as the spirit of Horus.
Makabo cast the spell sealing the spirits inside the body at that moment.
"Shit, you've got two spirits in there," Dr. Nicht Werhoffen cried out.
"Oh well, this Resurrected entity will just happen to have a split personality," Dr. Cadbury Rocher shrugged, "maybe in his spare time he can get a blog at Xanga since there are a number of Xanga bloggers who seem to have split and multiple personalities."
"We must take him back to the Set Enterprises lab to inject him with that eternal life synthetic blood you're working on," Dr. Makabo said.
"Indeed," Rocher agreed.
At that moment, the 3 scientists and the gypsy medium could hear drunken shouting nearby.
"Let's get out of here," said Werhoffen.
The other two scientists and the gypsy medium followed leaving behind a totally confused Resurrected entity inside the mausoleum.
The drunken shouting was being done by a British bank executive who was shouting to the dead (in case, they could hear it) that Communism would probably rise again.
And this was what Mikhail Gorbachev planned all along, the banker shouted.
Unlike others in the Soviet Politbureau who were just in it for the power, Gorbachev was a Marxist-Leninist true believer.
So Gorbachev let the eastern European satellites go and allowed for the dissolution of the Soviet Union knowing that the West would be lulled to sleep.
And when the inevitable collapse of total laissez-faire capitalism came as Gorbachev knew it would, the globalized interconnected and inter-related and interdependent nations of the world would willingly embrace a Marxist one-world government.
The banker then started vomiting over Karl Marx's tomb.
And continued to vomit there the rest of the night and early morning.
Until Stryker's three mini-skirted groupie young women happened to pass him.
And the 3 women would spot the empty tomb.
And would see the empty coffin.
And Miranda the redhead would be the first to see the risen Stryker that Easter Sunday morn.
To be continued.
Monday, April 25, 2011
The Difference Between Jesus and Zombies and Vampires
So how did the Death Metal Lord Stryker come to rise from the dead that Easter Sunday morn of 2011?
Back on Saturday night, April 23rd 2011, three scientists were drinking dark ale and having steak and kidney pie in a pub called The George and Dragon (quite appropriate since April 23rd is the Feast Day of Saint George The Dragonslayer).
Since the three men noted they were drinking the same ale and eating the same type of pie, they decided to sit together at the same table.
The 3 men were-
1) Dr. Cadbury Rocher- the Chief Scientist at the laboratory of Set Enterprises- the company owned and operated by the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set.
2) Dr. Sterling Makabo- a Xhosa witch doctor from South Africa. He was both a Medical Doctor (M.D.) and a practitioner of his tribe's traditional Black Magical practices (including the power to raise corpses as zombies). With his knowledge of both Western medicine as well as traditional African black magic, Dr. Makabo was naturally a frequent guest on The Oprah Show as well as a regular guest speaker at Rick Warren's Saddleback Church in Lake Forest, California.
3) Dr. Nicht Werhoffen- formerly a leading scientist for the former East German Stasi Intelligence Service in the former East Berlin (since 1991 he has worked for the Russian FSB Intelligence Service as one of their leading scientists).
Dr. Makabo and Dr. Werhoffen were listening to a magazine article being read aloud by Dr. Cadbury Rocher.
The article was written by Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing and was entitled What's The Difference Between Jesus and Zombies and Vampires?
What's The Difference Between Jesus and Zombies and Vampires?
by Christopher Dracul Van Helsing
Zombies have no souls. They are soulless corpses animated either by an energy wielded by the witch doctor or shaman who has raised them or else they are temporarily animated by demonic spirits. Unlike Jesus with His Resurrection Body, they can be put down again.
Zombies also are incapable of love or feeling or emotion or pain. All they are capable of is eating and devouring with their soulless husks.
Vampires do have souls. This is what distinguishes them from zombies. Vampires are not walking corpses. They are neither Living Dead nor Walking Dead. They are the Un-Dead- not quite alive in the way that ordinary mortal humans are neither are they dead like the dead who lie in the graves or in urns with their bodies and souls separated.
Vampires and vampiresses are capable of feeling love and hate and emotion and feeling and pain. Many vampires and vampiresses use their powerful seemingly immortal state (immortal unless they are staked through the heart or beheaded) for purposes of evil. There are some vampires and vampiresses however who try to use their existence for good and for performing acts of love.
Vampires and vampiresses could theoretically live forever. But practically... no they can be killed by a stake through the heart or being beheaded or being burned and consumed by fire.
Jesus has a soul. Being true Man (as well as true God), He has both a human body and a human soul.
Jesus is very capable of love and hate (He hates sin but not the individual sinner) and emotion and feeling and pain.
In HIs Resurrection Body, He does live forever and can never die again. He is the first individual in history to have truly conquered Death forever and ever.
Jesus always uses His existence for good and for performing acts of love.
-Christopher Dracul Van Helsing is a vampire hunter as well as a writer and an analyst in the fields of Geopolitics and International Relations.
* * *
Dr. Nicht Werhoffen took a sip of his ale, "Gentlemen, I put it to you with our knowledge of genetics and DNA and Artificial Intelligence and robotics and nanotechnology and vampires and zombies, could we not create a 2nd Jesus? Bring back from the dead someone who is neither vampire nor zombie nor Jesus but a transhuman Messiah for this era?".
Both Dr. Makabo and Dr. Rocher looked at Dr. Werhoffen and nodded.
"So gentlemen," Dr. Werhoffen smiled, "let's do it. In fact, let's do it tonight."
On the television screen in the pub which had the sound turned down, a Catholic priest was being interviewed on BBC television and was just asked the question, "What ultimately is the Blasphemy Against the Holy Ghost that Jesus talked about?".
To be continued.
Back on Saturday night, April 23rd 2011, three scientists were drinking dark ale and having steak and kidney pie in a pub called The George and Dragon (quite appropriate since April 23rd is the Feast Day of Saint George The Dragonslayer).
Since the three men noted they were drinking the same ale and eating the same type of pie, they decided to sit together at the same table.
The 3 men were-
1) Dr. Cadbury Rocher- the Chief Scientist at the laboratory of Set Enterprises- the company owned and operated by the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set.
2) Dr. Sterling Makabo- a Xhosa witch doctor from South Africa. He was both a Medical Doctor (M.D.) and a practitioner of his tribe's traditional Black Magical practices (including the power to raise corpses as zombies). With his knowledge of both Western medicine as well as traditional African black magic, Dr. Makabo was naturally a frequent guest on The Oprah Show as well as a regular guest speaker at Rick Warren's Saddleback Church in Lake Forest, California.
3) Dr. Nicht Werhoffen- formerly a leading scientist for the former East German Stasi Intelligence Service in the former East Berlin (since 1991 he has worked for the Russian FSB Intelligence Service as one of their leading scientists).
Dr. Makabo and Dr. Werhoffen were listening to a magazine article being read aloud by Dr. Cadbury Rocher.
The article was written by Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing and was entitled What's The Difference Between Jesus and Zombies and Vampires?
What's The Difference Between Jesus and Zombies and Vampires?
by Christopher Dracul Van Helsing
Zombies have no souls. They are soulless corpses animated either by an energy wielded by the witch doctor or shaman who has raised them or else they are temporarily animated by demonic spirits. Unlike Jesus with His Resurrection Body, they can be put down again.
Zombies also are incapable of love or feeling or emotion or pain. All they are capable of is eating and devouring with their soulless husks.
Vampires do have souls. This is what distinguishes them from zombies. Vampires are not walking corpses. They are neither Living Dead nor Walking Dead. They are the Un-Dead- not quite alive in the way that ordinary mortal humans are neither are they dead like the dead who lie in the graves or in urns with their bodies and souls separated.
Vampires and vampiresses are capable of feeling love and hate and emotion and feeling and pain. Many vampires and vampiresses use their powerful seemingly immortal state (immortal unless they are staked through the heart or beheaded) for purposes of evil. There are some vampires and vampiresses however who try to use their existence for good and for performing acts of love.
Vampires and vampiresses could theoretically live forever. But practically... no they can be killed by a stake through the heart or being beheaded or being burned and consumed by fire.
Jesus has a soul. Being true Man (as well as true God), He has both a human body and a human soul.
Jesus is very capable of love and hate (He hates sin but not the individual sinner) and emotion and feeling and pain.
In HIs Resurrection Body, He does live forever and can never die again. He is the first individual in history to have truly conquered Death forever and ever.
Jesus always uses His existence for good and for performing acts of love.
-Christopher Dracul Van Helsing is a vampire hunter as well as a writer and an analyst in the fields of Geopolitics and International Relations.
* * *
Dr. Nicht Werhoffen took a sip of his ale, "Gentlemen, I put it to you with our knowledge of genetics and DNA and Artificial Intelligence and robotics and nanotechnology and vampires and zombies, could we not create a 2nd Jesus? Bring back from the dead someone who is neither vampire nor zombie nor Jesus but a transhuman Messiah for this era?".
Both Dr. Makabo and Dr. Rocher looked at Dr. Werhoffen and nodded.
"So gentlemen," Dr. Werhoffen smiled, "let's do it. In fact, let's do it tonight."
On the television screen in the pub which had the sound turned down, a Catholic priest was being interviewed on BBC television and was just asked the question, "What ultimately is the Blasphemy Against the Holy Ghost that Jesus talked about?".
To be continued.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Easter Morn in London's Highgate Cemetery
Three of the heavy metal rocker Stryker's groupies were in a London fish and chips shop nursing a hangover from the night before.
One girl opened up her purse and two of the other girls screamed, "Oh, my God! Oh, my God! You've got a penis in there."
"How the Hell did that get in there?" the girl who was blonde scratched her head.
"I know, I know," shouted the redhead, "you picked it up two nights ago after the rock star Stryker had his penis cut off by that guy who then turned into a hamster and scurried outside the nightclub."
"I thought this extra large popsicle was taking a long time to suck," the blonde sighed.
"It was no popsicle," said the brunette, "like Miranda here just said, it's Stryker's penis."
"Oh, my God," the blonde hit her forehead, "oh, what a dummy. oh, what a dummy."
"We really should return it to Stryker," said the brunette Vivian.
"But he's dead isn't he?" said the blonde named Candy.
"I heard that recording executive guy Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell tell the bouncers at the nightclub to bury Stryker in his own tomb at Highgate Cemetery," Miranda the redhead spoke up.
"Let's go and open Stryker's coffin and put his penis back in," said Vivian, "a guy like that shouldn't be buried without his penis."
"But how are we going to get into the tomb and into the coffin?" Candy asked.
"Don't ask such questions," Miranda slapped her, "this is no time for you to be developing a high IQ now."
* * *
Many eyebrows were raised among various people in London's Highgate Cemetery on this Easter morning as three very beautiful young women wearing extra short micro mini skirts and sexy pantyhose and sexy spiked stiletto high-heeled shoes entered the cemetery.
They asked one of the cemetery grounds keepers where Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell's tomb was located and he pointed them in the right direction.
They passed by a British bank executive who was busy vomiting on Karl Marx's tombstone that had on it the epitaph WORKERS OF ALL LANDS UNITE.
They approached the Campbell mausoleum.
The door was open.
"Look the door is open," Miranda ran in.
"The coffin is empty," said Candy who followed close on her heels.
"They've stolen Stryker's body!" Vivian exclaimed, "The bastards!".
* * *
Miranda stood at the empty coffin and wept.
"Miranda,' a voice behind her gently said.
Miranda turned and saw a figure standing there.
"Please tell me where they have taken my rock lord's body," Miranda begged as she grabbed the stranger's leg, "I won't tell the authorities."
"Miranda," the figure opened his robe, "do you know where my penis is?."
Miranda screamed and ran out of the mausoleum.
* * *
And thus had the death heavy metal rock star Stryker risen from the dead on this Easter Sunday morn in London's Highgate Cemetery.
And it seemed like all the doves had left London.
And the city was overflowing with crows.
And on the radio from a nearby apartment that had its window open... could be heard playing that old song from the old 1960s rock musical Hair, "This is the dawning of the Age of Aquarius... the Age of Aquarius..."
To be continued.
One girl opened up her purse and two of the other girls screamed, "Oh, my God! Oh, my God! You've got a penis in there."
"How the Hell did that get in there?" the girl who was blonde scratched her head.
"I know, I know," shouted the redhead, "you picked it up two nights ago after the rock star Stryker had his penis cut off by that guy who then turned into a hamster and scurried outside the nightclub."
"I thought this extra large popsicle was taking a long time to suck," the blonde sighed.
"It was no popsicle," said the brunette, "like Miranda here just said, it's Stryker's penis."
"Oh, my God," the blonde hit her forehead, "oh, what a dummy. oh, what a dummy."
"We really should return it to Stryker," said the brunette Vivian.
"But he's dead isn't he?" said the blonde named Candy.
"I heard that recording executive guy Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell tell the bouncers at the nightclub to bury Stryker in his own tomb at Highgate Cemetery," Miranda the redhead spoke up.
"Let's go and open Stryker's coffin and put his penis back in," said Vivian, "a guy like that shouldn't be buried without his penis."
"But how are we going to get into the tomb and into the coffin?" Candy asked.
"Don't ask such questions," Miranda slapped her, "this is no time for you to be developing a high IQ now."
* * *
Many eyebrows were raised among various people in London's Highgate Cemetery on this Easter morning as three very beautiful young women wearing extra short micro mini skirts and sexy pantyhose and sexy spiked stiletto high-heeled shoes entered the cemetery.
They asked one of the cemetery grounds keepers where Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell's tomb was located and he pointed them in the right direction.
They passed by a British bank executive who was busy vomiting on Karl Marx's tombstone that had on it the epitaph WORKERS OF ALL LANDS UNITE.
They approached the Campbell mausoleum.
The door was open.
"Look the door is open," Miranda ran in.
"The coffin is empty," said Candy who followed close on her heels.
"They've stolen Stryker's body!" Vivian exclaimed, "The bastards!".
* * *
Miranda stood at the empty coffin and wept.
"Miranda,' a voice behind her gently said.
Miranda turned and saw a figure standing there.
"Please tell me where they have taken my rock lord's body," Miranda begged as she grabbed the stranger's leg, "I won't tell the authorities."
"Miranda," the figure opened his robe, "do you know where my penis is?."
Miranda screamed and ran out of the mausoleum.
* * *
And thus had the death heavy metal rock star Stryker risen from the dead on this Easter Sunday morn in London's Highgate Cemetery.
And it seemed like all the doves had left London.
And the city was overflowing with crows.
And on the radio from a nearby apartment that had its window open... could be heard playing that old song from the old 1960s rock musical Hair, "This is the dawning of the Age of Aquarius... the Age of Aquarius..."
To be continued.
Saturday, April 23, 2011
It's Saturday... The Day After Friday... And Tomorrow's Sunday
The Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing and the South Korean vampire huntress Hyung Crace Kwan were having coffee in a Parisienne cafe after having attended Easter Vigil Evening Vespers at Notre Dame Cathedral.
Hyung was dressed in a black blouse and black skirt and black silk nylons and black spiked stiletto heels.
"So what are you thinking about?" Hyung asked the Canadian vampire hunter.
"About how Good Friday and Lenin's birthday fell on the same day this year," Dracul replied.
"That's right, they did," Hyung nodded, "yesterday was April 22nd."
"Many people don't know that's why Earth Day is celebrated on April 22nd," Dracul stated, "back in the 1960s and 1970s, the Soviet KGB had heavily penetrated both the upper levels of the United Nations and the environmental movement in the Western world. So when the date was selected for the very first Earth Day in 1970. April 22nd 1970 was chosen since that would have been Lenin's 100th birthday."
"So are Marxists still heavily involved in Earth Day celebrations?" Hyung asked.
"Not since the collapse of the Soviet Union, no," Dracul shook his head, "it's mainly run by New Agers and Gaia earth-goddess worshipping neo-Pagans now."
"But still celebrated on Lenin's birthday," Hyung said.
"Yes, Lenin seems to be one very green corpse," Dracul remarked.
* * *
Renfield R. Renfield was sitting in a Piccadilly Circus restaurant and eating a tuna fish sandwich recalling how he had spent his Good Friday.
Early in the wee hours of Good Friday morning, Renfield had nailed the heavy metal rocker Stryker (nailed him quite literally) both hands and feet to the rafters of London's latest trendiest discoteque and nightclub.
Renfield ripped off the rocker's clothes and threw them to screaming female fans on the floor below where they played World of Warcraft on their smart phones and whoever got the highest score would be entitled to a portion of the metal rocker's clothing.
At one point, Stryker let out a cry, "Lama, lama, deli-sabama?" which being interpreted is "Where the Hell did I leave my car keys?".
"This man calls for the Dalai Lama," some pot-smoking doper shouted.
"Let's see whether the Dalai Lama comes to save him," another doper cried out.
"The Dalai Lama isn't coming," a psychedlic mini dress wearing blonde with glazed eyes said after 5 minutes had passed.
"Bummer," a doped-out dopey looking nerd with glasses and curly hair remarked, "I was wanting to ask him where he bought his orange robes. And then I was going to ask him if he knew of any place that sold apple or grapefruit robes as well."
Then Stryker said, "I thirst."
A groupie in a black leather mini skirt pulled up her skirt and pulled down her pantyhose and panties and removed her tampon. She then put her tampon on one of the lounge's cool looking bamboo poles and held it up to Stryker's lips where he drank.
Renfield then grabbed a customer's samurai sword and went and cut off Stryker's erect phallus.
"My penis, my penis," Stryker screamed, "why hast thou forsaken me?".
"He's bleeding all over me!" a doper shouted.
"Father," Stryker looked down towards what lay beneath the dance floor, "Into thy hands, I commend my spirit."
He then gave up the ghost.
Then the power and the electricity and the lights went out.
A doper flicked his cigarette lighter open and said, "Truly, this man was the Son of Belial."
* * *
Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell organized a group of the nightclub bouncers who took down Stryker's body and wrapped it in a blanket.
He then told the bouncers to go to Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell's own tomb in London's Highgate Cemetery and bury the body there.
And they did so.
* * *
And Renfield still had not received an invitation to attend Prince William's and Kate Middleton's wedding.
And spilling some loose change on the floor of the restaurant, Renfield went out into the night into the bright lights of Piccadilly Circus and wept.
* * *
To be continued.
Hyung was dressed in a black blouse and black skirt and black silk nylons and black spiked stiletto heels.
"So what are you thinking about?" Hyung asked the Canadian vampire hunter.
"About how Good Friday and Lenin's birthday fell on the same day this year," Dracul replied.
"That's right, they did," Hyung nodded, "yesterday was April 22nd."
"Many people don't know that's why Earth Day is celebrated on April 22nd," Dracul stated, "back in the 1960s and 1970s, the Soviet KGB had heavily penetrated both the upper levels of the United Nations and the environmental movement in the Western world. So when the date was selected for the very first Earth Day in 1970. April 22nd 1970 was chosen since that would have been Lenin's 100th birthday."
"So are Marxists still heavily involved in Earth Day celebrations?" Hyung asked.
"Not since the collapse of the Soviet Union, no," Dracul shook his head, "it's mainly run by New Agers and Gaia earth-goddess worshipping neo-Pagans now."
"But still celebrated on Lenin's birthday," Hyung said.
"Yes, Lenin seems to be one very green corpse," Dracul remarked.
* * *
Renfield R. Renfield was sitting in a Piccadilly Circus restaurant and eating a tuna fish sandwich recalling how he had spent his Good Friday.
Early in the wee hours of Good Friday morning, Renfield had nailed the heavy metal rocker Stryker (nailed him quite literally) both hands and feet to the rafters of London's latest trendiest discoteque and nightclub.
Renfield ripped off the rocker's clothes and threw them to screaming female fans on the floor below where they played World of Warcraft on their smart phones and whoever got the highest score would be entitled to a portion of the metal rocker's clothing.
At one point, Stryker let out a cry, "Lama, lama, deli-sabama?" which being interpreted is "Where the Hell did I leave my car keys?".
"This man calls for the Dalai Lama," some pot-smoking doper shouted.
"Let's see whether the Dalai Lama comes to save him," another doper cried out.
"The Dalai Lama isn't coming," a psychedlic mini dress wearing blonde with glazed eyes said after 5 minutes had passed.
"Bummer," a doped-out dopey looking nerd with glasses and curly hair remarked, "I was wanting to ask him where he bought his orange robes. And then I was going to ask him if he knew of any place that sold apple or grapefruit robes as well."
Then Stryker said, "I thirst."
A groupie in a black leather mini skirt pulled up her skirt and pulled down her pantyhose and panties and removed her tampon. She then put her tampon on one of the lounge's cool looking bamboo poles and held it up to Stryker's lips where he drank.
Renfield then grabbed a customer's samurai sword and went and cut off Stryker's erect phallus.
"My penis, my penis," Stryker screamed, "why hast thou forsaken me?".
"He's bleeding all over me!" a doper shouted.
"Father," Stryker looked down towards what lay beneath the dance floor, "Into thy hands, I commend my spirit."
He then gave up the ghost.
Then the power and the electricity and the lights went out.
A doper flicked his cigarette lighter open and said, "Truly, this man was the Son of Belial."
* * *
Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell organized a group of the nightclub bouncers who took down Stryker's body and wrapped it in a blanket.
He then told the bouncers to go to Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell's own tomb in London's Highgate Cemetery and bury the body there.
And they did so.
* * *
And Renfield still had not received an invitation to attend Prince William's and Kate Middleton's wedding.
And spilling some loose change on the floor of the restaurant, Renfield went out into the night into the bright lights of Piccadilly Circus and wept.
* * *
To be continued.
Friday, April 22, 2011
Good Friday vs. Rebecca Black's Friday
On this Good Friday, if you're contemplating Rebecca Black's lyrics, "It's Friday, Friday, gotta get down on Friday" remember that Christ did not get down from the Cross on Friday even though the Scribes and Pharisees beneath the Cross taunted Him to do so. And it's a good thing for humanity that Christ did not get down from the Cross for if He had, all of us would be eternally lost.
-Christopher Van Helsing, Good Friday, April 22nd, 2011.
-Christopher Van Helsing, Good Friday, April 22nd, 2011.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Stryker's Last Orgy
Stryker was a death heavy metal music star.
His label was Aulos Music and Recording.
The past six months Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell the Executive Vice-President of Aulos Music and Recording had been baby-sitting (quite literally) the 33-year-old star on his world-wide tour.
Heathcliff was sick of cleaning up the mess (particularly the bodies of the teen-aged girl groupies that Stryker had slain and drunk their blood afterwards).
"One would think you're a vampire or something," Heathcliff had sniffed.
"Maybe someday I will be," Stryker laughed.
Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell was so busy looking after the petulant spoiled brat heavy metal rocker that he had no time to look out for his more talented heavy metal protogee the genuinely authentic Vampiress Morgana (who at least did not kill and drink the blood of her fans since she knew who was paying the money that kept her bread buttered and her bacon coming).
Now Heathcliff heard the dreadful news that the Board of Directors of Aulos was going to assign another of the label executives to manage Morgana while he Heathcliff would be stuck with Stryker.
Oh, Heathcliff thought to himself, was there no way out of this mess?
* * *
Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell stood outside the door of the Vampiress Morgana's hotel room to tell his protogee the bad news and was about to knock when he heard two feminine voices from inside the room.
Heathcliff stopped to listen.
Inside the hotel room, the Vampiress Isis stood in a red evening dress and red spiked stiletto heels.
The Vampiress Morgana stood in a black tank top, black leather mini skirt, black silk fishnet nylons and black spiked stiletto heels.
"I want to know," said Isis, "are you any relation to the Sorceress Morgana of Avalon?".
"I'm her niece," the Vampiress Morgana answered, "Auntie Morgana was beheaded and slain by King Arthur centuries ago."
"This I know," said Isis, "for I was close by when it happened. What I want to know is do you have any of your aunt's magical powers. Can you resurrect a slain vampire from the dead for example?".
"I have some magical powers," the Vampiress Morgana replied, "but I do not have the power to Resurrect."
The Vampiress Isis sighed.
Then she looked at Morgana, "Thank you for your time."
The Vampiress Isis bowed and then opened the hotel room door where she saw Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell standing there.
"Have we not met before?" Isis asked.
"I believe we spent a delightful evening last Boxing Day over champagne and caviar on the French Riviera discussing the writer Oscar Wilde and the painter Dante Gabriel Rossetti," Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell answered.
"Indeed, we did," Isis smiled, "we must do that again soon."
She then walked down the hall and pressed the elevator button.
Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell then entered the Vampiress Morgana's hotel room where he broke the bad news to her.
Morgana burst into tears.
* * *
Upon exiting the hotel, Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell wrapped his coat tightly around himself because of the wet London evening drizzle now falling.
He looked up and recognized someone.
It was Renfield R. Renfield.
"Excuse me," Heathcliff tried to get past the shapeshifting hamster/human because he had been nothing but trouble for Mr. Dionysus Campbell in the past.
"Do you recognize this person?" Renfield held up a photo.
Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell put on his gold-wire rimmed glasses and looked at the photo.
"It's Stryker," Heathcliff replied, "the most obnoxious of the clients I manage."
"I thought you might know him," Renfield grinned an evil grin, "you know a lot of musicians."
"Being in the music and recording business I naturally would," Heathcliff harrumphed with an irritated lisp.
"I came across this man's photo on the cover of an entertainment magazine earlier today," Renfield explained, "in fact the same magazine where I ripped out this photo which seemed to upset the shopkeeper Mr. Patel for some reason. He demanded that I pay the cost of the full price of the magazine. Finally I was forced to shoot him after he threatened to call the police."
"Why are you interested in this Stryker?" Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell took out a handkerchief and began wiping raindrops off his glasses.
"I recognized the fellow right away," Renfield seethed, "he was the one who swiped the last tuna fish sandwich off a plate at an upscale party I was at 2 years ago just before I could get to it myself. I swore revenge if I ever came across him again."
"What do you plan to do to him?" Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell put his glasses back on and blinked at the shapeshifter.
"Kill him," Renfield answered.
"This is my lucky day," Heathcliff thought to himself and then he said aloud to Renfield, "What's in it for me if I take you to him?".
"I won't kill you," Renfield laughed.
"I feel like dying these days anyways," Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell shrugged, "you'll have to do better than threats if you want me to help you."
"All right, I'll pay you thirty thousand pounds if you take me to him," Renfield said.
"Show me the money," Heathcliff held out his palm.
Renfield went to a nearby bank's ATM cash machine and using his employer the billionaire ancient Egyptian Vampire Set's debit card positively emptied the bank's cash machine out of thirty thousand pound notes.
Renfield and Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell then took a taxi to the nightclub where Stryker was having his post-concert orgy.
Meanwhile noted American actor Charlie Sheen walked up to the bank's ATM cash machine and inserted his debit card.
Then he started swearing it, "I can't believe it. This @#%^&*!*@ machine is out of @#%^!*@ cash."
* * *
"All right," Heathcliff spoke to Renfield, "at these orgies, there are a lot of guys and even a few girls who like to dress up as Stryker. Wait 5 minutes and then come in and I'll direct you to the real one."
"How will I know the real one?" Renfield asked.
Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell whispered inside Renfield's ear.
Renfield grimaced but nodded.
* * *
Stryker was seated at a table surrounded by an adoring group of short skirted and mini dress wearing teen-aged groupies.
Stryker opened a plastic bag of cocaine and passed it around saying, "This is my body which is given for you. Snort this in remembrance of me."
The girls took the bag and shoved some of the cocaine up their respective noses.
Then Stryker opened the cap off a beer bottle with his teeth and passed the bottle of beer around saying, "This is my blood (my golden blood!) of the newest and most irrevocable covenant which is shed for you and for many for the mother of all orgasms."
Each girl took a sip of the beer and had a multiple orgasm as she did so.
Renfield entered the nightclub.
Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell went up to Stryker and kissed him on the lips.
"Dionysus," Stryker looked at Heathcliff, "dost thou betray the Son of Belial with a kiss?".
Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell's face turned crimson.
"What thou doest, do quickly," Stryker slit a girl's throat and drank her blood.
Heathcliff Dionyus Campbell ran to the washroom and hung a roll of toilet paper over the seat and sat down and blew his nose.
And Renfield R. Renfield moved in for the kill.
To be continued.
His label was Aulos Music and Recording.
The past six months Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell the Executive Vice-President of Aulos Music and Recording had been baby-sitting (quite literally) the 33-year-old star on his world-wide tour.
Heathcliff was sick of cleaning up the mess (particularly the bodies of the teen-aged girl groupies that Stryker had slain and drunk their blood afterwards).
"One would think you're a vampire or something," Heathcliff had sniffed.
"Maybe someday I will be," Stryker laughed.
Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell was so busy looking after the petulant spoiled brat heavy metal rocker that he had no time to look out for his more talented heavy metal protogee the genuinely authentic Vampiress Morgana (who at least did not kill and drink the blood of her fans since she knew who was paying the money that kept her bread buttered and her bacon coming).
Now Heathcliff heard the dreadful news that the Board of Directors of Aulos was going to assign another of the label executives to manage Morgana while he Heathcliff would be stuck with Stryker.
Oh, Heathcliff thought to himself, was there no way out of this mess?
* * *
Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell stood outside the door of the Vampiress Morgana's hotel room to tell his protogee the bad news and was about to knock when he heard two feminine voices from inside the room.
Heathcliff stopped to listen.
Inside the hotel room, the Vampiress Isis stood in a red evening dress and red spiked stiletto heels.
The Vampiress Morgana stood in a black tank top, black leather mini skirt, black silk fishnet nylons and black spiked stiletto heels.
"I want to know," said Isis, "are you any relation to the Sorceress Morgana of Avalon?".
"I'm her niece," the Vampiress Morgana answered, "Auntie Morgana was beheaded and slain by King Arthur centuries ago."
"This I know," said Isis, "for I was close by when it happened. What I want to know is do you have any of your aunt's magical powers. Can you resurrect a slain vampire from the dead for example?".
"I have some magical powers," the Vampiress Morgana replied, "but I do not have the power to Resurrect."
The Vampiress Isis sighed.
Then she looked at Morgana, "Thank you for your time."
The Vampiress Isis bowed and then opened the hotel room door where she saw Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell standing there.
"Have we not met before?" Isis asked.
"I believe we spent a delightful evening last Boxing Day over champagne and caviar on the French Riviera discussing the writer Oscar Wilde and the painter Dante Gabriel Rossetti," Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell answered.
"Indeed, we did," Isis smiled, "we must do that again soon."
She then walked down the hall and pressed the elevator button.
Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell then entered the Vampiress Morgana's hotel room where he broke the bad news to her.
Morgana burst into tears.
* * *
Upon exiting the hotel, Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell wrapped his coat tightly around himself because of the wet London evening drizzle now falling.
He looked up and recognized someone.
It was Renfield R. Renfield.
"Excuse me," Heathcliff tried to get past the shapeshifting hamster/human because he had been nothing but trouble for Mr. Dionysus Campbell in the past.
"Do you recognize this person?" Renfield held up a photo.
Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell put on his gold-wire rimmed glasses and looked at the photo.
"It's Stryker," Heathcliff replied, "the most obnoxious of the clients I manage."
"I thought you might know him," Renfield grinned an evil grin, "you know a lot of musicians."
"Being in the music and recording business I naturally would," Heathcliff harrumphed with an irritated lisp.
"I came across this man's photo on the cover of an entertainment magazine earlier today," Renfield explained, "in fact the same magazine where I ripped out this photo which seemed to upset the shopkeeper Mr. Patel for some reason. He demanded that I pay the cost of the full price of the magazine. Finally I was forced to shoot him after he threatened to call the police."
"Why are you interested in this Stryker?" Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell took out a handkerchief and began wiping raindrops off his glasses.
"I recognized the fellow right away," Renfield seethed, "he was the one who swiped the last tuna fish sandwich off a plate at an upscale party I was at 2 years ago just before I could get to it myself. I swore revenge if I ever came across him again."
"What do you plan to do to him?" Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell put his glasses back on and blinked at the shapeshifter.
"Kill him," Renfield answered.
"This is my lucky day," Heathcliff thought to himself and then he said aloud to Renfield, "What's in it for me if I take you to him?".
"I won't kill you," Renfield laughed.
"I feel like dying these days anyways," Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell shrugged, "you'll have to do better than threats if you want me to help you."
"All right, I'll pay you thirty thousand pounds if you take me to him," Renfield said.
"Show me the money," Heathcliff held out his palm.
Renfield went to a nearby bank's ATM cash machine and using his employer the billionaire ancient Egyptian Vampire Set's debit card positively emptied the bank's cash machine out of thirty thousand pound notes.
Renfield and Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell then took a taxi to the nightclub where Stryker was having his post-concert orgy.
Meanwhile noted American actor Charlie Sheen walked up to the bank's ATM cash machine and inserted his debit card.
Then he started swearing it, "I can't believe it. This @#%^&*!*@ machine is out of @#%^!*@ cash."
* * *
"All right," Heathcliff spoke to Renfield, "at these orgies, there are a lot of guys and even a few girls who like to dress up as Stryker. Wait 5 minutes and then come in and I'll direct you to the real one."
"How will I know the real one?" Renfield asked.
Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell whispered inside Renfield's ear.
Renfield grimaced but nodded.
* * *
Stryker was seated at a table surrounded by an adoring group of short skirted and mini dress wearing teen-aged groupies.
Stryker opened a plastic bag of cocaine and passed it around saying, "This is my body which is given for you. Snort this in remembrance of me."
The girls took the bag and shoved some of the cocaine up their respective noses.
Then Stryker opened the cap off a beer bottle with his teeth and passed the bottle of beer around saying, "This is my blood (my golden blood!) of the newest and most irrevocable covenant which is shed for you and for many for the mother of all orgasms."
Each girl took a sip of the beer and had a multiple orgasm as she did so.
Renfield entered the nightclub.
Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell went up to Stryker and kissed him on the lips.
"Dionysus," Stryker looked at Heathcliff, "dost thou betray the Son of Belial with a kiss?".
Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell's face turned crimson.
"What thou doest, do quickly," Stryker slit a girl's throat and drank her blood.
Heathcliff Dionyus Campbell ran to the washroom and hung a roll of toilet paper over the seat and sat down and blew his nose.
And Renfield R. Renfield moved in for the kill.
To be continued.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
King Arthur and The Vampire Horus
As Arthur walked back towards his tent, he noticed a small fire burning on a distant hill.
Curious, he decided to investigate.
He firmly grasped his sword Excalibur as he climbed the hill.
Arthur crouched behind a tree as he gazed at the fire.
He recognized the being standing there from illustrations he had seen in a book in Merlin's library.
It was the Egyptian vampire Horus who had been resurrected from the dead by the sorceress Morgana.
Arthur stepped forward into the moonlight and the fire's glow.
"Mortal," the Vampire Horus spat at the King of the Britons with contempt, "do you not know who I am?".
"Thou art Horus," Arthur withdrew his sword from his sheath.
"A sword?" Horus laughed uproariously, "It will take more than a mere sword to kill me."
"THIS is no mere sword," Arthur pressed his sword against the vampire's heart, "THIS is Excalibur!".
He drove the sword into the vampire's heart.
Horus screamed and then collapsed into dust.
Arthur walked on to the direction of another tent.
He walked into the tent.
There on the floor of the tent was the beautiful and enchanting Morgana.
Arthur looked down.
He had loved this woman once. In fact, he had had a child with her.
Mordred.
Unknown to Arthur, Morgana had had another child of Arthur's. A girl. One she had sent to Ireland for safekeeping.
Arthur knew what he must do.
He raised his sword and cut off the lovely head of the exquisite raven haired beauty.
Then he kissed the head and sadly walked back to his camp.
* * *
The Vampiress Isis shrieked when she saw her son Horus once again reduced to dust.
Hurriedly she gathered up the dust in an urn and ran to Morgana's tent so that the powerful sorceress could resurrect him once again.
She shrieked when she saw Morgana dead. Her beautiful head turning the floor of the tent a lovely crimson red.
"Arthur has done this," Isis screamed.
* * *
Isis turned into a bat and flew into Arthur's tent.
When inside, she removed his sword Excalibur and took it with her into the night where she hid it in a forest.
"Let us see how Arthur performs in battle tomorrow without his Excalibur," Isis laughed.
Arthur did not perform so well.
He did manage to fatally wound Mordred.
But alas, Mordred managed to fatally wound Arthur as well.
* * *
April 20th, 1889.
The day was chilly and overcast in the Austrian town of Braunau am Inn.
On this day, a baby boy was born to Klara the wife of Alois.
The baby was born on Holy Saturday the day between Good Friday and Easter Sunday.
Outside the house, the spirit of the dead vampire Horus walked the Earth.
He felt drawn to this location for some reason.
How Horus wished he had a body.
Horus' ghost looked and there stood the Norse vampire Odin (very recognizable by his one eye) known to the Germans as Wotan outside the same house.
Curious, Horus thought.
All sorts of creatures of the night and of the shadows and of the Underworld feel drawn to this location on this Holy Saturday night.
Holy Saturday.
The day between Good Friday and Easter Sunday.
Holy Saturday when Christ's Body was in the bowels of the earth and His Soul was in Hades.
A Saturday that marked the Saturday when this world was without Christ's presence- a child was born.
A child that would be named Adolf Hitler.
And Horus' ghost and the Vampire Wotan had come to pay their respects.
* * *
To be continued.
Curious, he decided to investigate.
He firmly grasped his sword Excalibur as he climbed the hill.
Arthur crouched behind a tree as he gazed at the fire.
He recognized the being standing there from illustrations he had seen in a book in Merlin's library.
It was the Egyptian vampire Horus who had been resurrected from the dead by the sorceress Morgana.
Arthur stepped forward into the moonlight and the fire's glow.
"Mortal," the Vampire Horus spat at the King of the Britons with contempt, "do you not know who I am?".
"Thou art Horus," Arthur withdrew his sword from his sheath.
"A sword?" Horus laughed uproariously, "It will take more than a mere sword to kill me."
"THIS is no mere sword," Arthur pressed his sword against the vampire's heart, "THIS is Excalibur!".
He drove the sword into the vampire's heart.
Horus screamed and then collapsed into dust.
Arthur walked on to the direction of another tent.
He walked into the tent.
There on the floor of the tent was the beautiful and enchanting Morgana.
Arthur looked down.
He had loved this woman once. In fact, he had had a child with her.
Mordred.
Unknown to Arthur, Morgana had had another child of Arthur's. A girl. One she had sent to Ireland for safekeeping.
Arthur knew what he must do.
He raised his sword and cut off the lovely head of the exquisite raven haired beauty.
Then he kissed the head and sadly walked back to his camp.
* * *
The Vampiress Isis shrieked when she saw her son Horus once again reduced to dust.
Hurriedly she gathered up the dust in an urn and ran to Morgana's tent so that the powerful sorceress could resurrect him once again.
She shrieked when she saw Morgana dead. Her beautiful head turning the floor of the tent a lovely crimson red.
"Arthur has done this," Isis screamed.
* * *
Isis turned into a bat and flew into Arthur's tent.
When inside, she removed his sword Excalibur and took it with her into the night where she hid it in a forest.
"Let us see how Arthur performs in battle tomorrow without his Excalibur," Isis laughed.
Arthur did not perform so well.
He did manage to fatally wound Mordred.
But alas, Mordred managed to fatally wound Arthur as well.
* * *
April 20th, 1889.
The day was chilly and overcast in the Austrian town of Braunau am Inn.
On this day, a baby boy was born to Klara the wife of Alois.
The baby was born on Holy Saturday the day between Good Friday and Easter Sunday.
Outside the house, the spirit of the dead vampire Horus walked the Earth.
He felt drawn to this location for some reason.
How Horus wished he had a body.
Horus' ghost looked and there stood the Norse vampire Odin (very recognizable by his one eye) known to the Germans as Wotan outside the same house.
Curious, Horus thought.
All sorts of creatures of the night and of the shadows and of the Underworld feel drawn to this location on this Holy Saturday night.
Holy Saturday.
The day between Good Friday and Easter Sunday.
Holy Saturday when Christ's Body was in the bowels of the earth and His Soul was in Hades.
A Saturday that marked the Saturday when this world was without Christ's presence- a child was born.
A child that would be named Adolf Hitler.
And Horus' ghost and the Vampire Wotan had come to pay their respects.
* * *
To be continued.
Monday, April 18, 2011
Sunset Over Camelot
"What news, Lancelot?" KIng Arthur asked his most fearless knight.
"Many brave knights were lost, my liege," Lancelot noted, "Mordred now controls most of the countryside."
"But Mordred would have gone nowhere without Morgana's help," Arthur looked at the sunset which seemed to be setting both literally and metaphorically on Camelot.
"How did Morgana achieve such power?" Lancelot queried.
"Morgana always had great magical powers," said Arthur, "her magical powers were so great that she was able to resurrect the Egyptian vampire Horus whose dust and ashly remains were brought to her from Egypt. It was Horus' advice given to Mordred that led to his great military victories. Mordred would have been able to achieve nothing on his own."
"In Merlin's library, there was a story that the Vampire Horus had been staked and killed," Lancelot recalled.
"Indeed," Arthur nodded, "he was killed with a wooden spear through the heart wielded by the great Roman general Pompey the Great in 48 BC. It was that particular action of Pompey's that led Horus' mother the Vampiress Isis to throw her support behind Julius Caesar in the Roman civil war."
"And now the Resurrected Horus' support of Mordred will lead to the demise of Camelot by the looks of it," Lancelot looked sadly at the golden spires of the magical city in the distance.
"Sadly on this Earth, it is often the case that all good things come to an end," Arthur walked wearily back to his tent.
To be continued.
"Many brave knights were lost, my liege," Lancelot noted, "Mordred now controls most of the countryside."
"But Mordred would have gone nowhere without Morgana's help," Arthur looked at the sunset which seemed to be setting both literally and metaphorically on Camelot.
"How did Morgana achieve such power?" Lancelot queried.
"Morgana always had great magical powers," said Arthur, "her magical powers were so great that she was able to resurrect the Egyptian vampire Horus whose dust and ashly remains were brought to her from Egypt. It was Horus' advice given to Mordred that led to his great military victories. Mordred would have been able to achieve nothing on his own."
"In Merlin's library, there was a story that the Vampire Horus had been staked and killed," Lancelot recalled.
"Indeed," Arthur nodded, "he was killed with a wooden spear through the heart wielded by the great Roman general Pompey the Great in 48 BC. It was that particular action of Pompey's that led Horus' mother the Vampiress Isis to throw her support behind Julius Caesar in the Roman civil war."
"And now the Resurrected Horus' support of Mordred will lead to the demise of Camelot by the looks of it," Lancelot looked sadly at the golden spires of the magical city in the distance.
"Sadly on this Earth, it is often the case that all good things come to an end," Arthur walked wearily back to his tent.
To be continued.
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Goo and Gum and Gnashing of Teeth
Renfield R. Renfield and Amadeus Emanon are watching the BBC News on television.
"More on our main story on the death of financier Trevor Fontaine later," the BBC News announcer intoned, "but in other news a body that was found in the street below the hotel where Mr. Fontaine was eaten by grey goo self-replicating nanobots has now been identified. The body that was apparently drained of all its blood has been identified as that of London's notorious Russian Mafia hitman Dmitri Ibumpuov. Further reports suggest that the night after Mr. Ibumpuov was brought into the Scotland Yard morgue, the body mysteriously disappeared. There are rumours that Mr. Ibumpuov is now a vampire."
"Wow, a vampire assassin," Amadeus Emanon munched on his popcorn.
"Might come in handy some day," Renfield sent a text message to the Assassins For Hire On-Line Employment Bulletin Board that said, "Anybody there called Dmitri Ibumpuov?".
"Getting back to our main story, authorities still have no idea who created the grey goo self-replicating nanobots that ate Mr. Fontaine," the BBC announcer said, "and whether it was part of a plot to stop the new global currency that Mr. Fontaine was working on. As for the grey goo self-replicating nanobots themselves, they apparently choked to death trying to eat a huge wad of bubble gum that had been left on the hotel hallway carpet."
"So it looks like the nanobots you made weren't so indestructible after all," Amadeus remarked as he blew a huge bubble with his bubble gum.
"Harrumph," Renfield snorted.
"And still in other news, eccentric London concert pianist Amadeus Emanon somehow inadvertently wandered into a press conference where the Prince of Wales was lamenting the tragic death of financier Trevor Fontaine... here are some clips from that..."
"You were at a press conference with the Prince of Wales?" Renfield's ears turned fiery red, "you never told me that."
On the screen,
Amadeus Emanon: Tell me your Highness, if you found out who it was that created the grey goo self-replicating nanobots that ate Mr. Fontaine, would you invite such a person to your son Prince William's wedding?
Prince Charles: You must be joking. I didn't quite catch your name Mr. ...?
"Emanon," Amadeus replied.
"Emanon," the prince nodded, "and what news outlet are you with?".
"The Shapeshifting Hamster's Daily Toilet Paper," Amadeus answered with a wry smile.
"Never heard of that," said the Prince of Wales, "I'll have to check it out sometime. But in answer to your question, no. Not only would the individual who created these grey goo self-replicating nanobots not be invited to my son's wedding but I would personally see to it that this individual was personally hung, drawn and quartered."
Renfield looked at the TV screen- in a total state of shock- his face completely drained of all colour.
"In other news," the BBC News Announcer smiled, "Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II has bestowed a posthumous honourary knighthood on Frank Henry Fleer the world's first inventor of bubble gum..."
To be continued.
"More on our main story on the death of financier Trevor Fontaine later," the BBC News announcer intoned, "but in other news a body that was found in the street below the hotel where Mr. Fontaine was eaten by grey goo self-replicating nanobots has now been identified. The body that was apparently drained of all its blood has been identified as that of London's notorious Russian Mafia hitman Dmitri Ibumpuov. Further reports suggest that the night after Mr. Ibumpuov was brought into the Scotland Yard morgue, the body mysteriously disappeared. There are rumours that Mr. Ibumpuov is now a vampire."
"Wow, a vampire assassin," Amadeus Emanon munched on his popcorn.
"Might come in handy some day," Renfield sent a text message to the Assassins For Hire On-Line Employment Bulletin Board that said, "Anybody there called Dmitri Ibumpuov?".
"Getting back to our main story, authorities still have no idea who created the grey goo self-replicating nanobots that ate Mr. Fontaine," the BBC announcer said, "and whether it was part of a plot to stop the new global currency that Mr. Fontaine was working on. As for the grey goo self-replicating nanobots themselves, they apparently choked to death trying to eat a huge wad of bubble gum that had been left on the hotel hallway carpet."
"So it looks like the nanobots you made weren't so indestructible after all," Amadeus remarked as he blew a huge bubble with his bubble gum.
"Harrumph," Renfield snorted.
"And still in other news, eccentric London concert pianist Amadeus Emanon somehow inadvertently wandered into a press conference where the Prince of Wales was lamenting the tragic death of financier Trevor Fontaine... here are some clips from that..."
"You were at a press conference with the Prince of Wales?" Renfield's ears turned fiery red, "you never told me that."
On the screen,
Amadeus Emanon: Tell me your Highness, if you found out who it was that created the grey goo self-replicating nanobots that ate Mr. Fontaine, would you invite such a person to your son Prince William's wedding?
Prince Charles: You must be joking. I didn't quite catch your name Mr. ...?
"Emanon," Amadeus replied.
"Emanon," the prince nodded, "and what news outlet are you with?".
"The Shapeshifting Hamster's Daily Toilet Paper," Amadeus answered with a wry smile.
"Never heard of that," said the Prince of Wales, "I'll have to check it out sometime. But in answer to your question, no. Not only would the individual who created these grey goo self-replicating nanobots not be invited to my son's wedding but I would personally see to it that this individual was personally hung, drawn and quartered."
Renfield looked at the TV screen- in a total state of shock- his face completely drained of all colour.
"In other news," the BBC News Announcer smiled, "Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II has bestowed a posthumous honourary knighthood on Frank Henry Fleer the world's first inventor of bubble gum..."
To be continued.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Trevor Fontaine and The New Global Currency
Trevor Fontaine felt pleased with himself as he had a glass of champagne in his London hotel room.
He had had a meeting today with several important London financiers.
Tomorrow he would fly home to Paris the home of his company Giza Investments Ltd.
Actually it really wasn't his company.
It belonged to the Egyptian Vampiress Isis.
But he was the front man for Isis in the world of finance.
This past weekend in Bretton Woods, New Hampshire, Fontaine had met with George Soros and other global movers and shakers in the world of finance, industry and government to set the groundwork for a new global currency.
It was this project- an idea highly favoured by his boss the Vampiress Isis- that had led to the stay over in London to brief various important City of London financiers about the project.
* * *
In another hotel room a few blocks away, Prince Suleiman bin Turki of the House of Saud who was 1,666th in line to the Saudi Arabian throne was making plans.
Well Prince Suleiman bin Turki of the House of Saud was always making plans.
He had spent the past two years plotting and trying to figure out how to get rid of the 1,665 people in front of him to the throne.
But now something else had occupied his mind.
He became aware of this new project to establish a new global currency.
But Prince Suleiman bin Turki's plans for seizing the Saudi throne entailed the U.S. dollar remaining the de facto global currency for the next 5 years.
If a new global currency were introduced before then, this might upset his plans to become King of Saudi Arabia and ultimately the Caliph of the entire Islamic world.
Allah knew that Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad already had it in his own mind to become the Caliph of the entire Islamic world.
But it was Prince Suleiman's destiny to become Caliph not Ahmadinejad's or at least so the megalomaniacal Saudi prince figured in his own highly inflated egocentric opinion.
And as such, Suleiman determined that he was going to bump off those promoting the idea of a new global currency.
And he would start with Trevor Fontaine the CEO of Paris-based Giza Investments Ltd.
It had come to Prince Suleiman's attention that Trevor Fontaine was in London this evening.
And so Suleiman had gone to a seedy area of London's Soho District to track down an expert assassin and gunman for London's local branch of the worldwide Russian Mafia.
Dmitri Ibumpuov had been easy to find provided you knew which palms to grease with the current de facto global currency.
After paying Ibumpuov half up-front for the job (the other half would be paid when the job was completed) and giving a photo and the location of the target Trevor Fontaine, Prince Suleiman went back to his own hotel room and started greasing his own palms while he looked at decadent western on-line porn sites of various beautiful women in interesting positions- something he was unable to do in his own native Saudi Arabia.
* * *
Trevor Fontaine sat on the sofa in his suite laughing his head off at an on-line commentary written by U.S. political commentator Glenn Beck.
Suddenly the door was kicked open and a man burst into the room shooting several bullets directly at him.
"You're not... dead?" the man with a Russian accent stammered in English.
"No, I'm a vampire," Fontaine smiled and then proceeded to bite the man on the neck draining him of all his blood.
He then opened the window and threw the body down into the street.
"It's a rather difficult thing to kill me," Fontaine laughed while looking down at the body, "tonight is not my night to die."
Those were Fontaine's last words before he was attacked by grey goo self-replicating nanobots who ate the vampire alive.
* * *
"Eureka! Vengeance is mine!" Renfield R. Renfield laughed with hearty abandon.
"What's up?" Amadeus looked up from the peanut butter and jelly sandwich he was eating.
"Well remember that fellow Charles Simeon who stole my tuna fish sandwiches two Fridays ago?" Renfield asked, "And how someone killed him before I had the chance to kill him?".
"Frankly, you've never stopped yacking about it," Amadeus tried his best to do a Clark Gable Rhett Butler impersonation with his mouth full of peanut butter.
"Well I found out who Charles Simeon worked for," Renfield helped himself to a freshly made tuna fish sandwich, "it was Trevor Fontaine the CEO of Giza Investments Ltd. And I found out Mr. Fontaine was staying in a hotel here in London and so all those grey goo self-replicating nanobots I created in the lab last night I sent to Fontaine's hotel room earlier this evening and now I've just got a report over the Scotland Yard police radio that Fontaine was eaten alive by them. So I've killed two birds with one stone. I've got my vengeance on the thief who stole my tuna fish sandwiches by killing his employer. And I've proved Prince Charles' theory about grey goo self-replicating nanobots being harmful to be correct. So now Prince Charles will probably invite me to his son's wedding."
* * *
Away from the glare of both the British and French news media, Prince Charles was spending a quiet evening in an exclusive Parisienne cafe in the company of a beautiful woman who was wearing a stylishly and classically elegant gold evening dress.
The woman's name was Isis and unknown to the Prince of Wales, she was a vampiress.
The purpose of the meeting was strictly platonic.
Isis had invited the Prince to discuss an article Trevor Fontaine had written in favour of a new global currency for the Council On Foreign Relations' Foreign Affairs Magazine.
"An excellent article," the Prince of Wales said, "I would like to meet its author in person. I really would. This gives me some ideas I'd like to discuss with my country's Prime Minister David Cameron."
At that moment, the cafe owner turned up the volume of the cafe's TV which was set to CNN.
The story was about how Giza Investments Ltd. CEO Trevor Fontaine was eaten alive by grey goo self-replicating nanobots in a London hotel room.
The Vampiress Isis immediately excused herself and ran hurriedly from the cafe in her clicking spiked stiletto high-heeled shoes.
Once outside in the Paris night air, she emitted a nocturnal scream that seemed to shake the Eiffel Tower itself.
For the man, who in addition to being her front man in the world of finance, was able to successfully channel the spirit of her dead son Horus was now himself dead.
To be continued.
He had had a meeting today with several important London financiers.
Tomorrow he would fly home to Paris the home of his company Giza Investments Ltd.
Actually it really wasn't his company.
It belonged to the Egyptian Vampiress Isis.
But he was the front man for Isis in the world of finance.
This past weekend in Bretton Woods, New Hampshire, Fontaine had met with George Soros and other global movers and shakers in the world of finance, industry and government to set the groundwork for a new global currency.
It was this project- an idea highly favoured by his boss the Vampiress Isis- that had led to the stay over in London to brief various important City of London financiers about the project.
* * *
In another hotel room a few blocks away, Prince Suleiman bin Turki of the House of Saud who was 1,666th in line to the Saudi Arabian throne was making plans.
Well Prince Suleiman bin Turki of the House of Saud was always making plans.
He had spent the past two years plotting and trying to figure out how to get rid of the 1,665 people in front of him to the throne.
But now something else had occupied his mind.
He became aware of this new project to establish a new global currency.
But Prince Suleiman bin Turki's plans for seizing the Saudi throne entailed the U.S. dollar remaining the de facto global currency for the next 5 years.
If a new global currency were introduced before then, this might upset his plans to become King of Saudi Arabia and ultimately the Caliph of the entire Islamic world.
Allah knew that Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad already had it in his own mind to become the Caliph of the entire Islamic world.
But it was Prince Suleiman's destiny to become Caliph not Ahmadinejad's or at least so the megalomaniacal Saudi prince figured in his own highly inflated egocentric opinion.
And as such, Suleiman determined that he was going to bump off those promoting the idea of a new global currency.
And he would start with Trevor Fontaine the CEO of Paris-based Giza Investments Ltd.
It had come to Prince Suleiman's attention that Trevor Fontaine was in London this evening.
And so Suleiman had gone to a seedy area of London's Soho District to track down an expert assassin and gunman for London's local branch of the worldwide Russian Mafia.
Dmitri Ibumpuov had been easy to find provided you knew which palms to grease with the current de facto global currency.
After paying Ibumpuov half up-front for the job (the other half would be paid when the job was completed) and giving a photo and the location of the target Trevor Fontaine, Prince Suleiman went back to his own hotel room and started greasing his own palms while he looked at decadent western on-line porn sites of various beautiful women in interesting positions- something he was unable to do in his own native Saudi Arabia.
* * *
Trevor Fontaine sat on the sofa in his suite laughing his head off at an on-line commentary written by U.S. political commentator Glenn Beck.
Suddenly the door was kicked open and a man burst into the room shooting several bullets directly at him.
"You're not... dead?" the man with a Russian accent stammered in English.
"No, I'm a vampire," Fontaine smiled and then proceeded to bite the man on the neck draining him of all his blood.
He then opened the window and threw the body down into the street.
"It's a rather difficult thing to kill me," Fontaine laughed while looking down at the body, "tonight is not my night to die."
Those were Fontaine's last words before he was attacked by grey goo self-replicating nanobots who ate the vampire alive.
* * *
"Eureka! Vengeance is mine!" Renfield R. Renfield laughed with hearty abandon.
"What's up?" Amadeus looked up from the peanut butter and jelly sandwich he was eating.
"Well remember that fellow Charles Simeon who stole my tuna fish sandwiches two Fridays ago?" Renfield asked, "And how someone killed him before I had the chance to kill him?".
"Frankly, you've never stopped yacking about it," Amadeus tried his best to do a Clark Gable Rhett Butler impersonation with his mouth full of peanut butter.
"Well I found out who Charles Simeon worked for," Renfield helped himself to a freshly made tuna fish sandwich, "it was Trevor Fontaine the CEO of Giza Investments Ltd. And I found out Mr. Fontaine was staying in a hotel here in London and so all those grey goo self-replicating nanobots I created in the lab last night I sent to Fontaine's hotel room earlier this evening and now I've just got a report over the Scotland Yard police radio that Fontaine was eaten alive by them. So I've killed two birds with one stone. I've got my vengeance on the thief who stole my tuna fish sandwiches by killing his employer. And I've proved Prince Charles' theory about grey goo self-replicating nanobots being harmful to be correct. So now Prince Charles will probably invite me to his son's wedding."
* * *
Away from the glare of both the British and French news media, Prince Charles was spending a quiet evening in an exclusive Parisienne cafe in the company of a beautiful woman who was wearing a stylishly and classically elegant gold evening dress.
The woman's name was Isis and unknown to the Prince of Wales, she was a vampiress.
The purpose of the meeting was strictly platonic.
Isis had invited the Prince to discuss an article Trevor Fontaine had written in favour of a new global currency for the Council On Foreign Relations' Foreign Affairs Magazine.
"An excellent article," the Prince of Wales said, "I would like to meet its author in person. I really would. This gives me some ideas I'd like to discuss with my country's Prime Minister David Cameron."
At that moment, the cafe owner turned up the volume of the cafe's TV which was set to CNN.
The story was about how Giza Investments Ltd. CEO Trevor Fontaine was eaten alive by grey goo self-replicating nanobots in a London hotel room.
The Vampiress Isis immediately excused herself and ran hurriedly from the cafe in her clicking spiked stiletto high-heeled shoes.
Once outside in the Paris night air, she emitted a nocturnal scream that seemed to shake the Eiffel Tower itself.
For the man, who in addition to being her front man in the world of finance, was able to successfully channel the spirit of her dead son Horus was now himself dead.
To be continued.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Grey Goo Self-Replicating Nanobots
Amadeus Emanon carefully observed what Renfield R. Renfield was doing in the Set Enterprises Lab.
He decided he had no idea what it was exactly the evil shapeshifting human/hamster was doing.
So he decided to ask him.
"What are you doing, Renfield?" Amadeus asked.
"I'm creating some grey goo self-replicating nano-robots or as some people call them grey goo self-replicating nanobots for short," Renfield replied.
"I see," Amadeus took another bite of his hot fudge sundae, "but why?".
"Well as you know, I've been trying to get an invitation to attend Prince William and Kate Middleton's wedding but as you no doubt have sadly observed I've failed in all my attempts to get one," said Renfield.
"Well actually I've observed that but not in a sad fashion," Amadeus stated in a remark that seemed to piss off Renfield judging from the expression on his face, "so how is creating grey goo self-replicating nanobots going to help you get an invitation to the Royal Wedding?".
"Well shortly after the start of this century, Prince Charles gave a speech to a group of scientists in which he said that it was his fear that the world might be destroyed by grey goo self-replicating nanobots," Renfield explained, "he was immediately laughed at by the scientists and was heavily ridiculed in the press. Some even went so far as to say that the prince was off his rocker."
Renfield showed Amadeus a video of Prince Charles falling off his rocking horse while playing polo in the midst of a group of toy soldiers.
"Now if I can create some grey goo self-replicating nanobots and let them loose somewhere," Renfield grinned, "this will show the world that the Prince of Wales was right in his warning and His Royal Highness will ask Will and Kate to send me an invitation to their wedding."
"I don't know what to say to that," Amadeus looked at Renfield in a stunned fashion.
The heavens must have already had their opinion because seconds later Renfield fell off his rocking chair.
To be continued.
He decided he had no idea what it was exactly the evil shapeshifting human/hamster was doing.
So he decided to ask him.
"What are you doing, Renfield?" Amadeus asked.
"I'm creating some grey goo self-replicating nano-robots or as some people call them grey goo self-replicating nanobots for short," Renfield replied.
"I see," Amadeus took another bite of his hot fudge sundae, "but why?".
"Well as you know, I've been trying to get an invitation to attend Prince William and Kate Middleton's wedding but as you no doubt have sadly observed I've failed in all my attempts to get one," said Renfield.
"Well actually I've observed that but not in a sad fashion," Amadeus stated in a remark that seemed to piss off Renfield judging from the expression on his face, "so how is creating grey goo self-replicating nanobots going to help you get an invitation to the Royal Wedding?".
"Well shortly after the start of this century, Prince Charles gave a speech to a group of scientists in which he said that it was his fear that the world might be destroyed by grey goo self-replicating nanobots," Renfield explained, "he was immediately laughed at by the scientists and was heavily ridiculed in the press. Some even went so far as to say that the prince was off his rocker."
Renfield showed Amadeus a video of Prince Charles falling off his rocking horse while playing polo in the midst of a group of toy soldiers.
"Now if I can create some grey goo self-replicating nanobots and let them loose somewhere," Renfield grinned, "this will show the world that the Prince of Wales was right in his warning and His Royal Highness will ask Will and Kate to send me an invitation to their wedding."
"I don't know what to say to that," Amadeus looked at Renfield in a stunned fashion.
The heavens must have already had their opinion because seconds later Renfield fell off his rocking chair.
To be continued.
Monday, April 11, 2011
The Renfield Rap Song
My name is Renfield
so ya better yield
I'm a shapeshifter
with hamster whisker
work for a vampire called Set
so you better get
you think today's Hell on Earth
you ain't seen nothing yet.
I'm the coolest guy I know
feel free to bask
in my afterglow.
I want an invite to Prince William's wedding
as well as soft sheets for my bedding.
For sandwiches I like tuna
I'll knife but not spoon ya.
Better dead than red
though that be the colour
that you bled.
Some folks think I'm a psychopath
killed my teacher when I flunked math
now I may not know the square root of pi
but I sure as Hell know how to make you die.
Now Amadeus thinks I don't know how to rap
but I say to him, "You're full of crap"
This here be my song
Simon Cowell put down that gong
you better not gong me
or you'll be up a tree
with your head hanging down
beneath your knee.
-A rap song written by Renfield R. Renfield
psychopathic shapeshifter hamster
and Chief of Security and Intelligence Gathering
for the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set.
Monday evening April 11th 2011,
so ya better yield
I'm a shapeshifter
with hamster whisker
work for a vampire called Set
so you better get
you think today's Hell on Earth
you ain't seen nothing yet.
I'm the coolest guy I know
feel free to bask
in my afterglow.
I want an invite to Prince William's wedding
as well as soft sheets for my bedding.
For sandwiches I like tuna
I'll knife but not spoon ya.
Better dead than red
though that be the colour
that you bled.
Some folks think I'm a psychopath
killed my teacher when I flunked math
now I may not know the square root of pi
but I sure as Hell know how to make you die.
Now Amadeus thinks I don't know how to rap
but I say to him, "You're full of crap"
This here be my song
Simon Cowell put down that gong
you better not gong me
or you'll be up a tree
with your head hanging down
beneath your knee.
-A rap song written by Renfield R. Renfield
psychopathic shapeshifter hamster
and Chief of Security and Intelligence Gathering
for the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set.
Monday evening April 11th 2011,
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Vengeance Is Best Served... Over Tuna Fish Sandwiches
"Why have you been buried with your head over the computer the past few days?" Amadeus Emanon asked Renfield R. Renfield.
"Because I hacked into the London Zoo's security camera feed to see if I can spot the guy who stole my tuna fish sandwiches last Friday and I spotted him," Renfield said, "he fed my sandwiches to Siegfried the Seal."
"Siegfried the Seal?" Amadeus looked quizzical, "isn't he the one whose body they reported was hacked into pieces and mailed in a box to the President of Greenpeace with Canadian Prime Minister Stephen Harper's return address on the parcel?".
"Yes, I was the one who cut up Siegfried as punishment for his eating my tuna fish sandwiches," Renfield grinned, "I just thought I'd mail the body to the President of Greenpeace because of my keen sense of fun and to show you that I do have a sense of humour which you say I lack. I used the Canadian Prime Minister's address since Canada and Greenpeace have been at loggerheads for decades over the Canadian baby seal hunt."
"So since the seal is dead," Amadeus said, "why are you still on the computer?".
"I killed the accomplice after the fact Siegfried the Seal but I still haven't got the original culprit," Renfield explained, "I'm trying to correlate the visual image I have of the tuna fish sandwich thief with visual images of other people in the worldwide computer data base. Given that there are over 6 billion people on Earth, it's kind of taking a while."
"It would," Amadeus remarked as he ate some Nestle chocolate covered Smarties.
"Eureka, I've got him, Charles Simeon," Renfield beamed with almost a post-orgasmic glow to him.
"So this Simeon's days will now be numbered," Amadeus started counting the number of Smarties he had left in his package.
"Oh, fuck me senseless, no!" Renfield screamed.
"Sorry, I'm not sexually oriented that way to grant your request," Amadeus replied.
"It's not that," Renfield cried, "somebody's beat me to it. Charles Simeon has been identified by his DNA as the person who was found cut up in tiny pieces on a warehouse floor last Saturday morning Scotland Yard's forensic lab has just announced."
"He must have stolen somebody else's tuna fish sandwiches too," Amadeus wrestled with the Vampire Set's pet parakeet for sole possession of the last remaining Smartie.
"I'll kill the bastard who killed him," Renfield vowed, "how dare someone rob me of my vengeance?".
Amadeus managed to eat the sole remaining Smartie, "Do the police have any leads on who might have killed the tuna fish snatching Mr. Simeon?".
"And now the monks of Mirfield's Community of The Resurrection choir will sing in Latin the Nunc Dimittis..." the BBC Radio 3 announcer intoned.
"They've got here two police artist sketches of two possible suspects," Renfield replied, "one looks like Mr. Bean and the other looks like Freddy Krueger."
"That's bizarre," Amadeus dipped a black licorice stick into some potato chip dip and started eating it.
Renfield went over to a drawer and pulled out his kit of medieval torture instruments.
"What are you doing with those?" Amadeus asked.
"I'm going to be paying a little visit to two different actors," Renfield chuckled, "one to actor Rowan Atkinson who plays Mr. Bean and the other to actor Robert Englund who played Freddy Krueger in the original Nightmare On Elm Street movies."
Renfield took his kit and walked out into the dark and foggy London night.
"May God have mercy on their souls," Amadeus made the Sign of the Cross.
To be continued.
"Because I hacked into the London Zoo's security camera feed to see if I can spot the guy who stole my tuna fish sandwiches last Friday and I spotted him," Renfield said, "he fed my sandwiches to Siegfried the Seal."
"Siegfried the Seal?" Amadeus looked quizzical, "isn't he the one whose body they reported was hacked into pieces and mailed in a box to the President of Greenpeace with Canadian Prime Minister Stephen Harper's return address on the parcel?".
"Yes, I was the one who cut up Siegfried as punishment for his eating my tuna fish sandwiches," Renfield grinned, "I just thought I'd mail the body to the President of Greenpeace because of my keen sense of fun and to show you that I do have a sense of humour which you say I lack. I used the Canadian Prime Minister's address since Canada and Greenpeace have been at loggerheads for decades over the Canadian baby seal hunt."
"So since the seal is dead," Amadeus said, "why are you still on the computer?".
"I killed the accomplice after the fact Siegfried the Seal but I still haven't got the original culprit," Renfield explained, "I'm trying to correlate the visual image I have of the tuna fish sandwich thief with visual images of other people in the worldwide computer data base. Given that there are over 6 billion people on Earth, it's kind of taking a while."
"It would," Amadeus remarked as he ate some Nestle chocolate covered Smarties.
"Eureka, I've got him, Charles Simeon," Renfield beamed with almost a post-orgasmic glow to him.
"So this Simeon's days will now be numbered," Amadeus started counting the number of Smarties he had left in his package.
"Oh, fuck me senseless, no!" Renfield screamed.
"Sorry, I'm not sexually oriented that way to grant your request," Amadeus replied.
"It's not that," Renfield cried, "somebody's beat me to it. Charles Simeon has been identified by his DNA as the person who was found cut up in tiny pieces on a warehouse floor last Saturday morning Scotland Yard's forensic lab has just announced."
"He must have stolen somebody else's tuna fish sandwiches too," Amadeus wrestled with the Vampire Set's pet parakeet for sole possession of the last remaining Smartie.
"I'll kill the bastard who killed him," Renfield vowed, "how dare someone rob me of my vengeance?".
Amadeus managed to eat the sole remaining Smartie, "Do the police have any leads on who might have killed the tuna fish snatching Mr. Simeon?".
"And now the monks of Mirfield's Community of The Resurrection choir will sing in Latin the Nunc Dimittis..." the BBC Radio 3 announcer intoned.
"They've got here two police artist sketches of two possible suspects," Renfield replied, "one looks like Mr. Bean and the other looks like Freddy Krueger."
"That's bizarre," Amadeus dipped a black licorice stick into some potato chip dip and started eating it.
Renfield went over to a drawer and pulled out his kit of medieval torture instruments.
"What are you doing with those?" Amadeus asked.
"I'm going to be paying a little visit to two different actors," Renfield chuckled, "one to actor Rowan Atkinson who plays Mr. Bean and the other to actor Robert Englund who played Freddy Krueger in the original Nightmare On Elm Street movies."
Renfield took his kit and walked out into the dark and foggy London night.
"May God have mercy on their souls," Amadeus made the Sign of the Cross.
To be continued.
Friday, April 1, 2011
The Prize
Charles Simeon was an accountant.
He liked to joke that line from that old Monty Python sketch, "I'm a certified public accountant and consequently too boring to be of interest."
Simeon worked as an accountant for Giza Investments Ltd.
Giza Investments Ltd. had for its President a mysterious man by the name of Trevor Fontaine.
Rumour had it that Mr. Fontaine was a vampire.
And that Mr. Fontaine worked for an even more mysterious major shareholder in Giza Investments- a sensuous and sensual vampiress called Isis.
Mr. Fontaine's latest project was working with another multibillionaire investor called George Soros.
The project was to create a new global currency to replace the U.S. dollar.
All this talk of money was starting to make Simeon feel a little leery this Friday.
He was starting to feel sick of number crunching and his dull boring life.
He was paid a good salary sure but he wished he had enough money that he could give up his job and go live in the Bahamas and romp on the beach all day.
Simeon decided to leave work early today.
He left work right at noon and had lunch in an upscale London restaurant where he ate the baked salmon special.
Then he went for a carriage ride around the streets of London pulled by a splendid looking white mare named Norse Dawn.
He decided to spend his afternoon at the world-famous London Zoo.
There he walked by the cage of a seal named Siegfried.
He noticed Siegfried looked hungry and Simeon decided that the zookeepers were being slack and had forgotten to feed the seal.
Simeon looked around.
He happened to notice a brown paper bag that looked like a lunch bag left on one of the public benches,
He went over to the bag, opened it and noticed the bag was full of tuna fish sandwiches.
"I bet Siegfried would love these," Simeon said to himself.
He walked over to the seal's cage and threw him the tuna fish sandwiches.
Meanwhile the owner of the paper bag returned to the bench.
"I'm pretty sure I left my tuna fish sandwiches on this bench," Renfield R. Renfield remarked to Amadeus Emanon, "oh no! They're gone."
"Maybe there's a serial tuna fish sandwich thief on the loose in London," Amadeus remarked between mouthfuls of pink cotton candy.
Simeon meanwhile had left the zoo and was walking home.
He bumped into an elderly woman.
"Oh, I'm terribly sorry," Simeon apologized.
"It's all right, dear," the old woman smiled, "I predict you'll receive wonderful news when you get home today."
She handed him a card that said Mme. Erda Fortune Teller and continued on her way.
Simeon arrived back at his apartment building and took the elevator up to his apartment.
When he entered the apartment, he noticed a fly buzzing around.
"Spring must be here," Simeon thought to himself, "the first fly I've spotted this year."
Simeon killed the fly with a copy of The Times of London.
The fly's blood was nicely smeared over a photo of Libyan leader Col. Gaddafi.
He threw the paper on his chair and was about to sit down when he heard a knock at the door.
Must be one of the neighbours he thought since he didn't get a buzz on the intercom from a visitor downstairs.
He opened the door and standing there was Rowan Atkinson.
"Mr. Bean," Simeon grinned.
"You can call me that, I suppose," Atkinson smiled, "I'm here representing Abbey Lane Publishers Clearance House to inform you that you've won 2 million pounds in our draw today."
"Oh my gosh," Simeon almost fainted.
"Now if you'd like to come down with me to the Publishers Clearance House office, there's a party and dancing girls and a cake and a big cheque waiting for you," Atkinson brought out his teddy bear from underneath his jacket and waved excitedly at Charles Simeon.
"I'll be right there," Simeon ran to get his jacket.
He followed Rowan Atkinson down to the waiting limousine.
The limousine drove Atkinson and Simeon to what appeared to be an old warehouse.
"In there," Atkinson pointed to the door.
Simeon excitedly ran through the door.
He looked around.
Just an empty warehouse.
"Where's the party and the dancing girls and the cake and my big cheque?" Simeon asked Atkinson.
Atkinson smiled his most Mr. Bean-like smile.
"April Fool," Atkinson laughed.
His smile then turned into the leering smile of the face of Freddy Krueger the serial killer from the Nightmare On Elm Street movies.
"What the..." Simeon couldn't finish the sentence because he was slashed to death by Freddy Krueger's razor-sharp unmanicured extra long fingernails.
"The name's Loki," the Freddy Krueger apparition laughed, "you may have heard of me, Loki the Trickster god in Norse mythology. I always was a joker and a jester. Pity everyone got upset when I killed the Norse god Baldr the Beautiful. Anyhow as a trickster and joker and jester, every April Fools Day is my day to shine. I'm also a shapeshifter. Sometimes I can be a salmon, a mare, a seal, an elderly woman or even a fly. And you walked right into my trap... my Venus fly trap."
The warehouse echoed with the sounds of Loki's laughter.
And Charles Simeon number cruncher was found in numerous pieces on the warehouse floor.
And a vacancy for a certified public accountant was now available in vampire investor Trevor Fontaine's Giza Investments firm.
To be continued.
He liked to joke that line from that old Monty Python sketch, "I'm a certified public accountant and consequently too boring to be of interest."
Simeon worked as an accountant for Giza Investments Ltd.
Giza Investments Ltd. had for its President a mysterious man by the name of Trevor Fontaine.
Rumour had it that Mr. Fontaine was a vampire.
And that Mr. Fontaine worked for an even more mysterious major shareholder in Giza Investments- a sensuous and sensual vampiress called Isis.
Mr. Fontaine's latest project was working with another multibillionaire investor called George Soros.
The project was to create a new global currency to replace the U.S. dollar.
All this talk of money was starting to make Simeon feel a little leery this Friday.
He was starting to feel sick of number crunching and his dull boring life.
He was paid a good salary sure but he wished he had enough money that he could give up his job and go live in the Bahamas and romp on the beach all day.
Simeon decided to leave work early today.
He left work right at noon and had lunch in an upscale London restaurant where he ate the baked salmon special.
Then he went for a carriage ride around the streets of London pulled by a splendid looking white mare named Norse Dawn.
He decided to spend his afternoon at the world-famous London Zoo.
There he walked by the cage of a seal named Siegfried.
He noticed Siegfried looked hungry and Simeon decided that the zookeepers were being slack and had forgotten to feed the seal.
Simeon looked around.
He happened to notice a brown paper bag that looked like a lunch bag left on one of the public benches,
He went over to the bag, opened it and noticed the bag was full of tuna fish sandwiches.
"I bet Siegfried would love these," Simeon said to himself.
He walked over to the seal's cage and threw him the tuna fish sandwiches.
Meanwhile the owner of the paper bag returned to the bench.
"I'm pretty sure I left my tuna fish sandwiches on this bench," Renfield R. Renfield remarked to Amadeus Emanon, "oh no! They're gone."
"Maybe there's a serial tuna fish sandwich thief on the loose in London," Amadeus remarked between mouthfuls of pink cotton candy.
Simeon meanwhile had left the zoo and was walking home.
He bumped into an elderly woman.
"Oh, I'm terribly sorry," Simeon apologized.
"It's all right, dear," the old woman smiled, "I predict you'll receive wonderful news when you get home today."
She handed him a card that said Mme. Erda Fortune Teller and continued on her way.
Simeon arrived back at his apartment building and took the elevator up to his apartment.
When he entered the apartment, he noticed a fly buzzing around.
"Spring must be here," Simeon thought to himself, "the first fly I've spotted this year."
Simeon killed the fly with a copy of The Times of London.
The fly's blood was nicely smeared over a photo of Libyan leader Col. Gaddafi.
He threw the paper on his chair and was about to sit down when he heard a knock at the door.
Must be one of the neighbours he thought since he didn't get a buzz on the intercom from a visitor downstairs.
He opened the door and standing there was Rowan Atkinson.
"Mr. Bean," Simeon grinned.
"You can call me that, I suppose," Atkinson smiled, "I'm here representing Abbey Lane Publishers Clearance House to inform you that you've won 2 million pounds in our draw today."
"Oh my gosh," Simeon almost fainted.
"Now if you'd like to come down with me to the Publishers Clearance House office, there's a party and dancing girls and a cake and a big cheque waiting for you," Atkinson brought out his teddy bear from underneath his jacket and waved excitedly at Charles Simeon.
"I'll be right there," Simeon ran to get his jacket.
He followed Rowan Atkinson down to the waiting limousine.
The limousine drove Atkinson and Simeon to what appeared to be an old warehouse.
"In there," Atkinson pointed to the door.
Simeon excitedly ran through the door.
He looked around.
Just an empty warehouse.
"Where's the party and the dancing girls and the cake and my big cheque?" Simeon asked Atkinson.
Atkinson smiled his most Mr. Bean-like smile.
"April Fool," Atkinson laughed.
His smile then turned into the leering smile of the face of Freddy Krueger the serial killer from the Nightmare On Elm Street movies.
"What the..." Simeon couldn't finish the sentence because he was slashed to death by Freddy Krueger's razor-sharp unmanicured extra long fingernails.
"The name's Loki," the Freddy Krueger apparition laughed, "you may have heard of me, Loki the Trickster god in Norse mythology. I always was a joker and a jester. Pity everyone got upset when I killed the Norse god Baldr the Beautiful. Anyhow as a trickster and joker and jester, every April Fools Day is my day to shine. I'm also a shapeshifter. Sometimes I can be a salmon, a mare, a seal, an elderly woman or even a fly. And you walked right into my trap... my Venus fly trap."
The warehouse echoed with the sounds of Loki's laughter.
And Charles Simeon number cruncher was found in numerous pieces on the warehouse floor.
And a vacancy for a certified public accountant was now available in vampire investor Trevor Fontaine's Giza Investments firm.
To be continued.
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