Lunar Vampire In Iran and Werewolf On The Road To Damascus

Interpol's paranormal investigator Peter Whitstable was having a glass of wine with vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing in a Paris cafe.

"So Dracul, did you hear about Renfield R. Renfield stealing a classified document from CIA headquarters in Langley, Virginia?" Whitstable asked.

"I did," Van Helsing nodded.

"And are you aware of the contents of that document?" Whitstable inquired.

"It relates how the Apollo 11 astronauts found a vampire in suspended animation in a coffin on the moon and were ordered by NASA to bring the coffin and vampire back to Earth," Van Helsing answered.

"Do you know what ever became of that vampire?" Whitstable wanted to know, "no one seems to know."

"Well it was aroused from its state of suspended animation and escaped and fled to Iran," Van Helsing replied.

"Iran?" Whitstable's ears perked up, "what happened to it there?".

"It or he if you prefer now serves as an advisor to Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad," Van Helsing stated.

"To Ahmadinejad?" Whistable's jaw dropped.

"Yes, Ahmadinejad believes this vampire is the Imam Mahdi," Van Helsing sipped his wine and gazed through the cafe window at the Eiffel Tower.

"The Twelfth Imam of Shia prophecy?" Whitstable blinked.

"That's right," Van Helsing noticed the Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec standing in a red dress on the Eiffel Tower.

"And what does this vampire posing as the Imam Mahdi want?" Whitstable downed the rest of his wine in a single gulp.

"Nuclear war against Israel and the U.S.," Van Helsing answered.

"Good Lord," Whitstable whispered.



* * *

Welsh werewolf Labour MP Magog Rhys Petley was attending an art show at an exclusive art gallery in London.

Rhys Petley often attended these functions- as an MP he was of course immediately let in- but he did not attend because he was an art connoisseur.

Rather he attended because of the free wine and cheese served at these functions.

Magog Rhys Petley loved wine and cheese.

But he didn't like paying for them.

As Rhys Petley entered the gallery's exclusive entrance he passed a lone Occupy London protestor holding up a sign outside the gallery saying "We are the 1%."

Inside the gallery, Rhys Petley felt an arm on his shoulder.

He turned and was surprised to see that it was Charles Prince of Wales holding a glass of wine and a slice of cheese.

What was Prince Charles doing greeting him?

He Magog Rhys Petley was a staunch republican and rabid anti-monarchist.

"Magog," the Prince smiled.

"Er... your Highness," Rhys Petley blurted, "congratulations on your 63rd birthday."

Prince Charles had just turned 63 this past Monday November 14th.

"Don't remind me of my age," the Prince shook his head, "if I was a common man, I could look forward to retirement in another couple of years."

"Heavy is the head that wears the crown-in-waiting," Rhys Petley nodded sympathetically.

"I've kept abreast of your activities this year, you know," Charles helped himself to a smoked oyster on a cracker, "your meeting with Silvio Berlusconi on a British trade mission to Italy, your going to Cairo to ask then Egyptian President Hosni Mubarak to immediately step down before any protestors were killed and your going to Libya to ask Col. Muammar Gaddafi to step down and leave Libya to prevent civil war."

"All those missions were failures," noted Magog Rhys Petley who failed to grab an oyster on a cracker before the French maid looking waitress carrying the tray walked away.

"But to succeed at failure," Prince Charles smiled, "surely that's a success of sorts?".

"I suppose if you put it that way it is," Rhys Petley agreed.

"Anyways I was wondering if you'd undertake a mission for me on behalf of the British government," Charles reached for a strawberry underneath the small statue of Diana of the Ephesians, "a mission where I hope you'll succeed. I want you to go to Damascus and ask Syrian President Bashar Assad to step down before any more of his countrymen are killed. Tell him to go into exile in Iran."

"Um...." Magog Rhys Petley didn't know what to say so he finally said, "Okay."

He looked at the prince and then noticed the curious juxtaposition of the statue of Diana of the Ephesians against the background of an oil painting of a Paris tunnel.

He noticed Diana's statue seemed to be urinating champagne on the prince just as Camilla came over to greet the duo.

To be continued.