Kim Jong-un Talks of Nuking Chechnya

Magog Rhys Petley brought the papers out of his briefcase and addressed North Korean leader Kim Jong-un, "So you're thinking of nuking America?".

"Well I was," Kim Jong-un adjusted his dark sunglasses, "but now I'm seriously considering nuking Chechnya." 

"Chechnya?" Magog blinked, "why Chechnya?".

"Because," Kim foamed at the mouth, "ever since those two stupid Chechen brothers set off those pressure cooker bombs at the Boston Marathon and killed a few people and injured several others, my name has gone off the front pages of most American newspapers and is no longer mentioned as the leading news headline on most major American TV news broadcasts. CNN's Anderson Cooper is no longer even talking about me. Instead they're yacking about those two idiots Dzhokhar Tsarnaev and Tamerlan Tsarnaev."

"Well..." Magog tried to speak.

Kim waved him off, "Some American airhead called Amanda Palmer even wrote a poem for one of them called A Poem For Dzhokhar. No American airhead has ever written a poem about me."

"Well," Magog cleared his throat, "if you'd like, I could place a long-distance phone call to Paris Hilton and put in a special request..."

Kim shook his head, "No, the moment has passed. I wouldn't have been Number One in an American airhead's heart, I'd only have been a Number Two. What kind of name is Dzhokhar anyways? It's a pretty stupid name in my opinion. It doesn't have the ring Jong-un does."

"No," Magog tried to agree and appease him.

"Besides if I nuked Chechnya, my name would get back on the front pages of American newspapers again and the lead headline on their TV news broadcasts. My Andy Warholesque 15 minutes of fame would be extended again. I'd even be hailed as a great hero in America since the Americans are probably pissed at the Chechens for the Boston Marathon bombing. The U.S. National Rifle Association would probably even start a petition suggesting that I be awarded the U.S. Congressional Gold Medal of Freedom.  I can just picture Barack Obama giving a speech to a joint session of Congress in which he says, "Wherever the names of heroes of freedom are spoken of or mentioned, the name Kim Jong-un will be among them."  I can even see Arizona Sen. John McCain praising my name on the floor of the U.S. Senate where he has previously condemned me."

"Well..." Magog again tried to speak.

Kim interrupted again, "It's a win-win situation all around. Americans won't be pissed at me for nuking America. The Chechens with their amateur pressure cooker bombs will all be dead. Even the Russians will like me since they've been the victims of Chechen terrorist attacks in the past. Vladimir Putin will probably award me the Hero of the Russian Federation Gold Star Medal.  America and Russia will probably get together and co-sponsor a joint nomination that I be awarded this year's Nobel Peace Prize for nuking Chechnya."

"Well.." Magog again tried to interject.

"That's it then," Kim Jong-un beamed, "I'm nuking Chechnya. Dirty rascals taking my name off the front pages of newspapers in the West."

Magog thought he better phone his new mentor the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set and see if nuking Chechnya would upset his plans for establishing a One World government.

To be continued.

Pan's Personal London Beautification Project

Pan was his name.

He was a genetically created hybrid manufactured at the billionaire ancient 

Egyptian vampire Set's research lab.

He was part-man and part-goat just like the fabled satyr of ancient Greek mythology.

Pan was also a serial killer.

Although that was just his hobby.

It wasn't how he earned his living.

He earned his living by playing the pan pipes for an American rock n' roll band Nero Wilson and The Cleveland Cleavers who were currently playing in London.

Pan killed strictly for pleasure.

Although now he felt like killing because he was angry.

There was some fat ugly blimp who kept walking through the neighbourhood where Pan rented a room.

Whenever he was out, it also seemed the fat ugly blimp was out walking through the neighbourhood at the same time ruining the Earth's beauty by the very fact of her existence and showing off her fat ugly pathetic looking face to the world. 

Pan resolved to kill the fat ugly creature.

And he knew how he was going to do it.

This night he went walking through the neighbourhood.

Sure enough, Pan noticed, the fat ugly blimp was walking through the neighbourhood again.

Pan put up the noise level on his ipod and he wasn't wearing ear plugs.

This fat thing was going to hear the song.

The song being played was the Daphne and Celeste pop song U.G.L.Y.

As he approached the creature who was the ugliest thing ever to disgrace the name of womanhood, the song played...

You ain't got no alibi

you ugly...

What you really need is to wear a mask

and book that plastic surgeon fast...

you ugly...

"Are you talking to me?" the fat ugly thing asked.

"Yes, I am, bitch," the satyr pulled out a machete and cut the fat ugly blimp's head off.

Then he proceeded to cut her up into very tiny pieces.

"You look much better now," Pan grinned, "if I do say so myself."

Plus, Pan reflected as he walked down the street, he was so much more inexpensive than a plastic surgeon.

To be continued.

Renfield's Possible Plans For Summer

"I've thought of an idea I might do this summer," Renfield spoke to Amadeus through mouthfuls of tuna fish sandwich, "that is of course if Kim Jong-un hasn't nuked America."

"What's that?" Amadeus drank his chocolate milk and longed for a Superman comic book to read.

"Something no one's ever thought of before," Renfield drank his bottle of beer through a straw, "a traveling porno circus show. I'd have a van made up to look like a penis and then I'd travel across the country and people would pay to watch what was happening inside the van. I'd open the van doors and there'd be a bunch of hot-looking lesbians (if I can find some hot-looking lesbians because most of them are fat and ugly or thin and ugly) making out in the back of the van."

"I see," Amadeus was really wishing he had a Superman comic book to read now so he could ignore Renfield.

"Know what I'd call this traveling porno circus show with a van made up to look like a penis and hot-looking lesbians making out in the back of the van?" Renfield asked with a smile.

"No idea," Amadeus shook his head.

"The Dick Van Dyke Show," Renfield grinned.

Amadeus groaned.

To be continued.

Magog Receives A Phone Call From Dennis Rodman

Kim Jong-un to Dennis Rodman:  I can out-Gangnam Style Psy any day!  That pussy!

Welsh werewolf British Labour MP Magog Rhys Petley was in his bedroom with Lepardia Marango the cultural attache at the South African Embassy in London.

They were enjoying some buttermilk cookies and chocolate covered strawberries.

He was wearing a red signature Hugh Hefner men's nightgown and she was wearing a black lace lingerie slip.

His iPhone went off.

"I don't feel like answering that," he licked some chocolate off her chocolate breasts.

"It might be important," she purred.

He looked at the name and number, "It says it's from Dennis Rodman."

"The former basketball star?" Lepardia asked.

"Could be," Magog answered the phone.

After listening for a couple of minutes, he said "okay" and ended the call.

"What did he want?" Lepardia asked.

"Apparently North Korean leader Kim Jong-un wants to meet me," Magog looked astonished, "says I'm the only man who can prevent nuclear war on the Korean Peninsula."

"It looks like the pressure is really on you now," Lepardia lifted her slip and proceeded to mount Magog Rhys Petley.

She then thrust herself upon him in the same way that Shakespeare once wrote, "and some have greatness thrust upon them..."

To be continued.

Renfield Hacks Into North Korean Cabinet Room

Renfield R. Renfield was at his computer hacking into the cameras that recorded and filmed the North Korean cabinet meeting room.

Amadeus Emanon was sitting on the sofa looking bleary-eyed and imagining that he was reading a Superman comic book.

"I'm now in the North Korean cabinet meeting room," Renfield boasted.

"What are you doing there?" Amadeus asked in a voice devoid of emotion.

"I've been informed by my sources that there's a very important meeting happening right now that will decide the fate of the entire world," Renfield answered.

"Where's Superman when you need him?" Amadeus looked around for any sign of a Superman comic book in the vicinity.

"This is strange," Renfield looked puzzled, "there's no one in the cabinet room except for North Korean leader Kim Jong-un himself and he's busy picking petals off a daisy."

Renfield turned up the audio on his computer.

Kim was of course speaking in Korean.

Renfield who knew Korean translated for Amadeus.

North Korea's leader Kim Jong-un said as he picked one daisy petal, "I should nuke America" and as he picked the next daisy petal, "I should not nuke America..."

and so on and so forth...

Amadeus looked horrified, "You mean Kim Jong-un is deciding whether or not to nuke America depending on what answer  the final daisy petal gives him?."

"Apparently," Renfield poured himself a glass of ice cold lemonade shandy.

"I wonder what the answer will be," Amadeus looked out the window towards the heavens.

"I don't know," Renfield sipped his shandy, "but depending on what the final daisy petal answer is, I may have to advise the Boss to pull his investment money out of America."

To be continued.

Gruesome Murder In East London

Inspector Depp of Scotland Yard had been called to the scene of an extremely brutal murder at an apartment building in East London.

The body was the most dismembered that Inspector Depp had ever recalled seeing.

"It's going to take one Hell of a jigsaw puzzle expert in the forensic examiner's office to put this body back together, Guv'nor," Constable MacIntosh remarked to Inspector Depp.

"It looks that way," Inspector Depp agreed.

"Darcy was such a nice boy," the voice of the apartment building's landlady could be heard sobbing in the hallway, "he was gay so some people picked on him. But he was a nice boy nonetheless."

"You're pretty sure that this is Darcy?" Inspector Depp looked through the open door to the hallway and then around the room at the various pieces of "Darcy" spread all over the place.

"Darcy came home late last night with another gent," the landlady sobbed, "I noticed them come in while looking through my window overlooking the street.  Two hours later, the gent left. So it couldn't have been him whose pieces these are. And only Darcy and myself have a key to this room."

"You say he came home late last night?" Inspector Depp asked, "Do you know where from?".

"Darcy was a doorman at the Club Spandex," the landlady continued to drown the hallway floor with her tears, "he was pretty excited about an American rock band that was playing there- Nero Wilson and The Cleveland Cleavers. He mentioned that the band had only recently acquired a new member- someone who played the pan pipes by the name of Pan Goatee."

"Take Mrs. Woodward down to the Yard," Inspector Depp instructed Constable MacIntosh, "get her to talk to our sketch artist and see if we can get a picture of what the gent looked like who Darcy came home with."

Constable MacIntosh did as he was instructed.

Inspector Depp sighed.

Somehow this dismemberment reminded him of the dismemberments that had been taking place up in northern England by some deranged serial killer up there.

The full details of the gruesome crimes had not been released to the press.

That seemed to rule out a copycat killer.

So it was possible that the serial killer in northern England had now come down to London to feed his murderous passion.

From detailed forensic analysis of those crime scenes, it sounded like the murderer had slept with all of his victims- both male and female- before killing them.

So whoever this maniac was, Inspector Depp lit a cigarette, he was obviously bisexual or as that old American country music song put it, "This door swings both ways..."

To be continued.

Amadeus Faces Set For His Final Punishment

Amadeus Emanon had spent the past few weeks in the doghouse as punishment for having the wrong packages delivered to the wrong addresses at the Set Enterprises Laboratories' loading docks.

The result was Set Enterprises lost possession of a $250 million genetically created hybrid.

The creature was probably dead as a result of being in a lorry accident in northern England (where it did not belong but ended up due to Amadeus' carelessness) and the body presumably stolen.

What a waste of a good hybrid! Renfield R. Renfield thought to himself as he tossed a flyer in the garbage announcing a performance of Nero Wilson and The Cleveland Cleavers at a London nightclub.

Renfield's job was now to present Amadeus to his boss the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set as he sat on his judgement throne in his mansion's Egyptian underworld replica room.

It was of course Set's brother Osiris who was the judge of the dead in the Egyptian underworld but in this replica world of Set's, he had usurped his brother's position.

Set on his judgement throne was going to pronounce Amadeus' final punishment for his carelessness.

Spending three weeks in the doghouse in the Estate's backyard was apparently not sufficient enough punishment for Amadeus in Set's opinion.

So now Set was going to pronounce Amadeus' final punishment.

Renfield's job was to escort Amadeus to the Judgement Seat of Set.

Renfield had brought along his revolver with him just on the off chance Set's final judgement was to have Amadeus shot with a revolver at the back of the head.

Renfield was actually hoping that Set would not pronounce the punishment of death- an unusual feeling for Renfield who usually relished in the killing of people- but through the years Renfield had actually grown fond of his fellow genetically cloned sidekick- despite the latter having an un-psychopathic nature that Renfield absolutely could not comprehend.

Renfield and Amadeus stood in front of Set's judgement seat. To the right of Set's throne stood Set's valet Athelstan dressed in the garb of an Egyptian high priest. Athelstan held a cup of Socrates' Brand Hemlock just on the off chance Set decided to be merciful.

Set was robed in the dress of the judge of the dead.

He said in a booming voice, "Amadeus Emanon..."

Amadeus shook as he answered, "Yes, sir?".

"You will now receive the Final Punishment for your offense of carelessness..."

he rose from the throne and stood up to his full height of 6 feet 6.

Amadeus continued to quiver.

Set grabbed Amadeus by the throat and his long fingernails pressed against Amadeus' skin, "I'm going to..."

His voice echoed throughout the hall as he paused...

"... take away your Superman comic book collection."

Amadeus burst into tears.

To be continued.

Nero Wilson and The Cleveland Cleavers

Nero Wilson was the lead electrical violinist for a band called Nero Wilson and the Cleveland Cleavers.

It used to be called Nero Wilson and the New Romans but since most people these days couldn't understand songs sung in Latin, he changed the name of the band to Nero Wilson and the Cleveland Cleavers and sung songs in English.

Why Cleveland?

Because that was the city he and two members of the band (his cousins) were from- Cleveland, Ohio.

Why Cleavers?

It made for nice alliteration plus that was how Nero got his mother Agrippina (yes, he had a mother called Agrippina just like history's most famous Nero- the Roman Emperor Nero) to agree to his leaving home to form a rock band (she wanted him to become Mayor of Cleveland)- he threatened her with a cleaver.

So with his two cousins Charles and Dave Wilson (who changed their names to Bud Lou and Abbott Costello respectively), he along with their sexy and mysterious female lead singer Sekhmet hit the road as Nero Wilson and the Cleveland Cleavers.

Now they were singing at a club in London, England where they were hoping to make a major breakthrough and land a big recording contract.

Still Nero figured they'd need another gimmick to land the really big time.

They had a lead electrical violinist himself, a lead singer Sekhmet, a lead electrical guitarist cousin Charlie aka Bud Lou and a lead drummer cousin Dave aka Abbott Costello.

But they could use something else.

But what?

"Hello," the voice came from a young bearded man who seemed to have horns growing out of his head, "I was wondering if your band could use someone who knows how to play the pan pipes?".

Nero Wilson looked up and blinked, "Ummm... maybe... what's your name?".

"Pan," the young man answered.

"Good name for someone who plays the pan pipes," Nero Wilson nodded, "what's your last name?".

"I can't remember," the man replied in a sincere voice, "I can't remember much before a few weeks ago. I seem to have amnesia."

"That's okay," Nero nodded sympathetically, "when I first met our lead singer Sekhmet when I formed this band 4 years ago, she had amnesia too. In fact, she still can't seem to remember much before joining our band."

"That's great," Pan smiled.

"Where are you from?" Nero asked, "or maybe you can't remember?".

"I hitchhiked down to London from up north," Pan replied.

"Say, have you read about these serial killings that have been happening up in northern England?" Dave aka Abbott Costello came bursting through the door, "oh sorry, I didn't know you had a visitor."

"Pan here is thinking of joining the band," Nero smiled.

Pan extended his hand to shake Dave's.

Dave shook Pan's hand.

And then looked down and noticed Pan wasn't wearing any shoes.

And what extremely hairry furry feet he had.

On the TV, BBC's Naga Munchetty said, "In this new era of genetics and creating hybrids, will it  be possible to create the mythological creatures of ancient Greece and Rome? Our guest Set Enterprises' lead scientist Dr. Cadbury Rocher says yes..."

To be continued.