Cerberus and Pan Goatee In Vancouver

Pan Goatee had been reading all the Sydney Seagull poems that Dracul Van Helsing had written.


So he decided to go to Vancouver and see this strange eccentric bird for himself.

But after astral projecting himself to English Bay, he frightened off all the seagulls since he was carrying his astral machete with him.

Most of the humans on the beach were too stoned to be frightened by his astral machete.

Either that or they were pointing at it and saying in a brain dead zombie like voice,  "Wow.  That's really cool, man."

Pan Goatee who shared the Ancient Greek passion for true intellectual contemplation of the Realm of Platonic Forms thought these idiots were incapable of it and so beheaded them all thus reducing the amount of support for the Yes side in a possible B.C. Provincial Referendum on Marijuana Decriminalization to say nothing of reducing the base of support for Justin Trudeau's Canadian Federal Liberal Party.


Since Pan Goatee did not know his way around Vancouver, he decided to call a halt to his astral projection and ride the Vancouver Transit System that all the travel books raved about.

But seeing as how today was the second round of the Honda Celebration of Light Vancouver Fireworks Festival Competition (and the host country of Canada was tonight's competitor) the buses in Vancouver were full of $&@!ing people much to Pan Goatee's disgust.


He went around beheading people left, right and centre (and even totally apathetic when it came to the political spectrum) in a one half-man half-goat attempt to make a dent in the world's 7 billion population mark.

He tried boarding the next bus because the one he was on although now empty stank to high-heaven.

That one too was crowded- this one filled with people going to the Justin Timberlake concert being held tonight in Vancouver.

Pan Goatee raged, "Justin Timberlake?  I hate that guy for making Britney Spears cry."

Although he had only been genetically created this year, a recent well-done documentary on MTV that he had watched had brought him up to speed on the music scene of the past 20 years.

Sadly his astral machete now required sharpening and there wasn't an astral sharpening saw in sight.


He happened to see the 3-headed dog Cerberus astral project on to the scene.

Cerberus actually wanted to astral project to the Palace of Westminster in London, England but he made the mistake of asking a recently reformed alcoholic (who had only sworn off booze a few days before) for directions.


And this was where he wound up- in downtown Vancouver British Columbia.


"Cerberus," Pan Goatee cried out to him,  "this bus is full of damned souls aka Justin Timberlake fans.  Come and eat them."


Cerberus wagged his tail in a friendly fashion as he hadn't had anything to eat in several days.


He boarded the bus and with his 3 heads that all required a carnivourous non-vegetarian diet bit and chewed and swallowed anyone and everyone in sight.

In the aftermath, all that was left on the bus was a lot of blood and a bunch of bodiless Justin Timberlake shirts.




To be continued.







-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Wednesday July 31st 2013.

An Answer In Mysterious Ways

The woman looked at her watch.

1:30 AM and her husband was still not home.

The woman got down on her knees and prayed, "Please Lord, find some way that my husband will give up drinking."

                                         *             *            *

The husband sat in the pub and looked out the window.

Then he looked at the old grandfather clock ticking beside the bar.

1:30 AM.

He'd been here since 3:00 PM this past afternoon.

Sometimes he really wondered whether he should give up drinking.

"Oh, well," he thought to himself, "I promise I'll give up drinking if I see a 3-headed dog walk by."

He looked out the window and saw the 3-headed dog Cerberus walk by.

He looked down sadly at his empty glass and sighed, "Now, I'll have to give up drinking."

To be continued.

-A vampire novel chapter 

 written by Christopher

 Monday July 29th 2013.

Ghosts Galore

Ghosts Galore



The entertainer in the pub sang, "I'm Henry VIII I am, I am, I just got married to the widow next door, she's been married 7 times before and everyone was a Henry - Henr-ee  so that makes me Henry the Eighth I am..."

Outside the pub waiting for him was the ghost of Henry VIII and the ghost of his executioner.


"I didn't find your song very humourous," Henry harrumphed, "off with his head."

The executioner swung his ghostly axe and the axe passed harmlessly through the entertainer's head.

"I see you don't know how to manifest spiritual objects into a material reality,"  Pan Goatee laughed as he astral projected by on his way to a replication of the Bohemian Grove ceremony on the banks of the Thames.

"Me?  I thought it was you who was going to bring the statue of the giant owl,"  former British Prime Minister Tony Blair said  in exasperation to the current Archbishop of Canterbury.





                     .         .        .




The ghost of Josef Stalin stood in shock on Brazil's Copacabana Beach at the massive crowd of young people cheering Pope Francis.

A booming voice seemed to echo out of the heavens,  "Well Joe you stupid ass,  I didn't think I'd ever see you again after you kicked the bucket.  Well now you know how many soldiers the Pope has."

Stalin's ghost looked up and saw a huge cloud in the shape of Sir Winston Churchill's head smoking a giant cigar.




                        .          .          .




Adolf Hitler's ghost sat in Rush Limbaugh's huge dressing room and waited for the enormously stout talk show host to return.

The Fuhrer's spirit tried to help himself to a piece of chicken from one of the 6 dozen buckets of KFC that sat on the dressing room table awaiting Mr. Limbaugh's return.

But since he didn't know how to project material objects into a spiritual reality, he couldn't.

When Rush returned, the Fuhrer greeted him enthusiastically.

Speaking in a thick German accent and spraying his own moustache with his enthusiasm, the Fuhrer said, "I really love your show and agree with everything you say.  The non-whites in this country are getting far too uppity in my opinion."





                 .         .         .


The Greek vampire Hades used the remote to turn off his satellite TV and then spoke to one of his aides, "You know the reception is so bad underground.  We really should think about switching over to Cable."

"I'll look into it, sir,"  his aide replied.

"But still despite the blurry picture, it still gives me some idea of the chaos that exists above,"  Hades helped himself to some pomegranate seeds, "we must see what we can do about getting Cerberus back to his guard dog position again so we can stop all these damned spirits from crossing back over the River Styx to the world above."

"I'll see what I can do, sir," his aide remarked.

"It's all so frustrating,"   Hades hit his forehead, "where's Persephone when you really need her?  All this masturbation starts to get on one's nerves after a while."

"You're forgetting that it's summer on Mount Olympus, sir," his aide reminded him.

"Why doesn't anyone remember to turn over the page on this damned calendar?" Hades snapped as he turned over the calendar several pages.




                 .           .            .





On one side of the River Styx,  Chris de Burgh sang, "Don't pay the ferryman until he gets you to the other side..."


On Mount Olympus, Vincent Price spoke as he watched Michael Jackson dance on the moon,

"Darkness falls across the land,
The midnight hour is close at hand..."




To be continued.






-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday July 26th 2013

Renfield's Lottery Ticket Or Wagging The Dog Cerberus

Renfield found nothing wrong with his selection of lottery picks

but the combination caused Cerberus to cross the River Styx

and the result of Cerberus' 3 heads abandoning their posts

would cause this planet Earth to be overrun with ghosts.

-A vampire novel poem

 written by Christopher

 during the Midnight Hour

 early Wednesday morning

 July 24th 2013

 when ghosts are out

 prowling about.

Renfield and The Pompous Arrogant Millionaire

Renfield R. Renfield and Amadeus Emanon entered the seafood restaurant in London.

As they were entering, a man walked directly in front of Renfield and knocked into him without saying "Excuse me."

"I'm going to kill that bastard," Renfield turned to go after the man.

Amadeus grabbed Renfield and held him, "Calm down."

As they were seated at a table, their usual waitress came over to their table and seemed to be somewhat upset.

"What's wrong?" Amadeus asked.

"That man who just walked out," she pointed outside to the man walking on the sidewalk- the same man who had carelessly bumped into Renfield, "he had a meal worth 50 pounds and tipped me nothing. Usually he leaves me a 5 pound tip but because I didn't deliver his crab to him within 30 seconds of the chef ringing the bell to say the order was ready, he left me nothing.  But I had a whole bunch of drinks on my tray for another table at the time and I couldn't rush to deliver them. So for that, he left me a tip of nothing."

"Really?" Amadeus was shocked.

"The guy's a millionaire too," the waitress sighed, "and always boasting about how philanthropic and charitable he is.  But because I didn't deliver his crab to him within 30 seconds, that philanthropic millionaire left me a tip of nothing."

"That does it," Renfield said, "I'm going to kill the bastard."

This time Amadeus did nothing to stop him.

Renfield ran outside the restaurant and spotted the man about to enter the back seat of a Rolls Royce limousine whose back door was being held open by a chauffeur.

Renfield went behind the man, pulled out his gun and fired six rounds into the man's back.

Then he turned around and walked back into the restaurant.

As the man lay on the sidewalk bleeding to death, his chauffeur (who had often been the victim of many of the pompous arrogant millionaire's tirades) text messaged a friend on his phone (one he knew would be slow to answer him) and asked him what was the emergency number for police, fire and ambulance in the United Kingdom.

The friend responded 15 minutes later, "999 but you should know this."

"You're right I should," the chauffeur text messaged back in Dracul Van Helsing style longhand, "I guess I must have forgotten momentarily."

By this time the man was already dead and and had started his eternity of roasting on a nice warm red hot spit in Hellish flames.

When Renfield entered the restaurant a minute after shooting the man 6 times with his gun, he remarked to himself, "It's a good thing there's a special on illegal ammunition this week down at the gang warehouse in the London dockyards or otherwise I'd be kicking myself silly right now for excessive wastage of bullets."

"What did you do?" Amadeus asked.

"I shot and killed him," Renfield calmly remarked as he tied his napkin around his neck to form a protective bib as he quite often splashed while eating his oysters.

"You know I'm worried about myself," Amadeus remarked, "I should be feeling a sense of moral outrage right now since you killed someone albeit someone who was a total asshole.   Yet I'm finding it hard to work up a sense of moral outrage over his death."

"That's because you've just learned a little known truth," Renfield grinned, "which is totally oblivious to most idiots who work in the Crown Prosecutor's Office and also sit on the bench which is that most societies do require psychopaths in order to be able to function properly in a manner that ensures true fairness and justice for all."

To be continued.

-A vampire novel chapter 

 written by Christopher

 Monday night July 22nd 2013.

Alien Frequencies and Pan Goatee

The reptilian Captain of the alien spacecraft sat in his chair aboard the central deck and looked at the screen.

There was planet Earth.

The captain who looked like Captan James T. Kirk on a bad hair day and an even worse skin day said, "Increase the frequency."

The frequency was increased.

                                      *             *         *

Pan Goatee was feeling the vibe as he slashed to death the diners in the Chinese restaurant in London.

"I've got it, I've got it," he screamed in ecstasy as he slashed a Chinese gentleman and his British friend to death thus putting an end to the argument over who was going to pay the bill.

To be continued.

-A vampire novel chapter

 written by Christopher

 Wednesday July 17th 2013.

7/11 Day 2013

"Mr. President," the Secretary of State John Kerry addressed Barack  Obama, "we've got a response from the Chinese government over our strongly worded protest to them over Edward Snowden being allowed to leave the Hong Kong territory to go to Russia."


"And what's their response?" President Obama asked.


"Well it's addressed to you personally sir,"  Secretary Kerry noted.


"Really?" The President looked quizzical, "What is it?".


Secretary Kerry winced as he spoke it,  "They tell you to go ---- yourself."


"What?!" The President was livid, "How dare they?  Don't they know that I'm the President of the United States?".





                     *          *            *



"Of course I do,"  Chinese President Xi Jinping said as he fed a thousand year old egg to the dog under the table (a dog whose bark he did not like),  "that's why I said it."


The dog would never bark again.




                   *           *          *




Russian President Vladimir Putin sighed,  "The United States is becoming more and more arrogant with each passing day.  They're treating other leaders of the world the same way Germany treated other European leaders back in the 1930s."




                      *           *           *




Syrian President Bashar Assad looked at the document in front of him and said,  "Gentlemen, it's time we carry out Project Asmodeus."


None of his generals voiced disagreement.




                  *           *          *




The billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set looked at the unfolding chaos in Egypt being shown on the TV by BBC News and spoke to his valet, "You know Athelstan, none of this would be happening if Papa Ra had appointed me Pharaoh of Egypt instead of Osiris millennia ago."


"Indeed, sir,"  Athelstan handed his boss a two minute boiled egg along with some toast and jam.




                 *         *          *





Welsh werewolf British Labour MP Magog Rhys Petley was sitting inside the doctor's office in the hospital in Bethlehem.


The Welsh werewolf was feeling somewhat sheepish.


He was here because he feared that he may have picked up a sexually transmitted disease from the town harlot- a beautiful and alluring and mysterious red headed woman who called herself Lilith.


The physician went over to the test tube filled with the penicillin and inserted a syringe.

He then took the syringe and injected Magog Rhys Petley.


And that's how the spirit of Neb-Senu mysterious entity from planet Nibiru who had once sojourned in ancient Egypt and who had recently possessed a moving ancient Egyptian statue in a Manchester museum entered the body of Magog Rhys Petley.



To be continued.




-A vampire novel chapter
 written by Christopher
 Thursday evening
  July 11th 2013

America's Latest Secret Weapon

"You're looking pretty pleased with yourself,"  Amadeus remarked to Renfield.


"I'm up to my old tricks again,"  Renfield grinned,  "there's an emergency meeting of the Russian cabinet in the Kremlin over an explosive new revelation found in the leaked Edward Snowden files.  So I hacked into the Kremlin computer and inserted my own explosive revelation.  Heh!  Heh!  Heh!"


"Renfield, what did you do?" Amadeus said as he sat down at the piano to play a little night music during the daytime.



                      .         .          .



Russian President Vladimir Putin looked pensive and concerned as did the members of his cabinet as they sat down at the large conference table in one of the Kremlin meeting halls.


"Gentlemen," the head of Russia's FSB Intelligence and Espionage Service spoke with great solemnity,  "I  give you America's latest secret weapon."


He turned on the projector and projected a large photographic image on to the screen in front of them.


Gasps of shock and horror were heard around the conference table.


"Even Ronald Reagan would never have done this," wept a longtime Kremlin official whose years of service went back to the days of the Cold  War.


There on the screen was a larger than life photograph...


... of Arizona Sen. John McCain in the nude.


"Well,"  Vladimir Putin pushed aside his plate of caviar, "there goes my lunch."




                     .          .              .




On the television screen was the face of CNN's Anderson Cooper,  "Does America's latest secret weapon involve causing people to lose their appetite?  Details on this story later tonight..."




To be continued.




-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Wednesday afternoon
July 10th 2013

Aztec Vampire Princess Qonzilqointec Phones Set On 66th Anniversary of Roswell Crash

At 1800 hours Greenwich mean time, the London-based billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set received a phone call from the Mexico City based Aztec vampire Princess Qonzilqointec.


Her Vampiric Highness spoke in her usual sexy and sultry vampiress voice,  "It was 66 years ago today that a UFO crashed at Roswell, New Mexico."


"And were you speaking to the pilot of the UFO just before he crashed?" Set asked as he spilled red wine all over himself.


"No, I wasn't," Qonzilqointec breathed into the phone like a lime Margarita going down one's throat on a hot summer day.


"Then he died comfortless,"  Set grabbed a wet towel and wiped himself off.


"Was your chief scientist Dr. Cadbury Rocher ever able to successfully clone the dead aliens from the DNA that Renfield stole from Area 51 in Nevada?" Qonzilqointec asked.


"Nothing successful so far,"  Set replied as he swallowed a Viagara tablet with his next sip of red wine.


"I think I can do something to help," Qonzilqointec breathed into the phone like crystal clear water cascading down a waterfall.


"Yes?" Set felt a new erection coming on as Roger Whittaker sang I can feel a new tomorrow comin' on... on the radio.


"If we can get Edward Snowden refuge in Venezuela, this will help our plans immensely," Qonzilqointec soothed sultrily.


"It will?" Set was frozen in ecstasy.


"Yes," Qonzilqointec sighed with the silkiness of black lace lingerie, "I was good friends with the late Hugo Chavez and I think I can convince the current Venezuelan President Nicolas Maduro to receive Snowden."


"I think you probably can,"  Set came with the full force of a volcanic eruption.


The billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire put the phone down and called out to his valet,  "Athelstan, I think my pants need to be sent out to the dry cleaners."




To be continued.





-Aztec Vampire Princess Qonzilqointec Phones Set On 66th Anniversary of Roswell Crash

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Monday evening
July 8th 2013

Pan Goatee and Neb-Senu In Bethlehem

Pan Goatee and his friend the spirit of the statue of Neb-Senu had astral projected themselves to the town of Bethlehem in the West Bank.


Pan Goatee had not only taught himself the art of astral projection the past few weeks but had also recently mastered the ability to shapeshift into other human forms.


He shape shifted into the appearance of a West Bank Jewish settler and went into a Palestinian neighbourhood and slaughtered a bunch of Palestinian children.


He then shapeshifted into the appearance of a fighter member of the Fatah al-Aqsa Martyrs' Brigade and went into a nearby Jewish settlement and slaughtered a bunch of Jewish settler children.


"Nothing like starting a shit load of trouble between people," Pan Goatee shapeshifted into Johnny Depp as Captain Jack Sparrow and winked at Neb-Senu.


They then astral projected themselves into the doctor's office of a hospital in Bethlehem to see what trouble they could cause there.


The doctor was out of his office but the TV was on and the satellite had picked up a transmission of an old 1960s American TV program Batman.


"Unholy smokeless fire, Batman," Robin the Boy Wonder shouted to the Caped Crusader.


The jinn in the test tube in the doctor's office thought he was the one being talked about and looked towards the TV screen.


That's when he noticed the astral bodies of Pan Goatee and Neb-Senu.


The jinn (who was of the Marid variety of jinn) had been imprisoned in the test tube for a few months now.


He had been told in a vision that the only way he could escape was to get another entity to take his place.


The jinn noticed one of the entities appeared to be Egyptian and the other entity appeared to be a bad impersonation of American actor Johnny Depp as pirate Captain Jack Sparrow.


Inside the test tube, the Marid jinn shapeshifted into an alluring female Egyptian Sila jinn who sang a sweet song of seduction in Egyptian to the entity known as Neb-Senu.


Eagerly, Neb-Senu astral projected into the test tube allowing the Marid jinn to make his escape.


The Marid jinn quickly astral projected himself into the direction of the Mediterranean Sea.


When Pan Goatee saw that his friend Neb-Senu could not astral project himself out of the test tube, all he could say was "Oh shit."


Pan then astral projected himself to a Gypsy crystal ball reader on London's Carnaby Street for advice.


Meanwhile in another section of the hospital, Welsh werewolf British Labour MP Magog Rhys Petley in his booming Welsh voice said, "I declare this maternity ward officially open..."




To be continued.






-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Sunday evening circa 7 PM
July 7th 2013

Magog In Egypt

British Labour MP (and Welsh werewolf) Magog Rhys Petley's peace mission to Syria last month was a total failure.

Syrian President Bashar Assad refused to meet him saying, "I don't talk to werewolves."

Leaders of the Syrian Opposition refused to meet him citing severe allergies to wolf hairs.

So Magog chose to holiday in Egypt just as anti-Morsi protests erupted in Cairo's Tahrir Square.

Then when the army ousted Mohammed Morsi the Islamist President of Egypt this past Wednesday, he had to endure militant pro-Morsi protests.

So he stopped drinking buttermilk (the only known antidote to his particular lycanthropy condition) because he discovered that when he turned into a werewolf, most people tended to get out of his way.

Now he was standing in front of the Sphinx pondering its riddle.

He took out a Cadbury Caramilk bar and ate it.

In another 24 hours, he'd be visiting Bethlehem in the West Bank opening up a new maternity ward in a hospital there.

He had been invited to do so by a friend of his in the Palestinian Authority.

Magog then accidently dropped the Caramilk wrapper- coincidentally in the direction of Bethlehem.

The Welsh werewolf slouched over to pick it up.

An Irish tourist reading a book of William Butler Yeats' poetry walked by.

To be continued.

-A vampire novel chapter

 written by Christopher

 Saturday night 

 July 6th 2013.

Pan Goatee's Latest Astral Projection Encounters Powerful Force

Serial killing satyr Pan Goatee decided he'd once again astral project to the Vatican- this time with his new found friend the spirit of Neb-Senu who possessed the moving ancient Egyptian statue in the Manchester Museum.

But this time as he tried it, some powerful force or possibly a powerful entity prevented him from entering the Vatican grounds.



                                   .         .         .




Earlier that day, Pope Francis and Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI  had jointly consecrated a new statue of Saint Michael the Archangel in the Vatican.



To be continued.

Renfield and Amadeus Attend The Lone Ranger Opening And Talk Philosophy

Renfield R. Renfield and Amadeus Emanon were sitting in a movie theatre awaiting the start of the new Johnny Depp movie The Lone Ranger.

Renfield was wearing a t-shirt that said GET IN TOUCH WITH YOUR INNER PSYCHOPATH.

"If there's anyone who's a master at getting in touch with their inner psychopath, it's you," Amadeus remarked as he munched on some hot buttered popcorn.

"Thanks," Renfield grinned.

"Can you do a Johnny Depp impersonation?" Amadeus asked out of curiosity.

"No, I can't," Renfield tried talking like Captain Jack Sparrow but failed miserably.

"I've heard there's a Malaysian woman living in Germany who can do a pretty good Johnny Depp impersonation," Amadeus broke his licorice stick into crumbs and put it on top of his popcorn.

"Really?" Renfield took a bottle out of his pocket and poured an ounce of vodka into his theatre container of Pepsi, "That can't be true because I haven't heard that."

"You mean truth is dependent upon what you personally see and hear?" Amadeus asked.

"Yes," Renfield smiled,  "I'm the ultimate existentialist philosopher."

Renfield's remark was greeted with total silence in the theatre (although a Zen master might have interpreted it as the sound of one hand clapping).

To be continued.