The Ghost White Salamander
Belvedere was the ghost of a ghost white salamander who hung out with Salaman The Magician.
The two had met when the stage magician had been doing a magic show in Salt Lake City.
Belvedere did not believe that he had always been a ghost white salamander.
He believed an evil witch had turned him into a ghost white salamander
when he refused to pay her for services rendered in a room above a Wild
West saloon.
Since he had been turned into a salamander and was ghostly white in
colour, he would have been labelled by zoologists a ghost white
salamander.
He turned into the ghost of a ghost white salamander after being run over by an ox cart heading further west.
No one could see him until Salaman The Magician had spotted him in Salt Lake City.
Belvedere and Salaman had hit it off and the two hung out together ever since.
Belvedere would occasionally help Salaman out with his magic show.
Having a ghost as part of the show often left other stage magicians who
were sitting in the audience as spectators scratching their heads
wondering themselves how a certain trick could have been possibly done.
Salaman had recently been hired by the British government to put on a
fake haunting using fake ghosts at a Scottish castle this past weekend.
"Why didn't you use a real ghost like me for the haunting?" Belvedere the ghost of the ghost white salamander asked Salaman.
"A lot of people don't find ghosts of ghost white salamanders scary," Salaman answered.
"Really?" Belvedere looked perplexed, "I find myself looking scary
whenever I look into the mirror and find dandruff flakes falling out of
my ectoplasm."
"Yes, that really is a strange phenomenon," Salaman had to admit.
"I really don't know how to stop it," Belvedere said sheepishly, "it makes me glad most people aren't able to see me."
"Eek!" The magician's lovely stage assistant Maria screamed when she
entered the room, "What is that strange creature with dandruff flakes
falling out of its ectoplasm?".
"Of which this moment is a prime example," Belvedere the ghost white salamander hung his head in shame.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Monday May 30th
2016.
Tuesday, May 31, 2016
Tuesday, May 24, 2016
Salaman The Magician
Salaman The Magician had been summoned to 10 Downing Street to meet the Prime Minister David Cameron.
"I hear you're putting on a very successful magic show in London these days," Cameron said to Salaman.
"I try my best, Mr. Prime Minister," the white bearded magician smiled.
"I hear this past weekend, you had a frog leaping out from the bosom of a very beautiful woman in a low-cut evening dress and frightening Boris Johnson," Cameron smiled.
"As much as I'd like to claim credit for what turned out to be a very upstaging event during the show," the magician bowed his head, "alas, I was not the one responsible for that."
"Well no matter," Cameron got to the point, "the point is we're having a very important guest- a foreign dignitary- staying at a castle in Scotland tonight- the castle is said to be haunted. We want you to use your magic skills to make a ghost appear to the foreign dignitary and get him to adopt the same position on a certain international issue as that held by Her Majesty's Government here in the United Kingdom. Sorry to give you such short notice on this. But we just found out at the last moment that this gentleman is flying in for a secret conference on this issue at the said haunted castle in Scotland. We thought if anyone could put together a seemingly authentic haunting at the last moment, it would be a master magician such as yourself."
"All right, I'll do it," Salaman answered when he was handed a piece of paper by Cameron stating the amount the British government was willing to pay him for staging the supposedly authentic haunting.
"Great," Cameron shook his hand and the magician made his exit.
• • •
"Who'd have thought," Salaman shook his head as he got into the taxi outside 10 Downing Street, "that magic shows and haunted castles would soon play an important role in international relations."
Meanwhile over in Vietnam, Barack Obama was unaware that he was currently chatting with the actual real ghost of a Vietnamese Empress.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday May 24th
2016.
Sunday, May 22, 2016
Salaman The Magician Magic Show Runs Amok
Salaman The Magician Magic Show Runs Amok
Salaman The Magician had had a successful run with his magic show in London.
Audiences were raving about it.
Although on this night, the raving was done by Boris Johnson the former Mayor of London and Euro-sceptic Conservative MP who mistook the magician's sawing his beautiful female assistant in half in a box draped with the Union Jack as an endorsement of an EU superstate over a sovereign United Kingdom.
To settle things down, Salaman The Magician decided to saw his beautiful female assistant in half in a box draped with the European Union flag instead much to the cheers of the pro-Brexit crowd.
After sawing the woman in half and separating the European Union flag draped box, the audience shouted, "Don't bother putting her back together."
So the magician's assistant had to be put together backstage.
Sitting next to Boris Johnson in the audience was the ancient Babylonian Vampiress Lilith.
Lilith had been asked by Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan to bump off Johnson because the Turkish despot and would be restored Sultan of a revived Ottoman Caliphate was offended by Boris Johnson's offensive limerick about him that won The Spectator Magazine's President Erdogan Offensive Poetry Competition.
The plan was for Nimrod (the builder of the Tower of Babel who was now a frog due to a vampiric kiss magic spell gone awry) to hide down the front of Lilith's lavender coloured evening dress between her cleavage (where Nimrod often liked to be for some reason) and then jump out at an appropriate moment during the performance to ribbit an Amazon River basin poison plant dart out of his mouth in Johnson's direction.
Unfortunately for Erdogan's homicidal plans, Nimrod had accidentally purchased a bottle of Bavarian Magic Mushroom Liquid Gel instead of Amazon River Basin Poison Plant Liquid Gel by mistake at a London chemist shop earlier in the day.
So when Nimrod jumped out from between Lilith's cleavage as the stage band played Beethoven's Ode To Joy as Salaman sawed the European Union draped flag box (with beautiful female assistant inside) in half, the ancient prince turned frog fired Bavarian Magic Mushroom Liquid Gel into Johnson's Adam's Apple.
Instead of immediately keeling over and dying on the spot (which would have occurred had the fast acting Poison Plant Liquid Gel been used), Johnson instead fell to his knees and said, "Is this a leather skirted dominatrix I see before me?".
As Johnson babbled about pirate ships under attack by bunny rabbits, Lilith and Nimrod hastily exited the theatre.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday May 21st
2016.
Salaman The Magician had had a successful run with his magic show in London.
Audiences were raving about it.
Although on this night, the raving was done by Boris Johnson the former Mayor of London and Euro-sceptic Conservative MP who mistook the magician's sawing his beautiful female assistant in half in a box draped with the Union Jack as an endorsement of an EU superstate over a sovereign United Kingdom.
To settle things down, Salaman The Magician decided to saw his beautiful female assistant in half in a box draped with the European Union flag instead much to the cheers of the pro-Brexit crowd.
After sawing the woman in half and separating the European Union flag draped box, the audience shouted, "Don't bother putting her back together."
So the magician's assistant had to be put together backstage.
Sitting next to Boris Johnson in the audience was the ancient Babylonian Vampiress Lilith.
Lilith had been asked by Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan to bump off Johnson because the Turkish despot and would be restored Sultan of a revived Ottoman Caliphate was offended by Boris Johnson's offensive limerick about him that won The Spectator Magazine's President Erdogan Offensive Poetry Competition.
The plan was for Nimrod (the builder of the Tower of Babel who was now a frog due to a vampiric kiss magic spell gone awry) to hide down the front of Lilith's lavender coloured evening dress between her cleavage (where Nimrod often liked to be for some reason) and then jump out at an appropriate moment during the performance to ribbit an Amazon River basin poison plant dart out of his mouth in Johnson's direction.
Unfortunately for Erdogan's homicidal plans, Nimrod had accidentally purchased a bottle of Bavarian Magic Mushroom Liquid Gel instead of Amazon River Basin Poison Plant Liquid Gel by mistake at a London chemist shop earlier in the day.
So when Nimrod jumped out from between Lilith's cleavage as the stage band played Beethoven's Ode To Joy as Salaman sawed the European Union draped flag box (with beautiful female assistant inside) in half, the ancient prince turned frog fired Bavarian Magic Mushroom Liquid Gel into Johnson's Adam's Apple.
Instead of immediately keeling over and dying on the spot (which would have occurred had the fast acting Poison Plant Liquid Gel been used), Johnson instead fell to his knees and said, "Is this a leather skirted dominatrix I see before me?".
As Johnson babbled about pirate ships under attack by bunny rabbits, Lilith and Nimrod hastily exited the theatre.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday May 21st
2016.
Thursday, May 19, 2016
Renfield Asks Donald Trump A Question
Renfield Asks Donald Trump A Question
Renfield R. Renfield's campaign for the U.S. Presidency was going nowhere.
He sat at 0.0% in the polls and had 0.0% of the delegates in either party- Republican or Democrat.
And to add insult to injury, still no one was telling him to drop out of the race like Hillary Clinton was telling Bernie Sanders or Donald Trump was telling Ted Cruz and John Kasich a month ago.
Renfield felt somewhat peeved.
He had recently found out however that he Renfield had actually been created in a genetics lab in Colorado Springs, Colorado (his creator Set Enterprises' resident mad scientist Dr. Cadbury Rocher had been trying to re-create Nikola Tesla's experiments with ball lightning at the time) rather than a genetics lab in Britain.
That meant he Renfield was a natural born (or natural genetically created) American citizen and he no longer needed to tell everyone to ignore the U.S. Constitution while campaigning to be President (and that most American Presidents inevitably do once they enter office).
So Renfield decided he needed to do something radical to attract the attention of the U.S. media and public.
Then he thought of a question that he could ask Donald Trump- a question that no journalist had thought of asking Donald Trump before.
Renfield was positive that this question would catapult him into the national spotlight.
So he flew over to America to a Donald Trump campaign rally and posed as a journalist.
Trump surveyed the room for members of the press and pointed in Renfield's direction.
"You sir," he pointed at Renfield, "wearing the Porn Stars and Hookers For Renfield campaign button on your lapel, you have a question?".
"I do, Mr. Trump," Renfield grinned like the cat about to pounce on the canary, "when was the last time you had a hair cut?".
Trump looked shell shocked.
"What?" Trump sputtered.
"That should be an easy question for most people with their own natural hair on their head to answer, Mr. Trump," Renfield grinned again, "when was the last time you had a hair cut?".
"Throw that bum out of here," Donald Trump directed his handlers.
Trump's handlers then pounced on the Set Enterprises Chief of Security and Intelligence Gathering posing as a journalist.
"What are you trying to cover up and hide, Mr. Trump?" Renfield shouted, "When was the last time you had a hair cut?".
"Throw that bum out of here!" Trump once again screamed.
"They're going to make bumper stickers," Renfield shouted, "bumper stickers that say RED SPIDER MONKEYS DIED FOR TRUMP'S FOLLICLE SINS."
"Throw that bum out of here," Trump raged with the fury of an Austrian painter addressing a rally in mid-1930s Nuremberg.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Thursday May 19th
2016.
Renfield R. Renfield's campaign for the U.S. Presidency was going nowhere.
He sat at 0.0% in the polls and had 0.0% of the delegates in either party- Republican or Democrat.
And to add insult to injury, still no one was telling him to drop out of the race like Hillary Clinton was telling Bernie Sanders or Donald Trump was telling Ted Cruz and John Kasich a month ago.
Renfield felt somewhat peeved.
He had recently found out however that he Renfield had actually been created in a genetics lab in Colorado Springs, Colorado (his creator Set Enterprises' resident mad scientist Dr. Cadbury Rocher had been trying to re-create Nikola Tesla's experiments with ball lightning at the time) rather than a genetics lab in Britain.
That meant he Renfield was a natural born (or natural genetically created) American citizen and he no longer needed to tell everyone to ignore the U.S. Constitution while campaigning to be President (and that most American Presidents inevitably do once they enter office).
So Renfield decided he needed to do something radical to attract the attention of the U.S. media and public.
Then he thought of a question that he could ask Donald Trump- a question that no journalist had thought of asking Donald Trump before.
Renfield was positive that this question would catapult him into the national spotlight.
So he flew over to America to a Donald Trump campaign rally and posed as a journalist.
Trump surveyed the room for members of the press and pointed in Renfield's direction.
"You sir," he pointed at Renfield, "wearing the Porn Stars and Hookers For Renfield campaign button on your lapel, you have a question?".
"I do, Mr. Trump," Renfield grinned like the cat about to pounce on the canary, "when was the last time you had a hair cut?".
Trump looked shell shocked.
"What?" Trump sputtered.
"That should be an easy question for most people with their own natural hair on their head to answer, Mr. Trump," Renfield grinned again, "when was the last time you had a hair cut?".
"Throw that bum out of here," Donald Trump directed his handlers.
Trump's handlers then pounced on the Set Enterprises Chief of Security and Intelligence Gathering posing as a journalist.
"What are you trying to cover up and hide, Mr. Trump?" Renfield shouted, "When was the last time you had a hair cut?".
"Throw that bum out of here!" Trump once again screamed.
"They're going to make bumper stickers," Renfield shouted, "bumper stickers that say RED SPIDER MONKEYS DIED FOR TRUMP'S FOLLICLE SINS."
"Throw that bum out of here," Trump raged with the fury of an Austrian painter addressing a rally in mid-1930s Nuremberg.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Thursday May 19th
2016.
Monday, May 16, 2016
Medusa and The Kraken In San Diego
Medusa and The Kraken In San Diego
The Kraken who called himself Emperor Napoleon VI (formerly Italian mad scientist Dr. Poseidon Prometheus prior to uploading his consciousness into a cyborgic octopus cybrid) was suntanning himself on a beach near San Diego, California.
His wife Medusa the ex-Gorgon (who had her head reattached to her body and her beauty restored- no more snaky dandruff flakes falling out of her hair- by British mad scientist Dr. Cadbury Rocher) was lying next to him in a bikini.
She turned over.
"Say dear," she whispered, "would you mind putting some suntan lotion on my back?".
"All right," the Kraken picked up the Coppertone suntanning lotion with one of his eight arms and put some of the lotion on his tentacles (careful not to put some on his metallic cyborg hooks) and started rubbing her back applying the lotion.
"Oh God, that feels good," Medusa moaned, "I think I'll have an orgasm right here on the beach."
The Kraken suddenly stopped applying the lotion, "How do Californians feel about displays of orgasms in public?".
"You've never seen too many TV shows or movies about California have you?" Medusa looked at him.
"I was always too busy leafing through textbooks and scientific journals," the ex-scientist turned Kraken recalled, "the closest I got to anything Californian was eating a bunch of California raisins one time. Which almost got me deported from Italy for offending Tuscan grape growers."
A guy walking along the beach in dark sunglasses suddenly spots the Kraken.
"Hey," the man walked up to him, "aren't you the same Kraken who appeared in that Geico commercial on TV where you jumped out of a water hazard on a golf course and devoured a bunch of golfers?".
"I'm the same Kraken all right," Napoleon VI smiled photogenically.
"I was once beheaded by the Greek hero Perseus," Medusa spoke up anxious for the sandals and Hawaiian shorts and dark sunglasses wearing dude to be impressed by her as well.
"I never saw that movie," the dude replied, "although my kids did."
"Oh," Medusa looked disappointed.
"Can I have your autograph?" The dude asked the Kraken.
"Sure," the Kraken smiled again, "do you have a pen on you?".
The dude reached into his shorts pocket and pulled out a pen bearing the logo Moonlite Bunny Ranch Nevada.
The Kraken took the pen with one of his tentacles and autographed the dude's autograph book.
"Moonlite Bunny Ranch Nevada?" The Kraken looked at the logo on the pen, "Did you ever run into a shapeshifting hamster/human called Renfield R. Renfield who often shops there?".
"I have on quite a number of occasions," the dude nodded, "in fact it was Mr. Renfield's posting a photo of him and me together in a hot tub with a bunch of working girls on that ranch on his Facebook page that has allowed me to add the title of having an ex-wife to my list of accomplishments."
"Renfield often has the habit of leaving chaos in his wake," the Kraken acknowledged.
"Yes, you should try Renfield's primordial void soup," Medusa grimaced, "I was sick for days afterwards."
"I must admit it didn't go well with my Kraken digestive system either," Napoleon VI recalled.
"Can I get a selfie with you and Medusa together?" The dude asked, "My golfing buddies will be so thrilled with you Mr. Kraken and my children will go nuts over seeing you Medusa with your head attached and minus all those slithering creepy crawly viper venomous reptiles in your curly locks of hair."
"Sure," the Kraken and Medusa agreed.
As they got their picture taken with the dude's smart phone, Bernie Sanders was walking along the beach handing out his Presidential campaign literature.
"Excuse me," Sen. Sanders addressed them, "but you three aren't registered Democrats by any chance are you?".
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Sunday May 15th 2016.
The Kraken who called himself Emperor Napoleon VI (formerly Italian mad scientist Dr. Poseidon Prometheus prior to uploading his consciousness into a cyborgic octopus cybrid) was suntanning himself on a beach near San Diego, California.
His wife Medusa the ex-Gorgon (who had her head reattached to her body and her beauty restored- no more snaky dandruff flakes falling out of her hair- by British mad scientist Dr. Cadbury Rocher) was lying next to him in a bikini.
She turned over.
"Say dear," she whispered, "would you mind putting some suntan lotion on my back?".
"All right," the Kraken picked up the Coppertone suntanning lotion with one of his eight arms and put some of the lotion on his tentacles (careful not to put some on his metallic cyborg hooks) and started rubbing her back applying the lotion.
"Oh God, that feels good," Medusa moaned, "I think I'll have an orgasm right here on the beach."
The Kraken suddenly stopped applying the lotion, "How do Californians feel about displays of orgasms in public?".
"You've never seen too many TV shows or movies about California have you?" Medusa looked at him.
"I was always too busy leafing through textbooks and scientific journals," the ex-scientist turned Kraken recalled, "the closest I got to anything Californian was eating a bunch of California raisins one time. Which almost got me deported from Italy for offending Tuscan grape growers."
A guy walking along the beach in dark sunglasses suddenly spots the Kraken.
"Hey," the man walked up to him, "aren't you the same Kraken who appeared in that Geico commercial on TV where you jumped out of a water hazard on a golf course and devoured a bunch of golfers?".
"I'm the same Kraken all right," Napoleon VI smiled photogenically.
"I was once beheaded by the Greek hero Perseus," Medusa spoke up anxious for the sandals and Hawaiian shorts and dark sunglasses wearing dude to be impressed by her as well.
"I never saw that movie," the dude replied, "although my kids did."
"Oh," Medusa looked disappointed.
"Can I have your autograph?" The dude asked the Kraken.
"Sure," the Kraken smiled again, "do you have a pen on you?".
The dude reached into his shorts pocket and pulled out a pen bearing the logo Moonlite Bunny Ranch Nevada.
The Kraken took the pen with one of his tentacles and autographed the dude's autograph book.
"Moonlite Bunny Ranch Nevada?" The Kraken looked at the logo on the pen, "Did you ever run into a shapeshifting hamster/human called Renfield R. Renfield who often shops there?".
"I have on quite a number of occasions," the dude nodded, "in fact it was Mr. Renfield's posting a photo of him and me together in a hot tub with a bunch of working girls on that ranch on his Facebook page that has allowed me to add the title of having an ex-wife to my list of accomplishments."
"Renfield often has the habit of leaving chaos in his wake," the Kraken acknowledged.
"Yes, you should try Renfield's primordial void soup," Medusa grimaced, "I was sick for days afterwards."
"I must admit it didn't go well with my Kraken digestive system either," Napoleon VI recalled.
"Can I get a selfie with you and Medusa together?" The dude asked, "My golfing buddies will be so thrilled with you Mr. Kraken and my children will go nuts over seeing you Medusa with your head attached and minus all those slithering creepy crawly viper venomous reptiles in your curly locks of hair."
"Sure," the Kraken and Medusa agreed.
As they got their picture taken with the dude's smart phone, Bernie Sanders was walking along the beach handing out his Presidential campaign literature.
"Excuse me," Sen. Sanders addressed them, "but you three aren't registered Democrats by any chance are you?".
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Sunday May 15th 2016.
Friday, May 13, 2016
Renfield Meets Queen Elizabeth II
Renfield Meets Queen Elizabeth II
Renfield R. Renfield was feeling quite jealous of Amadeus Emanon these days.
Amadeus was getting lots of dates with beautiful women.
While he, Renfield, was striking out with beautiful women left, right and center.
He would definitely be ineligible to sign on as a designated hitter with a Major League Baseball team.
To top it off, Amadeus had recently been invited to a Royal event to mark Her Majesty The Queen's 90th Birthday.
And Renfield had received no invitation from the Palace to attend anything.
Still Renfield had heard that Her Majesty would be holding yet another Royal Garden Tea Party to celebrate Her 90th year.
So Renfield decided to shapeshift into a hamster and enter the event that way.
And that's exactly what he did.
He scurried under a table where he promptly shapeshifted back into his human form.
Then he crawled back out from under the table.
Just as Her Majesty The Queen was helping herself to a watercress sandwich.
"Oh dear, " said the Queen, "did you lose something?".
"Yes, I seem to have lost my pen given to me by my favourite grandmother," Renfield answered.
"Good heavens," said the Queen sympathetically, "I hope you found it."
"I did," Renfield pulled out a Moonlite Bunny Ranch Nevada pen from inside his vest pocket and quickly put it back before Her Majesty could read the logo.
"Is your favourite grandmother still alive?" The Queen asked.
"No," Renfield shook his head, "she was killed last year while big game hunting in Africa."
"Great Heavens," said the Queen.
"Yes, she was mistaken for an American dentist by a lioness girlfriend of the late lamented lion Cecil of Zimbabwe," Renfield spoke in pseudo-mournful tones.
"How awful," said the Queen.
"Yes, it didn't make for a pretty picture," Renfield agreed, "although surprisingly the picture did go viral on Instagram, Facebook and Twitter."
"And you are...?" The Queen extended her hand.
"Mr. Renfield R. Renfield," Renfield shook Her Majesty's hand and bowed.
"Renfield R. Renfield?" Her Majesty repeated the name, "Funny, I don't recall seeing that name on the invitation list."
"Well I occasionally do clandestine work on behalf of both MI-5 and MI- 6," Renfield answered, "so my name is very hush-hush. Top secret in other words."
"Oh, I see," the Queen nodded, "do you understand intelligence service code?".
"Some," Renfield nodded.
"Well as you know," the Queen said, "I was recently caught on camera saying that some Chinese government officials were very rude during last year's state visit by President Xi Jinping. Today I got a message from the British Embassy in Beijing saying that the said officials had just "got their buns tomatoed by Sherrielock Holmes for their rudeness". I take it that's some sort of code."
"Um... yes it is," Renfield's face turned as white as a hamster's."
"Hello, Renfield," a smiling Sherrielock Holmes stood behind the Queen.
"I'll leave you two alone," the Queen went over to talk to the French Ambassador to London.
Sherrielock Holmes was dressed in a red rose emblazoned white cocktail dress instead of her usual leather skirted dominatrix attire.
"I take it you snuck into this garden party without an invitation," Sherrielock smiled an even wider smile.
"Well... uh," Renfield turned as pale as the moon when it had eaten too much green cheese on a moonlit evening.
Sherrielock opened her dragon leathered Gucci purse and threw out Paris Hilton's pet Chihuahua and brought out a whip.
"No," Renfield pleaded.
Renfield's cries were drowned out by the 21-gun salute for the Queen.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday May 13th 2016.
Renfield R. Renfield was feeling quite jealous of Amadeus Emanon these days.
Amadeus was getting lots of dates with beautiful women.
While he, Renfield, was striking out with beautiful women left, right and center.
He would definitely be ineligible to sign on as a designated hitter with a Major League Baseball team.
To top it off, Amadeus had recently been invited to a Royal event to mark Her Majesty The Queen's 90th Birthday.
And Renfield had received no invitation from the Palace to attend anything.
Still Renfield had heard that Her Majesty would be holding yet another Royal Garden Tea Party to celebrate Her 90th year.
So Renfield decided to shapeshift into a hamster and enter the event that way.
And that's exactly what he did.
He scurried under a table where he promptly shapeshifted back into his human form.
Then he crawled back out from under the table.
Just as Her Majesty The Queen was helping herself to a watercress sandwich.
"Oh dear, " said the Queen, "did you lose something?".
"Yes, I seem to have lost my pen given to me by my favourite grandmother," Renfield answered.
"Good heavens," said the Queen sympathetically, "I hope you found it."
"I did," Renfield pulled out a Moonlite Bunny Ranch Nevada pen from inside his vest pocket and quickly put it back before Her Majesty could read the logo.
"Is your favourite grandmother still alive?" The Queen asked.
"No," Renfield shook his head, "she was killed last year while big game hunting in Africa."
"Great Heavens," said the Queen.
"Yes, she was mistaken for an American dentist by a lioness girlfriend of the late lamented lion Cecil of Zimbabwe," Renfield spoke in pseudo-mournful tones.
"How awful," said the Queen.
"Yes, it didn't make for a pretty picture," Renfield agreed, "although surprisingly the picture did go viral on Instagram, Facebook and Twitter."
"And you are...?" The Queen extended her hand.
"Mr. Renfield R. Renfield," Renfield shook Her Majesty's hand and bowed.
"Renfield R. Renfield?" Her Majesty repeated the name, "Funny, I don't recall seeing that name on the invitation list."
"Well I occasionally do clandestine work on behalf of both MI-5 and MI- 6," Renfield answered, "so my name is very hush-hush. Top secret in other words."
"Oh, I see," the Queen nodded, "do you understand intelligence service code?".
"Some," Renfield nodded.
"Well as you know," the Queen said, "I was recently caught on camera saying that some Chinese government officials were very rude during last year's state visit by President Xi Jinping. Today I got a message from the British Embassy in Beijing saying that the said officials had just "got their buns tomatoed by Sherrielock Holmes for their rudeness". I take it that's some sort of code."
"Um... yes it is," Renfield's face turned as white as a hamster's."
"Hello, Renfield," a smiling Sherrielock Holmes stood behind the Queen.
"I'll leave you two alone," the Queen went over to talk to the French Ambassador to London.
Sherrielock Holmes was dressed in a red rose emblazoned white cocktail dress instead of her usual leather skirted dominatrix attire.
"I take it you snuck into this garden party without an invitation," Sherrielock smiled an even wider smile.
"Well... uh," Renfield turned as pale as the moon when it had eaten too much green cheese on a moonlit evening.
Sherrielock opened her dragon leathered Gucci purse and threw out Paris Hilton's pet Chihuahua and brought out a whip.
"No," Renfield pleaded.
Renfield's cries were drowned out by the 21-gun salute for the Queen.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday May 13th 2016.
Wednesday, May 11, 2016
Amadeus Gets A Cheesecake and Renfield Gets A Walloping
Amadeus Gets A Cheesecake and Renfield Gets Walloped
Amadeus Emanon was sitting in a London tea shop with the New Orleans songstress and stage actress vampiress Angelique Dumont.
"I hear this stage magician Salaman the Magician puts on a wonderful show," Angelique said reading a review in one of the London entertainment weeklies.
"He does," Amadeus nodded, "I saw him a couple of weeks ago. I'm still totally mystified as to how he does his tricks. Like nothing I've ever seen.
Even better than Houdini, David Copperfield and Criss Angel in my opinion."
"You saw Salaman the Magician?" Angelique raised an eyebrow, "By yourself?".
"No, I was with Dulcinea Lucia," Amadeus replied.
"The gypsy fortune teller?" Angelique raised her other eyebrow.
"That's right," Amadeus nodded again.
"You went on a date with Dulcinea Lucia?" Angelique glared at Amadeus.
"That is correct," Amadeus put some honey in his tea.
"But I thought you and I were an item," Angelique's face flushed as red as her rouge red lipstick and her dinner the night before.
"I didn't know we were an item," Amadeus Emanon looked as surprised as a child's face on Christmas morning.
"You didn't know we were an item?" Angelique grabbed a piece of cheesecake off a passing waiter's tray and shoved it in Amadeus' face.
"Speaking of items, I didn't know cheesecake was on the menu," Amadeus wiped the cheesecake off his face.
. . .
In another corner of the tea shop, Renfield R. Renfield had his eyes on a very attractive woman wearing a green evening dress.
Renfield had recently been advised by his co-worker and fellow employee at Set Enterprises Dr. Cadbury Rocher that he needed to be more subtle in his approach with women.
Not to come on so strong.
Renfield decided to try this new approach that he had never before attempted.
So he walked past the woman and sang in a loud operatic style baritone voice, "Birds do it, bees do it, even dogs and trees do it..."
Purses apparently do it as well.
Because Renfield found himself clobbered over the head with the woman's rather heavy purse and found himself lying on the floor with the woman in the green evening dress stepping over him and leaving the restaurant.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday May 10th
2016.
Amadeus Emanon was sitting in a London tea shop with the New Orleans songstress and stage actress vampiress Angelique Dumont.
"I hear this stage magician Salaman the Magician puts on a wonderful show," Angelique said reading a review in one of the London entertainment weeklies.
"He does," Amadeus nodded, "I saw him a couple of weeks ago. I'm still totally mystified as to how he does his tricks. Like nothing I've ever seen.
Even better than Houdini, David Copperfield and Criss Angel in my opinion."
"You saw Salaman the Magician?" Angelique raised an eyebrow, "By yourself?".
"No, I was with Dulcinea Lucia," Amadeus replied.
"The gypsy fortune teller?" Angelique raised her other eyebrow.
"That's right," Amadeus nodded again.
"You went on a date with Dulcinea Lucia?" Angelique glared at Amadeus.
"That is correct," Amadeus put some honey in his tea.
"But I thought you and I were an item," Angelique's face flushed as red as her rouge red lipstick and her dinner the night before.
"I didn't know we were an item," Amadeus Emanon looked as surprised as a child's face on Christmas morning.
"You didn't know we were an item?" Angelique grabbed a piece of cheesecake off a passing waiter's tray and shoved it in Amadeus' face.
"Speaking of items, I didn't know cheesecake was on the menu," Amadeus wiped the cheesecake off his face.
. . .
In another corner of the tea shop, Renfield R. Renfield had his eyes on a very attractive woman wearing a green evening dress.
Renfield had recently been advised by his co-worker and fellow employee at Set Enterprises Dr. Cadbury Rocher that he needed to be more subtle in his approach with women.
Not to come on so strong.
Renfield decided to try this new approach that he had never before attempted.
So he walked past the woman and sang in a loud operatic style baritone voice, "Birds do it, bees do it, even dogs and trees do it..."
Purses apparently do it as well.
Because Renfield found himself clobbered over the head with the woman's rather heavy purse and found himself lying on the floor with the woman in the green evening dress stepping over him and leaving the restaurant.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday May 10th
2016.
Sunday, May 8, 2016
The Dangling Outlaw: A Poem
The Dangling Outlaw: A Poem
(inspired by a comment I posted on my friend Sherrie de Valeria's blog:
https://
)
So gather around the campfire friends while I tell the tale
A tale that will make your faces ghostly pale
It's the story of the Dangling Outlaw
a tale that will make your skin craw'
Sam Ryan was his name
Outlawing was his game
He robbed trains
splattered brains
of men he shot in the street
keeping his vest and tie neat
He robbed banks
never said thanks
He rustled cattle
and stole a baby's rattle
Sam Ryan was as mean as mean could be
and dangled many a saloon girl on his knee
He laid them here
He laid them there
He laid them almost everywhere
like eggs from the Easter Bunny- that noble hare
Finally one day a posse was rounded up
and as Sam slept at the bar holding on to a cup
He was grabbed and taken away
The posse rode for many a day
until on the bare prairie
they found a lone tall tree
They threw a rope to the tallest branch
These men from the Double Square Ranch
And into the noose went Ryan's head
Grinned the sheriff, "You'll soon be dead"
They kicked the box from under him
And stood around drinking gin
But Ryan dangled and shouted "Never say die"
And as both the crow and time did fly
every one of the posse eventually succumbed to the Grim Reaper
And Sam lived 100 years into the Decade of the Beeper
but technology changed and so did the seasons
Why was Sam still alive? The universe has its reasons
30 years have passed since the Decade of the Beeper
And now Toms use their smart phone cameras to be a peeper
And occasionally they take a picture of Dangling Sam
And continue on their way without giving a damn
And Sam Ryan outlaw still dangles by rope on that lone prairie tree
He's had nothing to drink so nothing to pee
He still shouts at the top of his lungs
Far and wide as the prairie grass sprungs
"Never say die!" "Never say die!"
Great lines on silver screen come and go such as "Here's looking at you, kid" and "Mud in your eye"
But like repetitive parrot or Shakespearian actor who's forgotten his lines
Sam says the same thing over and over into these 2016 times
"Never say die!" Never say die!".
-A western narrative poem
written by Christopher
Sunday May 8th 2016.
(inspired by a comment I posted on my friend Sherrie de Valeria's blog:
https://
)
So gather around the campfire friends while I tell the tale
A tale that will make your faces ghostly pale
It's the story of the Dangling Outlaw
a tale that will make your skin craw'
Sam Ryan was his name
Outlawing was his game
He robbed trains
splattered brains
of men he shot in the street
keeping his vest and tie neat
He robbed banks
never said thanks
He rustled cattle
and stole a baby's rattle
Sam Ryan was as mean as mean could be
and dangled many a saloon girl on his knee
He laid them here
He laid them there
He laid them almost everywhere
like eggs from the Easter Bunny- that noble hare
Finally one day a posse was rounded up
and as Sam slept at the bar holding on to a cup
He was grabbed and taken away
The posse rode for many a day
until on the bare prairie
they found a lone tall tree
They threw a rope to the tallest branch
These men from the Double Square Ranch
And into the noose went Ryan's head
Grinned the sheriff, "You'll soon be dead"
They kicked the box from under him
And stood around drinking gin
But Ryan dangled and shouted "Never say die"
And as both the crow and time did fly
every one of the posse eventually succumbed to the Grim Reaper
And Sam lived 100 years into the Decade of the Beeper
but technology changed and so did the seasons
Why was Sam still alive? The universe has its reasons
30 years have passed since the Decade of the Beeper
And now Toms use their smart phone cameras to be a peeper
And occasionally they take a picture of Dangling Sam
And continue on their way without giving a damn
And Sam Ryan outlaw still dangles by rope on that lone prairie tree
He's had nothing to drink so nothing to pee
He still shouts at the top of his lungs
Far and wide as the prairie grass sprungs
"Never say die!" "Never say die!"
Great lines on silver screen come and go such as "Here's looking at you, kid" and "Mud in your eye"
But like repetitive parrot or Shakespearian actor who's forgotten his lines
Sam says the same thing over and over into these 2016 times
"Never say die!" Never say die!".
-A western narrative poem
written by Christopher
Sunday May 8th 2016.
Friday, May 6, 2016
Renfield's Speech To BAEEBV 5 Years Ago Today
"Do you recall what you did on this day 5 years ago today?" Amadeus asked Renfield.
"No," Renfield suddenly looked nervous.
He wondered what incriminating photo or video Amadeus might have had on him of what he did 5 years ago today.
"It was 5 years ago today that you gave a speech to the British Association of Employees Employed By Vampires better known as BAEEBV," Amadeus pointed out.
"Oh that," Renfield grinned.
Yes, that was back on May 6th 2011.
Renfield recalled getting a standing ovation for that speech.
As well as a blow job from a rising young pop music starlet afterwards.
Renfield sat there with a huge smile on his face.
"I have a video of your best moment that day," Amadeus showed him a video on his laptop's YouTube page.
"You do?" Renfield turned as pale as the silvery moon on a South Seas night.
Had Amadeus filmed his encounter with the rising young pop music starlet?
The video started playing.
It was of the best line that Renfield had delivered that evening- a paraphrase of a line from Lewis Carroll's poem The Walrus and The Carpenter in his book Through The Looking Glass.
"The time has come," Renfield said, "to talk of many things- of psychic lobsters and werewolves and lycanthropic MPs, of how Dracul Van Helsing manages to get vampiresses down on their knees."
"You know," Amadeus spoke up, "I understand the reference to psychic lobsters- that's Michelangelo. And the reference to werewolves and lycanthropic MPs- that's to Welsh werewolf British Labour MP Magog Rhys Petley. But what did you mean by Dracul Van Helsing managing to get vampiresses to their knees?".
"Well," Renfield's face turned red with jealousy, "Dracul Van Helsing seems to have the ability to get beautiful vampiresses to make out with him. I've never been able to get a beautiful vampiress to make out with me."
"You haven't been too successful with many beautiful mortal women either," Amadeus bit into his peanut butter and avocado sandwich.
"Harrumph," Renfield pouted.
Still that rising young pop music starlet had performed a huge favour on him the night of his standing ovation speech.
Then again, that gun he held to her head, the resulting action may not have been a result of her free will affection for him.
Still she had done the deed.
Which was more than could be said for the 99 other rising young pop music starlets whose brains (or lack thereof!) he had been forced to blow to kingdom come when they refused to blow on his sword.
Their deaths were still listed as unsolved in Interpol files.
And the poor Illuminati were taking the heat for his dastardly deeds in most on-line conspiracy theorist videos.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday May 6th
2016.
Thursday, May 5, 2016
Qonzilqointec and Dracul See Pope Francis Wearing A Cowboy Hat
Qonzilqointec and Dracul See Pope Francis Wearing A Cowboy Hat
The Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec and Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing were in Her Vampiric Highness' exclusive Mexico City penthouse apartment enjoying an exquisite meal and a bottle of the best Burgundy wine after a great evening of seeing Cinco de Mayo festivities.
The Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec was wearing a fiery red evening dress emblazoned with black lace around the arm sleeves.
Dracul Van Helsing was wearing a Humphrey Bogart Casablanca white style dinner jacket tuxedo and black bow tie.
"We're having roast lobster as the main entree," Qonzilqointec smiled.
"Lovely," Dracul nodded, "as long as it's not my friend Michelangelo."
"Speaking of which," Qonzilqointec smiled showing her white vampiric incisor fangs, "how did Set Enterprises' resident mad scientist Dr. Cadbury Rocher manage to genetically create Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster?".
"Well," Dracul sipped his Burgundy wine,"I understand he extracted DNA from lobsters in a certain region of the world which according to a rare and unknown work of Herodotus that he had in his possession- these lobsters were said to have advanced psychic powers according to Ancient Greek sailors of the time who had ingested too much of the opium poppy."
"Who had ingested too much of the opium poppy?" Qonzilqointec asked, "the lobsters or the Greek sailors?".
"I'm not quite sure," Dracul looked reflective, "Dr. Cadbury Rocher was somewhat incoherent after downing a dozen glasses of Tennessee bourbon."
"And who had downed the dozen glasses of Tennessee bourbon?" Qonzilqointec smiled again, "You or Dr. Rocher?".
"I believe we were tied for twelve apiece at that point," Dracul recalled.
"And where in the world did he get those psychic lobsters whose DNA he extracted to genetically create Michelangelo?" Qonzilqointec smiled yet again.
Qonzilqointec had been used to smiling all evening for the 550-year-old Aztec vampiress had been mistaken by numerous American tourists for actress Salma Hayek (whose identical twin sister she could have easily passed for) at Cinco de Mayo festivities and they wanted their selfies taken with Qonzilqointec for uploads to Facebook and Instagram.
"Well according to a friend of mine who's a former U.S. Army Special Operations officer and former DARPA employee," Dracul recalled, "Dr. Cadbury Rocher had sent a group of beautiful but fierce warrioresses who called themselves the Sisterhood of the Black Dragons on a secret mission to the Black and Caspian Seas just prior to creating Michelangelo. So my friend who operated under the Special Ops code name Jack Daniels believes that it's probably in the Black Sea and Caspian Sea regions of the world where these psychic lobsters are found."
"That's interesting," Qonzilqointec wiped her mouth with a handkerchief after taking a large bite of lobster.
On the television in the living room which had the sound turned down, Donald Trump was telling Ohio Gov. John Kasich to take "Small bites. Small bites."
"Why is that interesting?" Dracul Van Helsing likewise took a large bite of lobster.
On the TV in the living room, Sarah Palin could be seen performing the Heimlich maneuver on John Kasich.
"Because these lobsters I ordered flown in fresh for this special occasion," Qonzilqointec sipped her Burgundy wine, "happen to come from the Black and Caspian Seas."
At that moment, both Qonzilqointec and Dracul Van Helsing had psychic visions by which they were teleported to the Vatican where they saw Pope Francis in his bedroom.
Pope Francis was on his way to an Ascension Day papal audience where he was to meet a group of real western cowboys from the western U.S. state of Wyoming.
Pope Francis had been advised by Cardinal Gianfranco Ravasi and Cardinal Walter Kasper that when the cowboys are in Rome to do as the cowboys do.
So Pope Francis was wearing a pair of tight fitting blue jeans, buckled leather belt, red and black plaid shirt and a 10 gallon white Stetson cowboy hat.
He was looking at himself in his full length dressing mirror.
Pope Francis began singing that old Mac Davis country and western song,
"Oh Lord, it's hard to be humble
When you're perfect in every way...
I guess it has somethin' to do with the way
That I fill out my skin tight blue jeans."
Pope Francis looked down at the way he filled out his skin tight blue jeans.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Thursday May 5th
2016.
The Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec and Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing were in Her Vampiric Highness' exclusive Mexico City penthouse apartment enjoying an exquisite meal and a bottle of the best Burgundy wine after a great evening of seeing Cinco de Mayo festivities.
The Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec was wearing a fiery red evening dress emblazoned with black lace around the arm sleeves.
Dracul Van Helsing was wearing a Humphrey Bogart Casablanca white style dinner jacket tuxedo and black bow tie.
"We're having roast lobster as the main entree," Qonzilqointec smiled.
"Lovely," Dracul nodded, "as long as it's not my friend Michelangelo."
"Speaking of which," Qonzilqointec smiled showing her white vampiric incisor fangs, "how did Set Enterprises' resident mad scientist Dr. Cadbury Rocher manage to genetically create Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster?".
"Well," Dracul sipped his Burgundy wine,"I understand he extracted DNA from lobsters in a certain region of the world which according to a rare and unknown work of Herodotus that he had in his possession- these lobsters were said to have advanced psychic powers according to Ancient Greek sailors of the time who had ingested too much of the opium poppy."
"Who had ingested too much of the opium poppy?" Qonzilqointec asked, "the lobsters or the Greek sailors?".
"I'm not quite sure," Dracul looked reflective, "Dr. Cadbury Rocher was somewhat incoherent after downing a dozen glasses of Tennessee bourbon."
"And who had downed the dozen glasses of Tennessee bourbon?" Qonzilqointec smiled again, "You or Dr. Rocher?".
"I believe we were tied for twelve apiece at that point," Dracul recalled.
"And where in the world did he get those psychic lobsters whose DNA he extracted to genetically create Michelangelo?" Qonzilqointec smiled yet again.
Qonzilqointec had been used to smiling all evening for the 550-year-old Aztec vampiress had been mistaken by numerous American tourists for actress Salma Hayek (whose identical twin sister she could have easily passed for) at Cinco de Mayo festivities and they wanted their selfies taken with Qonzilqointec for uploads to Facebook and Instagram.
"Well according to a friend of mine who's a former U.S. Army Special Operations officer and former DARPA employee," Dracul recalled, "Dr. Cadbury Rocher had sent a group of beautiful but fierce warrioresses who called themselves the Sisterhood of the Black Dragons on a secret mission to the Black and Caspian Seas just prior to creating Michelangelo. So my friend who operated under the Special Ops code name Jack Daniels believes that it's probably in the Black Sea and Caspian Sea regions of the world where these psychic lobsters are found."
"That's interesting," Qonzilqointec wiped her mouth with a handkerchief after taking a large bite of lobster.
On the television in the living room which had the sound turned down, Donald Trump was telling Ohio Gov. John Kasich to take "Small bites. Small bites."
"Why is that interesting?" Dracul Van Helsing likewise took a large bite of lobster.
On the TV in the living room, Sarah Palin could be seen performing the Heimlich maneuver on John Kasich.
"Because these lobsters I ordered flown in fresh for this special occasion," Qonzilqointec sipped her Burgundy wine, "happen to come from the Black and Caspian Seas."
At that moment, both Qonzilqointec and Dracul Van Helsing had psychic visions by which they were teleported to the Vatican where they saw Pope Francis in his bedroom.
Pope Francis was on his way to an Ascension Day papal audience where he was to meet a group of real western cowboys from the western U.S. state of Wyoming.
Pope Francis had been advised by Cardinal Gianfranco Ravasi and Cardinal Walter Kasper that when the cowboys are in Rome to do as the cowboys do.
So Pope Francis was wearing a pair of tight fitting blue jeans, buckled leather belt, red and black plaid shirt and a 10 gallon white Stetson cowboy hat.
He was looking at himself in his full length dressing mirror.
Pope Francis began singing that old Mac Davis country and western song,
"Oh Lord, it's hard to be humble
When you're perfect in every way...
I guess it has somethin' to do with the way
That I fill out my skin tight blue jeans."
Pope Francis looked down at the way he filled out his skin tight blue jeans.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Thursday May 5th
2016.
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