The Giant Rat of Sumatra Part VI

"The Steinenfrank Circus appointed me as its agent for looking after the animals while on this voyage," Hemlock the Magician pulled a document out of his cloak pocket, "seeing as how Vittoria and I have been hired to perform for the Steinenfrank Circus over the next few months."

"May I see that document?" the lawyers Morrison and Dodd asked in unison but it was Dodd who grabbed it first.

While Morrison and Dodd read and salivated over the legal jargon in the document which named Hemlock the Magician as the agent and legal representative of the Steinenfrank Circus Company on the voyage of the Matilda Briggs from the East Indies back to England, the rest of the group walked down the stairs to the lower decks where the caged animals were kept.

Vittoria Donna Gina held her long beautiful red dress high above her ankles so as not to get it dirty on the floor.

Both the eyes of Hemlock and Holmes seemed to be gazing appreciatively at the black silk nylon stockings legs of Vittoria.

Captain Heelander seemed to be the last of the group to come down the stairs.

He skipped and jumped merrily down the stairs singing a song of his own invention, "Oh, I'm a lumberjack and I'm okay, I skip and jump, I like to press wild flowers..."

"Please for the reputation of the crew of the Matilda Briggs," First Mate Leonard Spock begged, "please do not finish the rest of the song, Captain."

Hemlock finally took his eyes off the sexy nylon legs of Vittoria and introduced the animals.

"This," Hemlock said, "is a Sumatran tiger."

The tiger emitted a loud thunderous roar.

"We call him Krakatoa," Hemlock explained.

The magician then walked over to the next cage and said, "This is a Sumatran orangutan."

The orangutan bellowed and thumped his chest.

"We call him Darwin," smiled Hemlock underneath his mask.

Hemlock walked over to the next cage, "These are Sumatran elephants, a mother and her calf. The mother we call Lady Godiva and the calf we call Goliath."

Lady Godiva ate some grasses that lined the floor of the cage while Goliath stared at the on-lookers and yawned.

"And this," Hemlock went over to the next cage, "is the Sumatran Striped Rabbit also called the Sumatran short-eared rabbit because its ears aren't very big."

"Indeed his ears aren't very big," Mr. Spock commented as he viewed the rabbit through the bars.

"We call this rabbit Ides of March," Hemlock said.

"That rabbit seems to be eating romaine lettuce and bread croutons topped with parmesan cheese," Holmes remarked.

"And this," Hemlock walked over to the smallest cage of them all- what looked to be little bigger than a bird cage, "is a Dayak Fruit Bat."

"I'm batty about fruit too," Captain Heelander did a small pirouette and giggled like a schoolgirl.


"We call this old bat Brassy Maggy," Hemlock said, "it was caught by an English roof thatcher on holidays in Sumatra."

"The animals look to be all healthy," Fred Clegg remarked, "and what animal is in this largest cage of all? Even bigger than the elephant cage? And seems to be covered with a black cloth all around?".

"The animal in that cage won't be seen by anyone until the spring opening night of Steinenfrank's Circus one week away," Hemlock replied.

"Well, then how can I tell if it's healthy or not?" Fred Clegg asked.

"You'll have to take my word for it," Hemlock answered.

Vittoria spoke, "Let's go up on deck now and look at the moonlight."

Holmes meanwhile appeared to have dropped his pipe on the floor and seemed to be looking up Vittoria's dress as he picked it up.

"And what are you looking at, Mr. Holmes?" Hemlock asked as he adjusted his golden mask.

To be continued.

The Giant Rat of Sumatra Part V

"You've heard of me?" Vittoria Donna Gina batted her eyelashes at Sherlock Holmes.

"When I was a boy," Holmes emptied the ashes of his pipe on the floor and put his pipe back in his pocket, "I did have a fantasy about running away and joining the circus which was cured the day I did visit a circus and stepped in some elephant dung. I did follow the career of some circus performers however. And when you burst on the carnival scene 5 years ago as the Singing Lion Tamer, I followed your career. I heard you had the voice of a nightingale. And I loved the way you used the whip on those lions in your photos."

"She no longer tames lions," said a man wearing a golden mask that resembled the face of Tragedy from the old Greek dramas, "she's assumed a more submissive role."

"Sounds like an article from The Pearl," Dodd stated referring to a notorious underground erotic journal of the day, "or at least that's what I've been told by others." The lawyer blushed.

"I'm surprised that being a lawyer, you'd still suffer from a sense of shame," Fred Clegg quipped when he noticed the blushing solicitor.

Holmes gazed intently at the Man in the Mask.

The Man in the Mask blinked his eyes under Holmes' gaze and explained, "My face was burnt in a fire some years ago."

"This is Hemlock the Magician," Vittoria Donna Gina introduced the Man in the Golden Mask.

"My stage name," the masked magician offered his hand to Holmes but the consulting detective didn't take it to shake it.

"I didn't think your parents would give you a Christian name like that," Holmes retorted sourly, "unless of course they were modern German philosophers who would naturally despise the father of Socratic reasoning."

Anger seemed to flare in the eyes of the Man in the Golden Mask.

"I haven't read of your exploits for quite a while," Holmes' gaze turned back to the lovely Vittoria Donna Gina.

"I've been touring in the Far East," Vittoria explained, "Shanghai, Manila, Bangkok, the East Indies."

"And you're no longer an exquisitely dressed singing lion tamer with a whip?" Holmes looked disappointed.

"She's now a magician's assistant," Hemlock the Magician broke in, "she now SERVES under me."

The atmosphere of tension in the air between the two men- Holmes and Hemlock- could be felt by all.

"What say we go down to the lower decks and view the animals in their cages?" Clegg suggested.

"And hopefully we won't come across any drunken Noahs in their nakedness." Holmes' walking stick seemed to deliberately touch the bottom of Hemlock the Magician's cloak.


To be continued.

The Giant Rat of Sumatra Part IV

"Arrrh, have you ever been to sea, Billy?" Captain Heelander tugged on First Mate Leonard Spock's sleeve as he came to, "There's nothing fresher though than fresh fish from the sea. Would you like to eat my fish, Billy? Arrrr! I tell you Billy, when the ship is tossing and turning on the ocean and it's a cold and windswept rainswept night, I need something to keep warm in my cabin, Billy. Will you help keep me warm beside you, Billy and I'll show you what I have down below. Arrrr!"

First Mate Leonard Spock quickly removed himself from Captain Heelander's grip.

"Well this explains why our ship's cabin boy Billy chose to face head hunters in Borneo rather than return with us to England," Mr. Spock quipped.

"This is not the only steam engine you have," Sherlock Holmes mentioned to Scotty as the ship's engineer held the exploded valve in his hands.

"No, but this one didn't work our entire voyage to the East Indies and back," Scotty answered, "I only got it working finally a couple of miles off shore from here."

"This particular steam engine wasn't manufactured by our client," Manny Morrison noted as he looked at the manufacturer's name on the steam engine with the exploded valve, "so you can't hold us responsible for this one."

"I take it that it was this steam engine over here that was partly destroyed under mysterious circumstances," Holmes walked over to the larger steam engine.

"Those look like huge teeth marks on what remains of this engine," the veterinarian Fred Clegg observed.

"Indeed," Holmes nodded, "as if something gigantic had taken a huge bite out of the engine and decided not to eat the rest."

"The part that was eaten was the part which had the manufacturer's name on it," Derek Dodd wiped his glasses in lawyerly triumph, "so one can't really prove our client made this one either."

"My employers have the bill of receipt signed by your client's company," Captain Heelander spoke as he had a pink strawberry cocktail handed him by the ship's bartender.

"Bills of receipt can be forged," Manny Morrison stated solemnly.

"And indeed, Manny, you ought to know about that," Dodd laughed then cleared his throat and looked serious when he noticed everyone staring at him.

Morrison made the Masonic motion of having one's throat slit and one's bowels disembowelled to Dodd for the verbal slip-up he had just made.

"Why is this steam engine that looks to be eaten," Holmes inquired, "why is it orange and yellow in colour while the engine whose steam valve just exploded is coloured black?".

"I'm afraid that's due to my little Billy," Captain Heelander seemed to hop, skip and jump over to where Holmes was standing, "my little Billy was a great admirer of the painter Vincent Van Gogh with his bright and vibrant yellow colours. Vincent has been dead almost four years now. I never met the man but I got to know him through Billy's talk of him. I allowed Billy to paint this engine a vibrant yellow and orange in honour of Vincent."

"Vincent Van Gogh," Mr. Spock tugged at the knob of one of his large pointed ears, "I've never heard of him."

Captain Heelander pulled a daffodil out of his pocket and smelled it, "I could have told you Vincent this world was never meant for one as beautiful as you."

"Aside from part of this engine," Holmes blew smoke rings, "you say the only other things missing on this voyage were two tons of cheese."

"That is correct, Mr. Holmes," First Mate Spock nodded.

"But this is fantastic," Holmes pounded one solid fist into his other hand.

"Have you solved the case, Mr. Holmes?" Captain Heelander pranced and danced about the room with the daffodil stuck between his teeth.

"Well, I see one wouldn't have to worry about contracting scurvy on this voyage," Holmes quipped as he observed the prancing and dancing of Captain Heelander.

"Is our client left off the hook?" Morrison and Dodd asked in joyful unison.

"What say we go and look at those cages of animals bound for Steinenfrank's Circus?" Holmes stated.

"Is the answer to be found there?" Morrison twirled his moustache.

"I suspect so," Holmes opened the door of the engine room...

... and...

... there stood the most beautiful woman Holmes had ever seen in his life.

Beautiful long dark hair. Beautiful penetrating dark eyes. A low-cut red evening dress exquisitely designed and decorated.

"Vittoria Donna Gina," Holmes gasped.

"Who?" Morrison asked.

"I believe," Dodd said as he quietly adjusted his spectacles (and his testicles!), "that Doctor Watson mentioned her in one of his published accounts of Holmes' adventures referring to her as "THE other woman". Holmes has apparently never met her, Watson wrote, but he keeps a photograph of her in his copy of Suetononius' The Lives of the Twelve Caesars at a special place on the bookshelf at 221 B Baker Street in a chair that Holmes only sits in when he gazes at her photograph. A chair that Watson remarks has some rather peculiar stains on it..."

To be continued.

The Giant Rat of Sumatra Part III

"It's a good thing this ship had sails," the captain of the Matilda Briggs said to his first mate, "seeing as how something destroyed our ship's steam engine."

Captain Heelander of the Matilda Briggs stood on the bridge.

"The strangest thing, Captain," said First Mate Leonard Spock, "it almost looks as if someone or something ate a huge piece out of the engine."

"That it does," the Captain shook his head.

Suddenly the two mariners were approached by two men very formally dressed- black suit, black tie, black jacket, black top hat- each man wore.

"I'm Manny Morrison of the firm of Morrison, Morrison and Dodd," the first gentleman introduced himself.

"I'm Derek Dodd of the firm of Morrison, Morrison and Dodd," the second gentleman introduced himself.

"I'm afraid my brother Monty Morrison is down with a bad case of Montezuma's revenge- alas! poor Monty," Manny Morrison looked dutifully sorrowful, "having recently returned from Mexico."

"That's why he isn't here today," Derek Dodd explained.

"How can I help you gentlemen?" Captain Heelander asked, "other than to recommend lots of cheese and dairy products to your visibly absent brother?".

"Speaking of cheese, Captain," First Mate Leonard Spock scratched one of his huge pointed ears, "someone or something has eaten all the two tons of cheese we had down below as well."

"Well, if it's a human culprit," Sherlock Holmes quipped as he strolled aboard the bridge, "he should be easy to catch. Find out who's gotten off the ship and gone to see a physician in Liverpool with the worst case of constipation in all recorded history."

Holmes' colleague the veterinarian Fred Clegg laughed heartily at this remark.

"Aren't you Sherlock Holmes?" Manny Morrison's jaw dropped.

"I am," the world's greatest consulting detective nodded.

"Well, how about this for a coincidence?" Derek Dodd laughed.

"I hope you're not trying to seduce me, Mrs. Robinson," a porter remarked as he went by carrying some luggage for an older yet very attractive middle-aged woman passenger compared to the youthful porter.

"How a coincidence?" Holmes asked as he re-lit his pipe.

"We've been hired by the manufacturer of the ship's steam engine to determine how damage was done to the ship's engine," Dodd explained, "apparently the shipping company that owns the Matilda Briggs is thinking of suing the steam engine's manufacturer for a faultily built steam engine. Yet as legal specialists when it comes to machinery, we believe the damage to the engine was done externally rather than something which was caused internally within the engine."

"So we thought of hiring you to look into this matter," Manny Morrison added, "but when we sent a messenger to your apartment, we were told by your landlady Mrs. Hudson that you were working on another case."

"And we had no idea that this case you were working on would bring you down here to the Matilda Briggs," Dodd added, "we'd like to hire you to determine what caused the damage to the ship's steam engine."

"I already have a client at the moment," Holmes remarked, "still my job only involves bringing some animals for a circus safely to shore. What say we go look at the ship's engine?".

"That seems the logical thing to do, wouldn't you say, Captain?" Mr. Spock looked towards his superior officer.

"Indeed, Mr. Spock," Captain Heelander replied.

They went to the ship's boiler room.

Inside the boiler room, the ship's engineer seemed to be going through some consternation.

The concerned Captain inquired, "What is it, Scotty?"

"Captain, I can-na hold on much longer," Scotty answered in a thick Scottish brogue.

Scotty was trying to stop one of the valves from exploding.

The valve popped and steam shot up towards the ceiling.

One of the ceiling's beams collapsed from the intense steam and fell on top of the Captain.

Before the Captain lost consciousness, he spoke incomprehensibly, "Beam me down, Scotty."


To be continued.

The Giant Rat of Sumatra Part II

Sherlock Holmes rode along in a coach through the streets of Liverpool.

Across from him sat a tall thin man with auburn hair and a prominent auburn moustache and piercing blue eyes.

Holmes noticed the man staring at him intently.

Finally when the man had finished gazing at Holmes, he leaned back in his chair and said, "So you're the world's greatest consulting detective."

Holmes looked back at the man, "So you're an extremely skilled veterinarian who runs an omnibus service through the seaside resort of Morecambe."

The man laughed, "I won't ask you how you know that, Mr. Holmes. I've heard all about your amazing powers of deduction and observation. When people ask you how you know what you do about them, they come off feeling rather foolish because when it's explained to them, it seems so profoundly simple."

"I'm afraid though I can't deduce your name," the detective held out his hand, "I'm Sherlock Holmes."

"Fred Clegg," the man grabbed the detective's hand and shook it in a firm masculine grip, "Nice to meet you."

"I take it you'll be examining the animals as soon as they get off the Matilda Briggs," Holmes said.

"That I will indeed, Mr. Holmes," Clegg nodded, "though I gather most of the animals I'll be examining aren't in my regular area of expertise."

"That's all right," Holmes smiled, "being a ship's nanny to see it pulls into the docks safely isn't my area of expertise as a consulting detective either."

"Indeed it's not," Clegg smiled, "so why are you doing it?".

"The fee is good," Holmes answered, "plus it piqued my curiosity as to why they felt it necessary to have a detective serve as an escort for their animals."

"And what do you intend to do with all the fees you've earned over the years as a consulting detective?" Clegg asked.

"I hope to buy myself a bee farm someday and raise honey," Holmes took his pipe out of his pocket.

"Speaking of honey, I recall hearing once about a bishop of Constantinople who was such a powerful preacher with a golden voice that they called him the honey tongued," Clegg remarked as he looked out the coach window as they passed an Anglican church, "I gather since he was the honey-tongued, he wouldn't be as boring as some of the fellows who preach in pulpits in places like that."

"Ah yes, Saint John Chrysostom- Saint John the Honey-Tongued or St. John the Golden Mouthed," Holmes removed some tobacco out of a pouch, "the famous Patriarch of Constantinople- he whose liturgy is sung in most Eastern Orthodox and Eastern rite Catholic Churches- the Divine Liturgy of St. John Chrysostom. His Feast Day is January 27th- the Feast Day of St. John Chrysostom. Mozart was born on January 27th- that's why his full name was Johannes Chrysostomos Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart."

"An encyclopedic memory, Mr. Holmes," Clegg winked.

"Thank you," Holmes stuck some tobacco in his pipe, "of course having an encyclopedic memory is not always a good thing. What you were saying about boring preachers earlier- one Christmas Eve I was forced to sit through a sermon preached by a Church of England vicar named Rev. Fr. Robert Molyneux who was probably the most boring speaker in history and I do not exaggerate. By the time the fellow finished his long boring totally incomprehensible sermon, the entire congregation, the entire choir, all the altar boys and all the other priests had all fallen asleep and were snoring loudly. I only managed to stay awake by seeing if it was possible to stick pins into one's eyeballs without screaming loudly."

"I take it you succeeded, Mr. Holmes," Clegg smiled.

"Yes, which is more than I can say for Father Molyneux," the consulting detective grimaced, "I suspect the man came from a long pedigree of clerical idiots and will no doubt go on to produce another long line of clerical idiots with each new generation of vicars being more boring and more incomprehensible in their preaching than the last."

"I suspect what you say is very true, Mr. Holmes," the veterinarian nodded.

"Do you mind if I smoke?" Holmes asked before he lit his pipe.

"Go ahead, Mr. Holmes," Clegg waved him on, "I smoke a pipe myself now and again."

"That's good to hear," Holmes lit the pipe and inhaled a long mouthful, "a Lloyd's of London representative had to require urgent medical attention when he sat in my smoke-filled apartment at 221B Baker Street last week when he asked me to take this case."

"Those cufflinks on your sleeves, Mr. Holmes," Clegg pointed, "Egyptian scarab beetles are they not?".

"That is correct," Holmes nodded and looked out the coach window.

Clegg turned in the direction of Holmes' gaze and looked at the street of shops and pubs, "Funny. Those beetles and this street of shops and pubs, I almost had a sense of seeing the future there for a moment."

"Oh?" Holmes looked quizzical.

"Do you think a musical orchestra might someday name itself after beetles?" Clegg asked.

"What an unusual thought to have," Holmes meditated on that, "still if this musical orchestra that names itself after beetles was made up of Liverpool residents, it might be the only possible way that Liverpudlians would ever conquer the world."

Clegg laughed as the coach turned right and veered down a street in the direction of the docks just as the ship Matilda Briggs approached.


To be continued.

The Giant Rat of Sumatra

Matilda Briggs was not the name of a young woman, Watson, . . . It was a ship which is associated with the giant rat of Sumatra, a story for which the world is not yet prepared."
-Sherlock Holmes, The Adventure of the Sussex Vampire, The Case Book of Sherlock Holmes


Doctor John H. Watson had a mass of clients lately so he would not be accompanying Holmes those dreadful few days in the late spring of 1894.

Mr. Sherlock Holmes the world's greatest consulting detective had been approached by a representative of Lloyd's of London to see to a ship the Matilda Briggs when it landed at the docks of Liverpool.

"You think something will happen to the ship on its landing?" Holmes asked as he lit his pipe.

"Well, one of our clients seems particularly interested in making sure the ship arrives safely with all of its goods brought safely to shore," the Lloyd's representative replied.

"And who is this client?" Holmes asked as he blew smoke rings into the air.

"Well, I'm not at liberty to say, Mr. Holmes," the Lloyd's representative answered.

"Then I'm not at liberty to help you," Holmes folded his arms and gazed at his bust of Julius Caesar on the mantle, "before I take a case, I need to know everything up front."

"Well, if you must know the client is a circus," the Lloyd's man blushed.

"A circus?" Holmes gazed with great mirth at the Lloyd's representative.

"The Steinenfrank Circus which hails from York," the Lloyd's man explained, "owned by Mr. Magus Steinenfrank originally from Berlin."

"Magus Steinenfrank," Holmes chewed on the end of his pipe, "wasn't he the one kicked out of Germany for allegedly putting a black magic curse on the penis of the then Crown Prince and currently Kaiser Wilhelm II?".

"Yes, that's the one," the Lloyd's man nodded.

"They say that's the reason why Kaiser Wilhelm has such a long pointed spike atop his Prussian military helment," Holmes mused aloud, "to make up for his shortcomings elsewhere."

"That's what they say," the Lloyd's rep agreed.

"And yet they say old Bismarck's thoroughly exhausted wife keeps telling her maids, 'We've got to sink the Bismarck to the bottom of the sea' so she can finally get some rest," Holmes sucked the sweet Dutch tobacco through his pipe.

"Will you take the case, Holmes?" the Lloyd's man asked.

"I take it Steinenfrank's Circus has some goods on this ship the Matilda Briggs which it wants to see safely ashore," Holmes blew smoke rings in the direction of Julius Caesar's bust.

"That is correct," the Lloyd's man coughed from some of the Holmesian pipe smoke he inhaled, "some exotic animals."

"Exotic animals?" Holmes looked quizzical, "where from?".

"The island of Sumatra," the Lloyd's man coughed vigourously.

"Interesting," Holmes looked at his tin of pipe tobacco, "although the seller of this tobacco has an Amsterdam address, I believe this tobacco itself is from Sumatra as well."

"Then God help us all," the Lloyd's rep sneezed into his handkerchief.

To be continued.

Freedom On Robbie Burns Day

Deep in a cave below the Himalayas of the Tibet-Nepal border region lived the golden cobra whose name was known to few.

It was gazing admiringly at its own reflection in a diamond studded golden mirror.

For like all narcissistic creatures, it was deeply in love with its own self.

Suddenly the snake turned away from its own reflection- something it rarely did.

For it sensed a presence.

A presence that shouldn't be there in this cave.

The cobra turned...

... hissed....

... and spat...

"Dracul Van Helsing vampire hunter and slayer, do you think you can kill me?" the cobra advanced menacingly towards the slayer's head then stopped.

"That sliver of wood you have around your neck," the golden serpent backed away, "at one time they said there was enough of it to make an entire forest in medieval Europe but they were mainly false relics. You have a sliver of the Real Thing if I may quote a Coca-Cola commercial."

"Despite your appearance of being a cobra, I know you're in fact pure spirit and not a material substance and therefore I can't kill you," Dracul said, "but still I haven't come for that. And I find it a relief that demons watch Coca-Cola commercials. It's nice to know that it's not only humanity who suffers."

The cobra glared at the vampire hunter.

"And you're right, I do have a sliver of the True Cross around my neck," Dracul touched its comforting presence, "one personally blessed by both Pope John Paul II and Pope Benedict XVI. I wouldn't venture into this cave without it."

"Sad most visitors who wander in here by mistake only have their American Express cards," the cobra smirked, "something that doesn't help them here."

"I don't imagine the new Visa card with its new technologically enhanced pin code system that the voice of Morgan Freeman assures us is a breakthrough and doesn't work 70% of the time in reality wouldn't help here either," Dracul stated.

"No, it wouldn't," the cobra licked its fangs, "however I'm sure you haven't come here to exchange Oscar Wilde like witticisms on the advertising slogans of modern Madison Avenue."

"No, I haven't, _ _ _ _ _ _," Dracul named the cobra.

The cobra arched its back towards the cave wall and spat and hissed, "You know my name?".

"I do," Dracul said.

"How did you get here anyways?" the cobra asked.

But it then answered its own question using its third eye atop its head.

"Inna Huculak the vampiress secret agent for the Republic of Ukraine," the cobra hissed, "flying one of the lithium battery powered Nikola Tesla prototype flying saucers."

"That's right," Dracul nodded.

"Inna Huculak, a vampiress whose life you spared," the cobra acted the Accuser against the vampire hunter.

"She's good in her heart and she was made a vampiress against her will," Dracul answered.

"What about Svetlana Kireerva the Russian vampiress and agent for the KGB's successor the FSB? A vampiress whose life you also spared on several occasions? Is she good in her heart? She certainly wasn't made a vampiress against her will," the cobra laughed.

Dracul said nothing.

"What do you want from me?" the cobra hissed.

Dracul threw down the note that Renfield R. Renfield had written on the napkin in the Mobius Dyck's House of Tuna Fish Cafe in London.

"Yes," the cobra hissed, "I do owe Renfield a favour. And he's passed that favour on to you? What is it?".

Dracul told him.

The cobra nodded.

Dracul left the cave and walked towards the Nikola Tesla prototype flying saucer driven by the mini skirted vampiress Inna Huculak who flew the craft back towards the United Kingdom.

On the way back, more UFO spotters were posting their cell phone cam shot videos on YouTube.

* * *


The cobra danced and bowed towards its own reflection of itself in the mirror.

As it danced and moved, holographic images of various gods and deities and prophets and messianic style figures in turn danced in a circle around the cobra.

One of the images- an image of the Imam Mahdi left the circle and went across the world to Tehran in the Islamic Republic of Iran and appeared in the bedroom of Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad where it ordered Ahmadinejad to order the release of the political prisoner and accused foreign spy Manuel de Rivera y Vargas (the famous Spanish vampire concert pianist) and his immediate transport out of the country.



* * *

Dracul Van Helsing and Inna Huculak were now in a Scottish pub in Edinburgh, Scotland celebrating Robbie Burns Day.

They were enjoying haggis and a couple of wee drams of Scottish whisky.

Then the Scottish bagpiper played Scotland The Brave and then the Scottish singer sang that old song dedicated to Bonnie Prince Charlie, "Will ye no come back again?".

But as Dracul listened to the lyrics, "will ye no come back again?", it wasn't that bonnie old Prince who led the Rebellion of '45-46 back in 18th Century Scotland that Dracul thought of.

Rather his old friend Manuel de Rivera y Vargas.

A beautiful red headed songstress dressed in a red evening dress then sang Robbie Burns' most famous song, Auld Lang Syne.

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And auld lang syne?

On the tarmac at Tehran Airport, the newly released prisoner Manuel de Rivera y Vargas thin and ragged looking boarded a plane.

For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne,
We'll tak a cup of kindness yet,
For auld lang syne!

In the pub in Edinburgh, Dracul and Inna drank their drams of whisky.

On the plane flying over the Middle East, Manuel drank a cup of blood given him by the Red Cross.

And surely ye'll be your pint-stowp,
And surely I'll be mine,
And we'll tak a cup o kindness yet,
For auld lang syne!

Dracul and Inna then each downed a hardy mouthful of Scottish ale.
On the plane, Manuel ordered a pint of Guinness and downed it eagerly.


The red haired beauty continued with the song and then came to the final verse:

And there's a hand my trusty fiere,
And gie's a hand o thine,
And we'll tak a right guid-willie waught,
For auld lang syne.

Dracul and Inna held hands and finished the pints of ale together.

On a plane now flying over the Sea of Galilee, Manuel pressed his hand towards the plane window near his seat as if to touch that distant star he saw in the distance and as he did so he raised his glass of Guinness in toast to a distant absent friend and then finished his glass.


To be continued.