Michelangelo's Vision of A Donald Trump Presidency
German Chancellor Angela Merkel was anxious to discover who would win the U.S. Presidential election.
So she had paid Set Enterprises' €1 million to find out.
But Set Enterprises' genetically created Psychic Lobster refused to reveal that information.
The German Chancellor was anxious to know what would be the results of a Donald Trump Presidency.
So Set Enterprises' chief resident mad scientist Dr. Cadbury Rocher
posed the question hypothetically to the psychic lobster, "What would a
Donald Trump Presidency be like?".
Michelangelo replied with a series of visions that he sent
telepathically from his lobster antennae to the screen of the computer
he was hooked up to.
All the visions were of Donald Trump sitting in the Oval Office:
1st Vision:
Trump (barking orders to his underlings) : What? How dare the Mexicans
reject my final offer to get them to pay for the wall I'm building? This
makes me look like I'm breaking my campaign promise to my supporters.
Get on the phone to the Pentagon and tell them to nuke Mexico City. This will show them who's boss.
2nd vision:
Trump (still barking orders): What? How dare Pope Francis condemn me as unChristian for nuking Mexico City?
Get on the phone to the Pentagon and tell them to nuke the Vatican.
This will show that godless atheistic communist in a cassock who's truly doing God's work.
3rd Vision:
Trump (still barking) : I didn't like that story CNN's Anderson Cooper did on me last night.
Get on the phone to the Pentagon and tell them to nuke CNN Headquarters in Atlanta.
This will make what General Sherman did look like a Sunday School barbeque.
4th Vision:
Trump (continuously barking): How dare the New York Times condemn me for
nuking Atlanta? It's not my fault the entire city happens to surround
CNN.
Get on the phone to the Pentagon and tell them to nuke the New York
Times Building in New York City. But phone my financial so-called Blind
Trust first and get them to sell all my investments and disperse all my
assets in the Big Apple first.
100th Vision:
Trump (the neverending bark): How dare the Republican governor of New
Mexico condemn me for making a radioactive wasteland of most of the
country and most of the planet?
Get on the phone to the Pentagon and tell them to nuke the state of New
Mexico. But pull any investments I might have in the Santa Fe Railway
first.
665th Vision:
Trump (still hot under his dog collar and barking wildly): How dare the
State of Hawaii vote to secede from the Union saying that it's now
governed by a lunatic tyrant worse than Nero and Caligula put together?
Get on the phone to the Pentagon and tell them to nuke Honolulu. But
sell any real estate and property I might hold in Hawaii first.
666th Vision: How dare the Pentagon refuse my orders to nuke Hawaii
saying that there's not much left of the U.S.A. ? Is it my fault that
there's so many damned traitors to the Commander-In-Chief living in this
country? I'm trying to be Presidential about this.
Get on the phone to the Pentagon and tell them to go nuke themselves.
And that's an order. If they refuse to go nuke themselves, they're
loosing their Armed Forces pensions.
(The resulting atomic mushroom cloud appearing over the Pentagon expands
and falls all over Washington D.C. taking the entire city including the
White House and Oval Office with its barking and raging occupant Donald
Trump with it)
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Wednesday June 1st
2016.
Wednesday, June 1, 2016
Tuesday, May 31, 2016
The Ghost White Salamander
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.
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 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.
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