Renfield Frolics In Nevada While Blizzard Hits Northeastern U.S. and Canada

As a huge blizzard paralyzed the northeastern U.S. and Atlantic Canada, Renfield R. Renfield was busy frolicking on the Cottontail Ranch in Nevada.

Amadeus Emanon sat in the ranch house's waiting room quietly sipping tea while a group of scantily clad, topless and short skirted women asked him, "Is there anything else we can do for you, sir?".

"No, I'm quite happy with the tea, honey and lemon you've served me," Amadeus smiled as he sipped his tea.

A huge banging sound could be heard coming from the room upstairs.

"Are you doing some renovating?" Amadeus asked the short skirted topless blonde woman who was sitting on top of the registry desk with her legs uncrossed.

"No, that would be your friend banging upstairs, sir," was the woman's reply.

"I didn't even know Renfield had studied carpentry," Amadeus looked quizzical.

"Are you sure you wouldn't like to do some banging yourself?" a topless slit skirted Asian woman with spiked stiletto black leather leather boots asked Amadeus.

"No, I never studied carpentry," was Amadeus' answer.

The women in the room sighed.

"Did you even study high school biology?" a short skirted woman with a Jamaican accent asked Amadeus.

"No, I never went to school having been genetically cloned in a lab," was Amadeus'  reply, "I taught myself by reading the books in my boss the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set's library but I never got around to looking at the biology section."

The women looked at one another in huge disbelief even though what Amadeus said was the complete truth.

"And was your friend genetically cloned in a lab as well?" asked the woman from Mumbai, India who was only wearing a red lingerie slip and black silk nylons.

"He was," Amadeus nodded.

"But it sounds from the noise coming upstairs he got around to reading the biology section of your boss' library," the topless short skirted blonde asked him.

"He did," Amadeus smiled as he finished his tea.

"Oh God, oh God," a woman's voice from upstairs screamed in sure ecstasy.

"Renfield must have done a wonderful job renovating your friend's room from the response your friend gave upstairs,"  Amadeus looked in the direction of the ceiling.

"No doubt," the slit skirted woman from Shanghai said.

"But he must be charging an arm and a leg for his work," Amadeus stated sympathetically, "as you seem not able to afford much clothes to pay for his renovations."

All the women just stared at Amadeus in shock.

"I'm finished," Renfield came bounding down the stairs while putting on his clothes at the same time.

"I never knew you did carpentry work," Amadeus put his tea cup down on the registry counter, "and what's more I never knew you did carpentry work in the nude."

Renfield looked at Amadeus in confusion, "What the fuck are you talking about?".

"Well, he wasn't talking about what you just mentioned," the red lingerie clad Indian woman replied, "he was talking about carpentry."

To be continued.

Gingerbread House

Gingerbread house

built for a mouse

and cheese-eating spouse

tripped over by a souse

thoroughly joused

where's Hansel and Gretel?

under the rose petal

waiting for the witch 

to send her to old Pitch

and throw her ashes

down the ditch.

-A poem written by Christopher

 Monday evening January 28th 2013.

Welsh Werewolf At The Inaugural Ball

Welsh werewolf British Labour MP Magog Rhys Petley was feeling a teency weency bit embarrassed.

He had been one of a select group of people invited to watch the small private inauguration ceremony of Barack Obama yesterday in the Blue Room of the White House.

Instead while strolling across the White House lawn, he had suddenly turned into a werewolf beyond his control and had spent the whole time (while the ceremony was taking place) yelping and snarling and baying at the moon (which was actually an ardent Republican supporter showing his naked back side outside the White House fence).

He had finally sniffed his way to the White House kitchen where he opened the refrigerator and drank gallons of buttermilk.

There was something in buttermilk which acted as an antidote to the peculiar kind of werewolf gene he now had in his DNA.

Now here he was tonight at one of the official Inaugural balls watching President and Mrs. Obama as well as Jay-Z and Beyonce dance and he could feel that he was about to turn into a werewolf again.

The Marxist lycanthrope prayed to the non-existent God of the workers' opiate religion that buttermilk would be available up at the cocktail bar.

Sure enough it was and he said a quick thank you to the non-existent (in his mind) Deity above.

He drank 12 glasses of buttermilk and when he had finished, he strolled around the dance floor when he caught a glimpse of a breathtakingly beautiful woman wearing the most exquisite lavender evening dress.

He instantly recognized her as Lepardia Marango the cultural attache at the South African Embassy in London.

The last time he saw her was two weeks ago at a live performance of Andrew Lloyd Webber's The Phantom of the Opera in a West End London theatre.

"Lepardia," the British MP greeted her, "what are you doing here?."

"Well, I just flew in this past Saturday night," Lepardia smiled, "I was officially invited to this Inaugural ball by President Obama himself. Back in 2006, when I was a Grad student at the University of Johannesburg, I had written a letter to the then junior Senator from Illinois telling him that I thought he was a wonderful inspirational individual and that he should really run for President in 2008. He remembered the letter I wrote him apparently and that's why I was invited."

"Delighted you're here," Magog smiled, "would you care to dance?."

"Sure," Lepardia smiled, "only I'm going to get myself a drink first and then we'll dance, okay?".

"That's fine by me," Rhys Petley nodded.

"Hm, she's African eh?" thought conspiracy theorist Alex Jones who had overheard the conversation.

Alex Jones had found that it was as easy for him to sneak into an official Inaugural Ball as it was for him to sneak into a giant owl worshipping ceremony in San Francisco's Bohemian Grove.

"I wonder if being African, she knows where Barack Obama's Kenyan birth certificate is located," Jones bit his lip.

Just then Magog Rhys Petley got a call on his iPhone.

It was from his parliamentary Executive Assistant Gareth Jones (no relation to Alex).

"What's up, Gareth?" Rhys Petley inquired.

"Just want you to know that the Cameron government is involved in a cover-up," was Gareth Jones' answer.

"So what else is new?" Magog Rhys Petley shook his head, "what's it over this time?".

"Those leopard attacks at the London Zoo this past Thursday," Gareth replied, "remember the young zoo employee whose first day it was on the job got fired for leaving the leopard cage door open?  Well, it turns out that the leopard that was in that cage never ever left its cage. It was too old and feeble to do so. It was another leopard that was responsible for those attacks and the government has absolutely no idea where that leopard came from."

"That is strange," Magog Rhys Petley reflected, "Let me get back to you on that."

He walked over to Lepardia at the cocktail bar.

He happened to notice she had half a dozen glasses of buttermilk on her tray which she was drinking frantically.

Rhys Petley suddenly recalled that he had seen her drinking loads of buttermilk at The Phantom of the Opera performance as well.

What ailment did she have that she drank so much buttermilk like he did?

Lepardia smiled at him.

And as Lepardia smiled in her lavender evening dress in Washington DC, the British government continued its Zoo cover-up in London.

To be continued.

Werewolf On White House Lawn During Inauguration Ceremony?

CNN's Anderson Cooper looked at the camera, "Despite the quiet low key private inauguration ceremony that happened in the Blue Room of the White House today to fulfill the constitutional requirements of the President being sworn in on January 20th with a public ceremony being held tomorrow, all sorts of crazy rumours are flying around. One such rumour was that a werewolf was spotted on the White House lawn while the President was being sworn in. After the incident of the werewolf on the White House lawn was reported, the Head of the U.S. Secret Service issued an Official Statement that quote "agents should refrain from drinking on the job..."

Jay-Z remarked to Beyonce in the hotel room of Washington D.C.'s prestigious Hamilton Hotel as they watched the television screen, "Wow. That's really crazy, man."

Beyonce adjusted her skirt and crossed her legs and said, "Hm. Maybe I should put a werewolf in my next music video."

"And speaking of drinking," Anderson Cooper continued, "the White House kitchen is said to be reporting that massive quantities of buttermilk are apparently missing from the White House refrigerator..."

To be continued.

Of Roswell, Aliens and DNA

"A couriered package from Nevada for you, sir," Athelstan the valet, butler and proper English gentleman's gentleman handed it to his boss the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set.

"From Renfield no doubt," Set seethed, "he's really been ripping up the household expense account on the bets he's been placing in Las Vegas casinos."

"He does seem to be crapping out at the crap tables, sir,"  was Athelstan's reply.

"I'm thinking of sending an email to Amadeus to lace Renfield's chocolate milk with laxatives so he'll spend his time crapping out in the bathroom instead of crapping out at the crap tables,"  Set foamed through his large vampiric fangs.

"An excellent idea, sir," Athelstan nodded, "if I may ask sir, what are Renfield and Amadeus doing in Nevada?".

"Well, I sent Renfield on a mission there," Set opened the package, "which hopefully he's completed by sending me this package."

Set brought out of the package a sealed test tube.

"Pray tell, what is that, sir?" Athelstan inquired.

"It's a test tube I ordered Renfield to steal from a secret lab at Area 51 in Nevada," Set smiled, "a test tube containing the DNA from one of the dead aliens at the UFO crash in Roswell, New Mexico in 1947."

"The crash that the U.S. government said never happened, sir?" Athelstan dusted the Warren Commission Report on the Kennedy Assassination that sat on Set's bookshelf in the library.

"That's the one," Set nodded, "if there were no crashed extraterrestrial spacecraft over the years , all I can say is that there are a lot of incompetent makers of weather balloons out there."

To be continued.

Like Unto A Leopard

The elderly woman with the walker wondered where her grandchild had got to.

The London Zoo was no place for a lost child.

She looked around desperately.

Suddenly she came face to face with a leopard.

And the leopard was not in a cage.

What the...?

The leopard attacked the elderly woman and using its claws and sharp teeth ripped the arm out of her sockets.

Needless to say, the elderly woman let go of her walker.

The leopard set upon the woman and tore her to pieces.

Then the leopard went after other people.

Screams and sounds of tearing and ripped limbs could be heard all across the zoo.

Blood and flesh were everywhere.

The zoo's maintenance crew would be facing a major clean-up duty.

                                          *        *        *

The young man with the keys to the cages had heard the screaming and dashed into the handicapped washroom and locked the door.

He could hear the screams of people being eaten outside the door.

He almost shit his pants.

But since there was a toilet close by, he didn't.

When the screaming and roaring seemed to be over, he waited an hour.

Then exited the washroom.

He suddenly looked at the leopard cage where he had put water through the door a couple of hours earlier.

Oh my God, he thought, he must have absentmindedly opened the cage and left the door open.

The young man sighed.

It looked like his first day on the job would also be his last.

                                                *       *      *

"18 people were mauled and killed as a result of today's escaped leopard attacks at the London Zoo," the BBC's Naga Munchetty intoned, "Coming up on BBC News... the BBC World Business Report with the lead story being, will Apple re-name its OS X Leopard operating system desktops in the wake of today's attacks?  Sally will have the answer for you..."

"Oh my God," was atheistic Marxist Labour MP Magog Rhys Petley's only comment as he watched the BBC World News on the TV aboard the Boeing 787 (which would be recalled upon landing) as he flew across the Atlantic from Britain to America.

"I imagine there will now be calls for stricter leopard control in Britain," piped up the member of the U.S. National Rifle Association who was sitting next to Magog Rhys Petley aboard the plane, "which in my opinion is silly. After all, leopards don't kill people. People kill people."

To be continued.

Wesla Wong And The Welsh Werewolf

Welsh werewolf British Labour MP Magog Rhys Petley was doing some last minute work on behalf of his constituents before flying to Washington D.C.

An elderly couple who were not computer or internet savvy or really technologically inclined at all would be flying to Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada next week and wanted to know what the weather would be like.

Magog usually went beyond the call of duty when helping out his constituents which explained why he kept getting re-elected all the time despite his radical Marxist-Leninist views which were out of step with the thinking of most of the population of 21st Century Britain.

Magog Rhys Petley decided to phone the noted Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing about the matter as the famous world class vampire hunter now lived in Vancouver, British Columbia.

Magog asked Van Helsing which Vancouver-based meteorologist he'd recommend for a forecast.

Dracul Van Helsing replied, "BC Global TV meteorologist Wesla Wong."

So Magog then phoned Wesla Wong and got next week's Vancouver forecast for his elderly constituents.

He then phoned the couple with the information.

They were delighted.

After putting the phone down, Magog felt he might be turning into a werewolf again so he quickly drank some buttermilk which served as an antidote to the lycanthropy gene taking over his system.

To be continued.