James Cameron the director of Titanic and Avatar was sitting in his office reading a magazine.
"I can't believe it," Cameron threw down the magazine, "some people are claiming I got the plot for Avatar from the Disney cartoon Pocahontas. Where did they ever get that idea?."
Cameron's secretary approaches him, "Mr. Cameron, Dracul Van Helsing wants you to direct a TV commercial he's writing."
"A fellow Canadian and the noted vampire hunter," Cameron blinked, "where he would he get the money to afford me?".
"From the Aztec vampire princess Qonqilqointec," his secretary answered, "she'll pay you $500 million."
"All right," Cameron agreed.
"You're going to have a co-director for the commercial," his secretary said.
"Really?" Cameron blinked again, "who will that be?".
* * *
Quentin Tarantino the director of Pulp Fiction and Kill Bill was sitting in his office reading a magazine.
"I can't believe it," Tarantino threw down the magazine, "some people are claiming there's too much violence in my movies. Where did they ever get that idea?".
Tarantino's secretary approaches him, "Mr. Tarantino, Dracul Van Helsing wants you to direct a TV commercial he's writing."
"Dracul Van Helsing the noted Canadian vampire hunter," Tarantino blinked, "where would he get the money to afford me?".
"From the Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec," his secretary answered, "she'll pay you $500 million."
"All right," Tarantino agreed.
"You're going to have a co-director for the commercial," his secretary said, "James Cameron."
* * *
"I just hope that too many chefs don't spoil the soup," Amadeus Emanon said as he threw the lobster into the pot.
"You just threw the psychic lobster Michelangelo into the pot," Renfield shouted, "get it out. Set Laboratories spent a fortune developing his psychic abilities."
Amadeus grabbed some prongs and removed the lobster and put him under cold water.
* * *
Examining the computer attuned to Michelangelo's thoughts, Dr. Cadbury Rocher looked in shock at the screen, "What an outburst of profanity from Michelangelo."
* * *
In the exclusive hotel room penthouse suite in New York City, the bell boy opened the door of the room.
And there seated on the sofa was the Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec dressed in an exquisite black evening dress, black silk nylons and black spiked stiletto high-heeled shoes.
Across her lap was the Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing who was being spanked on the bare bottom by the Aztec vampiress Qonzilqointec wielding a sturdy leather paddle.
On the radio, the voice of Larry King could be heard, "Our guest tonight is Anne Rice who will be discussing the unusual ways in which vampire novelists and writers in general are inspired to write their works."
To be continued.
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Friday, September 3, 2010
Werewolf TV Commercial
"So, Boss," Renfield smiled, "you'll be doing a commercial for the new Qonzilqointec Electric Car."
"This is wonderful news," Set answered as he fed on a crocodile.
"Is that still alive?" Amadeus asked when he noticed the crocodile seemed to be snapping before going down the throat of the multi-billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire.
"The master likes his crocodiles very very rare," Athelstan the valet and gentleman's gentleman to Set answered.
* * *
The Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec and Dracul Van Helsing were in a hot tub together.
"So, any ideas for a commercial?" Qonzilqointec asked with her incisors sparkling as her head rose up out of the water.
"My, what sharp teeth you have," Dracul answered, "and yes, an idea for a commercial has come to me."
On the radio, Josh Groban could be heard singing the Don McLean lyrics, "Starry, starry night..."
* * *
With the full moon rising in the background, the werewolf looked at the camera and said, "So you're out on a hot date, you're about to get lucky with the girl of your dreams and she says..."
Girl In Red Dress: Darling isn't it a lovely full moon tonight?
Werewolf: And you say...
Boy (rising quickly out of the front seat of the convertible overlooking Lover's Lane): Oh, Jesus, a full moon...
(Girl in red dress screams as the boy turns into a werewolf)
Werewolf: Now you may have difficulty explaining to your loved one the sudden appearance of a full 5 o' clock shadow at midnight on a moonlit night so don't even try... Instead reach for your Gillette shaving cream and Gillette razor and start shaving away...
Boy (after shaving): See darling, your big bad wolf is just a college boy in sheep's clothing (for I'm wearing a wool sweater) after all...
Girl in Red Dress: Oh, Henry... (she throws him to the seat and mounts him)...
Announcer: Gillette, the best a man (or a werewolf) can get...
* * *
Qonzilqointec: I can't believe Gillette turned down your idea for a commercial...
Dracul Van Helsing: Neither can I....
To be continued.
"This is wonderful news," Set answered as he fed on a crocodile.
"Is that still alive?" Amadeus asked when he noticed the crocodile seemed to be snapping before going down the throat of the multi-billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire.
"The master likes his crocodiles very very rare," Athelstan the valet and gentleman's gentleman to Set answered.
* * *
The Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec and Dracul Van Helsing were in a hot tub together.
"So, any ideas for a commercial?" Qonzilqointec asked with her incisors sparkling as her head rose up out of the water.
"My, what sharp teeth you have," Dracul answered, "and yes, an idea for a commercial has come to me."
On the radio, Josh Groban could be heard singing the Don McLean lyrics, "Starry, starry night..."
* * *
With the full moon rising in the background, the werewolf looked at the camera and said, "So you're out on a hot date, you're about to get lucky with the girl of your dreams and she says..."
Girl In Red Dress: Darling isn't it a lovely full moon tonight?
Werewolf: And you say...
Boy (rising quickly out of the front seat of the convertible overlooking Lover's Lane): Oh, Jesus, a full moon...
(Girl in red dress screams as the boy turns into a werewolf)
Werewolf: Now you may have difficulty explaining to your loved one the sudden appearance of a full 5 o' clock shadow at midnight on a moonlit night so don't even try... Instead reach for your Gillette shaving cream and Gillette razor and start shaving away...
Boy (after shaving): See darling, your big bad wolf is just a college boy in sheep's clothing (for I'm wearing a wool sweater) after all...
Girl in Red Dress: Oh, Henry... (she throws him to the seat and mounts him)...
Announcer: Gillette, the best a man (or a werewolf) can get...
* * *
Qonzilqointec: I can't believe Gillette turned down your idea for a commercial...
Dracul Van Helsing: Neither can I....
To be continued.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Princess Qonzilqointec In New York City
Midnight. New York City. Down by the waterfront.
The Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec seems out of place in her pale green evening dress, jade necklace and cobalt blue spiked stiletto high-heeled shoes.
A drunken sailor approaches her, "Excuse me but aren't you Salma Hayek?".
The royal personage Aztec vampiress bit the sailor on the jugular vein of his neck and drank all his blood and then threw his lifeless body to the ground, "No, I've just been told that I look like her."
As she looked down at the blood drained dead drunken sailor, she felt a queaziness in her stomach and said aloud to herself, "I should really stop eating junk food."
A policeman approached her, "Excuse me but I'm an Arizona state trooper on an exchange program with the NYPD and I demand to see some ID to prove to me you're not an illegal immigrant."
The Aztec vampire princess grabbed the policeman with her powerful arms and literally broke his neck.
"I'd love to see what you'd do to Glenn Beck if he was in the vicinity," a voice spoke to her out of the darkness.
"Christopher Dracul Van Helsing," Princess Qonzilqointec smiled a warm vampiric smile with her teeth and her incisors as she recognized the voice.
"Your Highness," the vampire hunter kissed her pale green gloved hand.
"I'm sorry about the death of your father," she hugged him.
"Thanks," Dracul hugged her back, "it's been hard."
"Being a vampiress, I don't think about such things," she looked into his eyes, "but there's always the possibility that a well-done stake could do me in."
"Or even a medium rare stake," Dracul answered.
"Indeed," the vampire princess laughed.
"So why have you asked to see me?" Dracul inquired.
"Well when I'm not busy planning a Marxist revolution with the likes of Venezuela's Hugo Chavez, the President of Ecuador, the President of Peru and the most likely future President of Brazil, the capitalist side of me likes to engage in investments," Qonzilqointec's red painted fingernails touched her jade necklace.
"Investments were never my field," Dracul answered, "I was a Philosophy major in my Undergrad years."
"But I seek advice about vampires," she said.
"A vampiress is asking me for advice about vampires," Dracul smiled.
"The thing is I've invested in a company that will make electric cars using a new long-lasting lithium battery," Qonzilqointec answered, "and I'm looking for a spokesman to do commercials for them. And I see in various tabloid newspapers throughout the world the vampire Set's chief of security Renfield R. Renfield is advertising that his boss would like to do TV commercials. I was wondering if you'd think Set would make a good spokesman for my product."
"Well I've never actually met the Vampire Set," Dracul confessed, "I've only run into a couple of his employees Renfield and also Amadeus Emanon. I believe you've met Set. What are your impressions?".
"He's one nasty individual," Qonzilqointec answered, "but I don't know if he could sell a car."
"Often it's nasty individuals who do sell cars," Dracul said, "along with mythical little old ladies from Pasadena who only drove the car once a week to church on Sundays."
Qonzilqointec smiled, "You're right, Dracul. And I understand you spent a year as an ad writer for an advertising agency. I want you to write the commercial."
To be continued.
The Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec seems out of place in her pale green evening dress, jade necklace and cobalt blue spiked stiletto high-heeled shoes.
A drunken sailor approaches her, "Excuse me but aren't you Salma Hayek?".
The royal personage Aztec vampiress bit the sailor on the jugular vein of his neck and drank all his blood and then threw his lifeless body to the ground, "No, I've just been told that I look like her."
As she looked down at the blood drained dead drunken sailor, she felt a queaziness in her stomach and said aloud to herself, "I should really stop eating junk food."
A policeman approached her, "Excuse me but I'm an Arizona state trooper on an exchange program with the NYPD and I demand to see some ID to prove to me you're not an illegal immigrant."
The Aztec vampire princess grabbed the policeman with her powerful arms and literally broke his neck.
"I'd love to see what you'd do to Glenn Beck if he was in the vicinity," a voice spoke to her out of the darkness.
"Christopher Dracul Van Helsing," Princess Qonzilqointec smiled a warm vampiric smile with her teeth and her incisors as she recognized the voice.
"Your Highness," the vampire hunter kissed her pale green gloved hand.
"I'm sorry about the death of your father," she hugged him.
"Thanks," Dracul hugged her back, "it's been hard."
"Being a vampiress, I don't think about such things," she looked into his eyes, "but there's always the possibility that a well-done stake could do me in."
"Or even a medium rare stake," Dracul answered.
"Indeed," the vampire princess laughed.
"So why have you asked to see me?" Dracul inquired.
"Well when I'm not busy planning a Marxist revolution with the likes of Venezuela's Hugo Chavez, the President of Ecuador, the President of Peru and the most likely future President of Brazil, the capitalist side of me likes to engage in investments," Qonzilqointec's red painted fingernails touched her jade necklace.
"Investments were never my field," Dracul answered, "I was a Philosophy major in my Undergrad years."
"But I seek advice about vampires," she said.
"A vampiress is asking me for advice about vampires," Dracul smiled.
"The thing is I've invested in a company that will make electric cars using a new long-lasting lithium battery," Qonzilqointec answered, "and I'm looking for a spokesman to do commercials for them. And I see in various tabloid newspapers throughout the world the vampire Set's chief of security Renfield R. Renfield is advertising that his boss would like to do TV commercials. I was wondering if you'd think Set would make a good spokesman for my product."
"Well I've never actually met the Vampire Set," Dracul confessed, "I've only run into a couple of his employees Renfield and also Amadeus Emanon. I believe you've met Set. What are your impressions?".
"He's one nasty individual," Qonzilqointec answered, "but I don't know if he could sell a car."
"Often it's nasty individuals who do sell cars," Dracul said, "along with mythical little old ladies from Pasadena who only drove the car once a week to church on Sundays."
Qonzilqointec smiled, "You're right, Dracul. And I understand you spent a year as an ad writer for an advertising agency. I want you to write the commercial."
To be continued.
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Ancient Egyptian Vampire Set Wants To Do TV Commercial
The multi-billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set was looking unhappy.
"Depressed over not finding any female virgins in the modern world to sacrifice, boss?" Renfield asked.
"Well, " Set replied, "yes, and do you remember how you saw the faces of Zeus and Apollo blown out of that Icelandic volcano earlier this year?."
"I do," Renfield nodded, "I tried to locate them but didn't have any luck."
"Well it appears that Madison Avenue ad agencies had much better luck," Set sniffed, "Zeus is now doing commercials for the McDonald's Quarter Pounder Deluxe."
"I believe I've seen that commercial," Renfield said.
"I have too," Amadeus piped up from the next room, "and isn't it cool how Air Force jets pop up and fly behind his head as the commercial ends?".
"So Zeus is doing commercials," Set snivelled, "and even that priest-theologian Herr Hans who worships my brother Osiris and my sister Isis- even he is doing commercials."
"Yes, but for Equa Doze laxatives as The Most Un-Interesting Man in The World," Renfield replied, "Hardly something to write home about."
"Still I want to be able to do a fucking TV commercial," Set threw a temper tantrum.
"Did the boss say what I think he just said?" Amadeus called out from the other room.
"Yes, he wants to be able to do a fucking TV commercial," Renfield answered.
"He wants to be able to do a commercial for a porno movie?" Amadeus entered the room eating a McDonalds' Quarter Pounder Deluxe.
Renfield in his mind was imagining his favourite porn star Akira Lane kneeling down in front of a 6 foot tall Scottish highlander. She lifts the highlander's kilt, looks at the camera, winks and says, "I'm about to swallow a McDonald's Quarter Pounder Deluxe."
To be continued.
"Depressed over not finding any female virgins in the modern world to sacrifice, boss?" Renfield asked.
"Well, " Set replied, "yes, and do you remember how you saw the faces of Zeus and Apollo blown out of that Icelandic volcano earlier this year?."
"I do," Renfield nodded, "I tried to locate them but didn't have any luck."
"Well it appears that Madison Avenue ad agencies had much better luck," Set sniffed, "Zeus is now doing commercials for the McDonald's Quarter Pounder Deluxe."
"I believe I've seen that commercial," Renfield said.
"I have too," Amadeus piped up from the next room, "and isn't it cool how Air Force jets pop up and fly behind his head as the commercial ends?".
"So Zeus is doing commercials," Set snivelled, "and even that priest-theologian Herr Hans who worships my brother Osiris and my sister Isis- even he is doing commercials."
"Yes, but for Equa Doze laxatives as The Most Un-Interesting Man in The World," Renfield replied, "Hardly something to write home about."
"Still I want to be able to do a fucking TV commercial," Set threw a temper tantrum.
"Did the boss say what I think he just said?" Amadeus called out from the other room.
"Yes, he wants to be able to do a fucking TV commercial," Renfield answered.
"He wants to be able to do a commercial for a porno movie?" Amadeus entered the room eating a McDonalds' Quarter Pounder Deluxe.
Renfield in his mind was imagining his favourite porn star Akira Lane kneeling down in front of a 6 foot tall Scottish highlander. She lifts the highlander's kilt, looks at the camera, winks and says, "I'm about to swallow a McDonald's Quarter Pounder Deluxe."
To be continued.
Saturday, August 28, 2010
The Snuff Film
Renfield R. Renfield had raised a couple of zombies from a cemetery using an old voodoo manuscript he had found.
When he had done that, he walked to the rectory of Saint John the Baptist Catholic Church in London.
He knocked on the door.
An elderly priest answered.
"Father Sinclair?" Renfield inquired.
"Yes," the elderly priest nodded.
"You're the Father Sinclair who got into a heated argument with the theologian Herr Hans recently?" Renfield queried.
"That's right," Father Sinclair answered, "are you a reporter?".
"No, I'm not," Renfield shook his head, "now I'm not a big fan of Herr Hans either but I can't kill him just yet. So I decided to settle on you instead. I'm making a snuff film because I always wanted to make one of those."
"What?..." before the elderly priest could finish his sentence, one of the two zombies brought out a machete and cut off the priest's head while Renfield filmed it with his video camera.
"Now, gonna rush home and post this on YouTube," Renfield grinned, "and the hits and views will be coming in."
When Renfield got home, Amadeus was reading from an Encyclopedia in the library belonging to the multi-billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set, "Do you know that tomorrow August 29th is the day marking the commemoration of the Beheading of Saint John the Baptist in the Catholic Church?".
"Really?" Renfield looked at his watch which said 11 PM August 28th 2010, "tomorrow is? Shoot. Missed it by one day. Should have done it tomorrow."
"Done what tomorrow?" Amadeus asked.
"Never mind," Renfield smiled.
To be continued.
When he had done that, he walked to the rectory of Saint John the Baptist Catholic Church in London.
He knocked on the door.
An elderly priest answered.
"Father Sinclair?" Renfield inquired.
"Yes," the elderly priest nodded.
"You're the Father Sinclair who got into a heated argument with the theologian Herr Hans recently?" Renfield queried.
"That's right," Father Sinclair answered, "are you a reporter?".
"No, I'm not," Renfield shook his head, "now I'm not a big fan of Herr Hans either but I can't kill him just yet. So I decided to settle on you instead. I'm making a snuff film because I always wanted to make one of those."
"What?..." before the elderly priest could finish his sentence, one of the two zombies brought out a machete and cut off the priest's head while Renfield filmed it with his video camera.
"Now, gonna rush home and post this on YouTube," Renfield grinned, "and the hits and views will be coming in."
When Renfield got home, Amadeus was reading from an Encyclopedia in the library belonging to the multi-billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set, "Do you know that tomorrow August 29th is the day marking the commemoration of the Beheading of Saint John the Baptist in the Catholic Church?".
"Really?" Renfield looked at his watch which said 11 PM August 28th 2010, "tomorrow is? Shoot. Missed it by one day. Should have done it tomorrow."
"Done what tomorrow?" Amadeus asked.
"Never mind," Renfield smiled.
To be continued.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
The Game's Afoot In London
Renfield R. Renfield and Amadeus Emanon were in a red Ferrari parked outside the grounds of Lambeth Palace in London.
Renfield was holding up a pair of binoculars.
"Whose car is this?" asked Amadeus as he spilled some of the sushi he was eating on to the seat.
"Herr Hans' car," Renfield replied.
"Isn't that the Catholic priest and theologian we're supposed to be watching?" Amadeus queried as he accidently spilled some soya sauce to add to the sushi on the seat.
"That's right," Renfield nodded, "I thought while we observe his conversations with the ArchDruid of Canterbury, we might as well sit here in comfort I figure."
"You know," Amadeus stated as some of his Thai chili chicken fell on to the seat, "if I had had a real mother instead of being genetically cloned and created in a laboratory, my mother would probably be telling me to wear a bib while I'm eating."
"Oh, probably," Renfield opened up a can of beer of which half sprayed all over the seat.
"So why have we been following Herr Hans around London the past few days?" Amadeus removed a fudgesicle from a wrapper which proceeded to fall on to the seat, "oh shoot."
"Because Herr Hans is a follower of Osiris and Isis," Renfield replied.
"Oh... the mortal... I mean... immortal enemies of our boss," Amadeus reached for a chocolate eclair from the box of chocolate eclairs in the middle of the seat.
Their boss was of course the London based multi-billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set.
"That's right," Renfield started licking the spilled beer off the car upholstery.
"But why is Herr Hans been so busy talking to the ArchDruid of Canterbury the past few days?" Amadeus bit into the chocolate eclair, "I thought the ArchDruid was supposed to be a friend of our boss."
"The ArchDruid is all things to all men," Renfield belched and broke wind at the same time, "when he addresses the Anglican bishops of Africa, he says he sides with them on doctrinal issues against the U.S. Episcopalian bishops. When he addresses the U.S. Episcopalian bishops, he says he sides with them against the Anglican bishops of Africa on doctrinal issues. The ArchDruid has 10 wet fingers and 10 wet toes blowing in the wind."
Amadeus dropped the last half of the chocolate eclair on the seat and then crushed it with his knee as he attempted to pick it up, "Oh gosh! I can't believe the day I'm having!".
"Hey! That's my car!" Herr Hans pointed and shouted angrily as the ArchDruid of Canterbury stared blissfully in the distance at where Herr Hans was pointing.
"I think we better get the Hell out of here," Renfield started the car and drove off.
"Do you suppose we can pick up some spaghetti and meat balls somewhere to eat on the way home?" Amadeus asked as Herr Hans chased after them on foot.
To be continued.
Renfield was holding up a pair of binoculars.
"Whose car is this?" asked Amadeus as he spilled some of the sushi he was eating on to the seat.
"Herr Hans' car," Renfield replied.
"Isn't that the Catholic priest and theologian we're supposed to be watching?" Amadeus queried as he accidently spilled some soya sauce to add to the sushi on the seat.
"That's right," Renfield nodded, "I thought while we observe his conversations with the ArchDruid of Canterbury, we might as well sit here in comfort I figure."
"You know," Amadeus stated as some of his Thai chili chicken fell on to the seat, "if I had had a real mother instead of being genetically cloned and created in a laboratory, my mother would probably be telling me to wear a bib while I'm eating."
"Oh, probably," Renfield opened up a can of beer of which half sprayed all over the seat.
"So why have we been following Herr Hans around London the past few days?" Amadeus removed a fudgesicle from a wrapper which proceeded to fall on to the seat, "oh shoot."
"Because Herr Hans is a follower of Osiris and Isis," Renfield replied.
"Oh... the mortal... I mean... immortal enemies of our boss," Amadeus reached for a chocolate eclair from the box of chocolate eclairs in the middle of the seat.
Their boss was of course the London based multi-billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set.
"That's right," Renfield started licking the spilled beer off the car upholstery.
"But why is Herr Hans been so busy talking to the ArchDruid of Canterbury the past few days?" Amadeus bit into the chocolate eclair, "I thought the ArchDruid was supposed to be a friend of our boss."
"The ArchDruid is all things to all men," Renfield belched and broke wind at the same time, "when he addresses the Anglican bishops of Africa, he says he sides with them on doctrinal issues against the U.S. Episcopalian bishops. When he addresses the U.S. Episcopalian bishops, he says he sides with them against the Anglican bishops of Africa on doctrinal issues. The ArchDruid has 10 wet fingers and 10 wet toes blowing in the wind."
Amadeus dropped the last half of the chocolate eclair on the seat and then crushed it with his knee as he attempted to pick it up, "Oh gosh! I can't believe the day I'm having!".
"Hey! That's my car!" Herr Hans pointed and shouted angrily as the ArchDruid of Canterbury stared blissfully in the distance at where Herr Hans was pointing.
"I think we better get the Hell out of here," Renfield started the car and drove off.
"Do you suppose we can pick up some spaghetti and meat balls somewhere to eat on the way home?" Amadeus asked as Herr Hans chased after them on foot.
To be continued.
Friday, August 20, 2010
Paris Morning
The Trappist monk Brother Jim Gallant and the Saint Bernard dog Samson stood in the Paris street outside the Vampiress Isis' apartment.
Come dawn they saw the vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing leaving.
"Well, Samson," Brother Jim looked down at the Saint Bernard, "it looks like Dracul managed to leave Isis' apartment without being turned into a vampire himself."
The Saint Bernard wagged his tail.
"Still I think Dracul takes a lot of chances with vampiresses," Brother Jim scratched his chin thoughtfully, "I think I should put in a call to Hyung Grace Kwan and tell her to beat Dracul up again so he doesn't take so many chances with vampiresses."
The Saint Bernard nodded and seemed to smile.
"I wonder what the theologian Herr Hans was doing in the Vampiress Isis' apartment?" Brother Jim asked.
The Saint Bernard yawned.
"No, I don't imagine he was doing what Dracul was probably doing," Brother Jim said.
The door opened and out stepped Herr Hans.
Herr Hans got on his cell phone and confirmed his flight reservation to London.
As he put his phone back in his pocket, he thought, where had Isis been most of the night?
He did not see the Trappist monk and the Saint Bernard standing there looking at him as he got into the taxi.
To be continued.
Come dawn they saw the vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing leaving.
"Well, Samson," Brother Jim looked down at the Saint Bernard, "it looks like Dracul managed to leave Isis' apartment without being turned into a vampire himself."
The Saint Bernard wagged his tail.
"Still I think Dracul takes a lot of chances with vampiresses," Brother Jim scratched his chin thoughtfully, "I think I should put in a call to Hyung Grace Kwan and tell her to beat Dracul up again so he doesn't take so many chances with vampiresses."
The Saint Bernard nodded and seemed to smile.
"I wonder what the theologian Herr Hans was doing in the Vampiress Isis' apartment?" Brother Jim asked.
The Saint Bernard yawned.
"No, I don't imagine he was doing what Dracul was probably doing," Brother Jim said.
The door opened and out stepped Herr Hans.
Herr Hans got on his cell phone and confirmed his flight reservation to London.
As he put his phone back in his pocket, he thought, where had Isis been most of the night?
He did not see the Trappist monk and the Saint Bernard standing there looking at him as he got into the taxi.
To be continued.
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