Fictional News Report About Dr. Hannibal Lector
This just in! Well known cannibalistic psychiatrist Dr. Hannibal Lector wasn’t hungry enough for a full meal but he did feel like having some fingers as an appetizer. It has been reported that singer M.I.A.’s middle finger is M.I.A.
The Room: Hotel California
He was a part of the criminal underworld- its darkest darkest part.
The Raven was the name he went by.
Only a few close friends knew his real name.
And he had so few close friends.
By far his most devilish work was done in cyberspace- on social networking sites.
The Raven did not make money at this.
Not like the drugs he sold.
But it’s what gave him the most joy.
The most delight.
Evil for the pure simple joy of evil.
It was not often that the Raven’s curiosity was aroused.
But it was aroused this time.
When he received a key to Room 722 of the Hotel California in Palm Springs, California.
In an envelope.
In the mail.
An envelope addressed to him at his most secret location.
With no return address on it.
The key was an old fashioned metal hotel key.
Not like the computerized key cards that most hotels gave out these days.
So the Raven drove down to Palm Springs.
To the Hotel California.
He discovered in the lobby that the elevator wasn’t working.
So the Raven walked up 7 flights of stairs to the 7th floor- the floor on which was room 722.
He stood outside Room 722 and was a little hesitant to open the door.
“What’s stopping you, Raven?” a tall blonde man outside Room 721 asked.
The Raven looked at the questioner.
“Aren’t you Dracul Van Helsing the famous Canadian vampire hunter?” the Raven asked.
“I am,” the man replied.
“What are you doing here? How do you know my name?” the Raven wanted to know.
“I track vampires,” Van Helsing answered.
“Well,” the Raven laughed, “I’m no vampire.”
“There’s more than one kind of vampire,” Dracul Van Helsing lit a cigarette despite the California state’s strict no smoking laws and blew smoke in the Raven’s direction.
“I don’t know what you mean,” the Raven smirked.
“I’m talking about people who pose under different aliases and different personas at various blogging and social networking sites,” Van Helsing approached the Raven, “people who befriend lonely, sad and depressed people- people who are suicidally inclined and then by befriending such people try to encourage those people to commit suicide. And in many cases, some do. Those people who pose as friends and then try to push others into suicide are a modern 21st Century cyberspace form of vampires.”
“Well,” the Raven laughed, “you can’t prove any of that.”
“But I know you did it,” Van Helsing approached.
“What are you going to do? Kill me? I’m not a vampire of the Dracula kind,” the Raven continued to smirk, “I’m a mortal flesh and blood human.”
“No, I’m not going to kill you,” Van Helsing replied, “you’re going to kill yourself. You may have noticed the elevator door is open on this floor and yet the elevator is trapped on the 8th floor above. You’re going to jump down the elevator shaft and kill yourself. That way you will no longer be able to go after lost lonely souls and get them to end their lives.”
“And how are you going to get me to kill myself?” the Raven laughed.
“Why don’t you take that key and open the door to Room 722?” Dracul instructed.
The Raven did so.
What he saw in the room literally turned his hair white.
The Raven turned around and faced Van Helsing.
He seemed to choke on his own words, “You… you… you… you’re more than just a vampire hunter aren’t you?”.
“Yes,” Van Helsing calmly lit another cigarette and again blew smoke in the Raven’s direction, “I am.”
The Raven dropped the key to Room 722 on the floor, ran down the hall and jumped down the elevator shaft.
His shrill penetrating scream as he fell downwards was the last sound he ever made on this Earth.
Van Helsing calmly opened the door to the stairwell and walked down the stairs.
To be continued.
Moloch and Mammon
The Were-zomb-ire’s teeth were chattering after having spent a night in the Vatican garden on a rather chilly Rome evening.
The demon Moloch who was using the Were-Zomb-ire’s body as his host was starting to feel cold.
He was used to intense heat.
“Good morning,” said the demon Mammon who happened to be in the neighbourhood.
“Mammon, what are you doing here?” Moloch through the Were-Zomb-ire’s mouth asked the ancient Babylonian god of banking and commerce.
“Some of the Vatican bureaucrats who are under my control have just issued a statement through the Pontifical Council for Justice and Peace calling for the creation of a World Financial Authority,” Mammon smiled, “and I of course am going to be the one running that World Financial Authority when it’s finally created.”
“You haven’t formed an alliance with the Aztec feathered serpent god Quetzalcoatl by any chance have you?” Moloch asked through chattering teeth.
“So what if I have?” Mammon shrugged, “by the way what you were doing spending all night in the Vatican garden?”.
“I was trying to locate Pope Benedict XVI,” Moloch growled through the Were-Zomb-ire.
“Have you ever heard those stories about that mysterious priest who goes down into the catacombs and takes saucers of milk and bread to feed all the hungry stray cats who live down there in the catacombs?” Mammon asked.
“Yes, I have heard those stories,” Moloch nodded.
“Well that mysterious priest since 1981 has been Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger now Pope Benedict XVI,” replied Mammon, “he was down in the catacombs last night doing it.”
Mammon walked away whistling.
Moloch took a step and tripped over a black cat which caused him to fall into a fount of Holy Water.
“Hell, no,” Moloch’s Were-Zomb-ire body started to smulder.
To be continued.
Where Will They Bury Gaddafi?
“So I hear Libyan leader Col. Muammar Gaddafi was killed today in his birthplace of Sirte,” Amadeus Emanon remarked as he bit into his camel burger- a dish he was trying for the very first time.
“That’s right,” Renfield yawned as he looked at the video of Gaddafi’s dead body at the BBC News website on his computer.
“Wasn’t he one of the Boss’ allies at one time?” Amadeus reached into a jar of pickles and added a pickle to his camel burger.
“That’s right he was,” Renfield nodded, “right up until the moment he started to lose the Libyan civil war- then the Boss quickly dropped him as an ally.”
As the group The Black Eyed Peas started to sing the song My Humps on the radio, Amadeus bit into the most difficult portion of his camel burger and asked Renfield, “So what are you currently doing?”.
“I’m trying to hack into the computers of the Libyan Transitional Council to see if I can discover the secret location where they plan to bury Col. Gaddafi’s body,” Renfield grinned.
“Do you suppose they’ll bury him face downwards so he can see where he’s going?” Amadeus felt musically motivated to add some black-eyed peas to his camel burger.
“I don’t know,” Renfield shook his head, “I’m trying to determine the site of his burial because I think it would be kind of nifty to fly there and raise Col. Gaddafi from the dead as a zombie.”
“Have you ever wondered what they do with dying grapes?” Amadeus changed the topic as he reached into a box of raisins.
To be continued.
The Scientist and Jack O’ Hare
“Why shouldn’t pigs have wings?” the man with glasses in the white lab coat asked Jack O’ Hare.
The wild hare bunny rabbit raised his big ears when he heard the question and calmly continued to eat his carrot.
“We can make the sea boiling hot with nuclear explosions,” the scientist rubbed his hands together enthusiastically, “so why not give pigs wings? My colleagues and I are working on such wonders with genetic engineering. Perhaps you’d like wings, my big earred furry friend.”
Jack looked up at the sky.
He saw a crow and a magpie fighting.
Not all was so friendly in the skies despite the vast beautiful blue and the luminescent fluffy white clouds.
No, he was quite content with who God had made him to be- a bunny rabbit.
When Jack finished his carrot, he turned his back on the scientist in the lab coat and hopped away.
“But I can make you a god if you’d just give me the chance,” the scientist shouted after Jack O’ Hare, “for that’s the next stage in the cosmic evolution of all us species.”
The scientist’s name wasn’t Frankenstein but it may just as well have been.
Prince William and Kate Middleton In Canada
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings- nor lose the common touch,
…. Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And—which is more— you’ll be a Man, my son.
-If a poem written in 1910 by Rudyard Kipling (1865-1936)
Watching Prince William and Kate Middleton’s visit to Canada these past few days reminds me of these lines from Rudyard Kipling’s poem If.
Frankly, Prince William and Kate Middleton are absolutely an amazing couple.
And that has certainly come across in the time they’ve spent in Canada.
They’ve thoroughly charmed Canadians- including French-Canadians in the province of Quebec who (according to the news media anyway) are supposed to be staunchly anti-royal and anti-monarchist.
There were a minority of Quebec separatists who booed the couple in both Montreal and Quebec City but they were drowned out by the cheers of the friendly crowds.
The reason for their affection with everyday Canadians?
They are indeed a regal couple but ones who keep the common touch.
There is nothing stiff or formal about them.
They are genuinely affectionate and actually spend time talking to people and even more importantly listening to people.
Watching the interviews of Canadians on TV who have just met the Royal couple, that is the same theme over and over again.
“Prince William actually genuinely laughed at the joke I told him…”
“Kate asked me where I got the flowers I gave her…”
And it is not just one or two… or even dozens… it’s hundreds of people who say this.
Trying to keep Will and Kate to a fixed schedule has become a nightmare for Canadian organizers.
As they spend time and more time talking and walking among the crowds trying to engage in interaction with as many people as they can.
Watching all these scenes on the Canadian news, I came to the conclusion that Prince William and Kate Middleton are indeed a special couple.
But what solidified it for me was the announcement on the news tonight that Prince William and Kate Middleton will be making an unscheduled stop tomorrow morning in the town of Slave Lake, Alberta which was destroyed by fire this past May 16th and has now been called the second most expensive natural disaster in Canadian history.
According to the officials, Prince William and Kate Middleton have been allotted a full hour to talk to town residents who will be bussed in for the event- most of whose homes were destroyed by fire.
I have the feeling that hour will stretch way way past 60 minutes when the meeting does take place.
Kate Middleton seems she was born for this role. She is truly a princess in the most special sense of that word.
Prince William of course was born to the role of being a prince.
But not all who are born princes rise to the challenge.
Of which the most pre-eminent example is William’s own father Charles, Prince of Wales who had an ongoing multi-year extra-marital affair with Camilla Parker-Bowles all the time he was supposed to be ostensibly married to William’s own mother Princess Diana.
Of course Princess Diana was a very people-oriented person and no doubt William has inherited that from his mother.
I remember a story told me by a woman who remembered seeing Prince Charles and Princess Diana when they visited Edmonton, Alberta, Canada back in the early 1980s.
I’d never heard this story anywhere else. The woman said it wasn’t mentioned in the media covering the event.
She said Princess Diana was walking the streets and she said quite naturally she was looking at Princess Diana’s outfit.
And she said Diana was wearing the most beautiful looking shoes.
They were a very expensive pair of shoes too she judged by looking at them.
Anyhow Diana was talking to members of the crowd and she (the woman telling me the story) noticed the handlers were awfully anxious for Diana to get back in the car.
Finally one of the handlers motioned for Diana to get back in the car.
It was at that moment the woman narrator of the story noticed a little girl in a wheelchair way on the other side of the street who was holding some roses and looking very disappointed that she wasn’t going to meet Diana.
The narrator also noticed that there was a huge puddle in front of the girl in the wheelchair and because of the huge crowds standing around the only way Diana would be able to get to the girl to take the flowers would be to walk straight through that puddle to get to her.
Straight through that puddle in those beautiful shoes.
Those exquisite shoes.
Those expensive shoes.
The handler was doing Diana a favour by motioning for her to get back in the car.
It would save her lovely shoes from getting wrecked.
But just as Diana was about to enter the car, she just happened to look in the direction of the girl in the wheelchair.
The woman narrator of the story said from her vantage point, she could see both Diana’s face and that of the little girl.
She could tell from the expression on Diana’s face that Diana had not only noticed the little girl in the wheelchair but had noticed the puddle directly in front of the little girl as well.
She noticed Diana looking down at her shoes and as a fellow woman she said to me, she knew exactly what thoughts must have been going through Diana’s mind at that moment.
But then she noticed a firm look of determination suddenly appear on Diana’s face.
She walked away from the car much to the discomfort of all the handlers present and motioned them aside.
With full determination, she walked straight to the little girl in the wheelchair.
She walked straight through that puddle the woman narrator told me without even batting an eyelash.
She graciously accepted the little girl’s flowers and even spent a number of minutes in conversation with her much to the thrill and joyful expression of the little girl in the wheelchair.
And then just as determinedly Diana walked back through the puddle in her beautiful exquisite and expensive shoes holding the little girl’s flowers and then giving one last wave to the crowd before entering the car.
“That one action,” the woman narrator told me, “spoke volumes about the kind of character that Princess Diana had. And hers was definitely a character worth having.”
Indeed.
And it appears that Diana’s own son Prince William has the exact same sort of character.
And so does Diana’s own daughter-in-law Kate Middleton- whom she never lived to meet.
Princess Diana would be so proud if she were alive today.
How World War III Will Begin
Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster was spending YET another boring Friday night hooked up to the computer in the Set Laboratories Lab.
Michelangelo decided yet again that he’d entertain himself by entering the dreams of the comatose Renfield R. Renfield who was laying in a hospital bed in King’s College Hospital, London.
Using current events from watching BBC World News, Michelangelo decided that he would project a documentary from the far future into Renfield R. Renfield’s dreaming mind.
The female BBC Documentary Announcer from the future intoned, “Coming up next on BBC Documentary Channel our award-winning documentary How World War III Began…”
The program starts.
The voice of the male narrator began the intro,
“World War III would start in the year 2100. It would begin when the City of Vancouver lost yet another game 7 of a Stanley Cup NHL Hockey Championship- the 21st time in history it had done so. This time however the rioters in the streets would have access to nuclear weapons which they would use and send the whole world into a nuclear conflagration of the worst magnitude that would take the Earth centuries to recover…”
Renfield R. Renfied being the deranged psychopathic shapeshifter hamster/human that he was could not help but grin in his sleep as he watched all the carnage and destruction being shown him in his dream.
To be continued.
The Boiling Frog Experiment
Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster was spending Wednesday evening cooped up in the Set Enterprises lab (as he spent every other evening of a 7-day week).
And of course Michelangelo had his antenna hooked up to a computer so it could read and penetrate the sleeping thoughts (i.e. dreams) of individuals all over the world and then pass the information to the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set’s computer data base.
Michelangelo had heard Wednesday called “hump day” by certain employees of Set Enterprises.
Which may explain why Set Enterprises’ chief mad scientist Dr. Cadbury Rocher had just spent “hump day” genetically engineering a camel who wouldn’t have a hump.
Michelangelo could not surmise the reason why Dr. Cadbury Rocher would do this.
After all he had heard it said by the great Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing that “A camel was God’s way of letting the world know what a horse would look like if it had been designed by a committee.”
So where would a camel be without his hump?
God only knew.
And Dr. Cadbury Rocher was obviously anxious to find out.
Totally oblivious to the fact that humpless camels had already been discovered in southern Tanzania.
But some poor snook Arabian camel was being made to suffer for Dr. Cadbury Rocher’s lack of knowledge.
Such was the calling of science these days.
As for Michelangelo, he himself was a lobster who had been genetically engineered by Dr. Cadbury Rocher to enter people’s dreams and their unconscious minds.
Michelangelo decided once again to enter the unconscious mind of the comatose Renfield R. Renfield who was still lying in a coma in the neurosciences unit of King’s College Hospital here in London.
This time he would not be sending his own visual images into Renfield’s dream like he had last Friday night when he had sent to Renfield’s brain his own version of the Lady Gaga video Judas.
Rather he would choose to see what sort of dreams Renfield dreamt about on his own.
Renfield was dreaming that he was in the kitchen of the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set’s colossal London mansion.
Amadeus Emanon was sitting at the kitchen table eating from a bag of potato chips.
Renfield had a pot on the stove and he had placed a frog in the pot and was slowly raising the temperature of the pot on the stove.
“What are you doing?” Amadeus asked as he munched on a potato chip.
“I’m trying to determine whether that theory which says if you place a frog in boiling water right away it will immediately jump out- which I tried on the previous frog and it died when I placed it in boiling water,” Renfield explained, “but now I’m empirically testing the second part of the theory which says if you slowly raise the temperature of the water up to boiling, the frog won’t jump out of the pot until it’s too late and the frog will boil to death.”
“That’s horrible,” Amadeus stopped eating his potato chip.
“I know,” Renfield cackled an evil laugh.
Amadeus was too paralyzed by the sound of Renfield’s evil laugh to get up and rescue the frog.
And with each passing moment, Renfield used the knobs on the stove to slowly raise the temperature of the water the frog was in.
Suddenly one could hear the water starting to boil and bubble portending trouble…
… particularly for the frog…
…. when suddenly…
… Miss Piggy walked into the kitchen and screamed, “KERMIT! What are you letting that evil man do to you?.”
To be continued.
U.S. Secret Service Motto In Wake of Colombian Escort Scandal
April 18, 2012 at 1:52 pm (Commentary, Humour, Satire) (Colombian escort scandal, President Barack Obama, prostitution, U.S. Secret Service, U.S. Secret Service motto)
U.S. Secret Service motto:
Putting our lives on the line for the President.
Putting our dicks on the line for sexual gratification.
Putting our credit rating at risk when the escorts complain.
Permalink Leave a Comment