Pan Goatee Euthanizes Suicidally Inclined Uglos
Pan Goatee Euthanizes Suicidally Inclined Uglos
Genetically created satyr serial killer Pan Goatee decided to head downtown.
He beheaded a stupid ugly looking woman walking up the stairs at the transit station where he was to catch the train downtown.
“If you had taken the escalator instead of the stairs, you wouldn’t have run into me, you pathetic loser,” Goatee commented to the aforesaid pathetic loser as her head went rolling down the stairs.
He lopped off a few more heads of uglos as he made his way to the platform to catch the downtown train.
When the train came up to the platform, he selected the car which had the greatest number of beautiful women on it in order to give his homicidal tendencies a rest.
Both his doctor and his psychiatrist had expressed concern about his over exerting himself.
When the train pulled up to the next station, he saw a really pathetically ugly looking woman running along the platform to catch the train.
“Good thing, I didn’t sit in the last car,” Goatee said, “that’s probably where that pathetically ugly thing will sit as that’s as far as she’ll probably be able to make it.”
However the pathetic ugly looking creature decided to run as far as the train car in which Pan Goatee was sitting and board it.
Goatee took up the seat next to him as well as his own so the ugly looking creature wouldn’t sit there.
But the ugly looking creature came and stood directly in front of him for a few seconds and then sat down 2 seats to the left of him.
“You must really be fucking suicidal today, bitch,” Goatee got up and removed his astral laser machete from his holster, “well guess what? It’s your fucking lucky day. You finally found somebody to euthanize you and put you out of your and everybody else’s misery.”
Goatee then beheaded the pathetically ugly woman and kicked her head down the aisle of the train where it struck and knocked unconscious someone with 72 marijuana cigarettes in his mouth.
The heavy marijuana smoker was a Federal Liberal Party candidate in one of the city’s federal constituencies for the upcoming Canadian national election.
When Goatee went downtown, he went about his business and then caught the train to head back to his neighbourhood.
Some ugly looking woman decided to stand next to him on the platform.
Soon her head was rolling on to the train tracks.
“What is up with all the suicidally inclined uglos today?” Goatee wondered, “Or have these airheads never watched any of the documentary specials that the National Geographic Channel have done about me?”.
Six train stations up the track and a hideously fat ugly blimp boarded the train car that Pan Goatee was in.
Not only that but the fat ugly blimp of an airhead sat right across from Pan Goatee.
Goatee figured that some sort of suicide pact among uglos must be be the particular social networking trend that was all the rage on this day.
“You’re such a heavy consumer of eating cows that you neglected to notice the fact that you turned into one yourself,” Goatee remarked as he beheaded the blimp.
After kicking the head down the aisle, Goatee noted, “I, for one, am proud to do my part in putting an end to bovine flatulence and its detrimental effects on climate change and the environment.”
He got off at the neighbourhood train station and then caught the bus that went directly in front of his house.
He sat as far away from an ugly looking woman on the bus as possible.
“Don’t want to upset my doctor and my psychiatrist about over exerting myself,” Goatee thought.
Several bus stops through the neighbourhood the ugly looking woman rather than getting off the front of the bus close to where she was sitting decided to walk to the exit at the back of the bus close to where Pan Goatee was sitting.
Big mistake on her part.
As Goatee kicked her head down the aisle of the bus after his usual body/head separation procedure that he performed on uglos, he commented, “Shit, what is it with all these suicidally inclined uglos today? One would think Justin Trudeau was Prime Minister of Canada or something? Oh wait a minute, he is. Well hopefully that will change next week.”
He followed a beautiful woman off the bus on his stop home.
“Well at least this will put me in a good mood before I start watching my soap operas,” Goatee thought.
Later after watching his favourite soap opera and the local news, Goatee walked to the neighbourhood mall to buy a submarine sandwich.
Fortunately for him, there seemed to be nothing but beautiful looking women around putting him in a very good mood.
After eating his sub, he headed out the door and went to walk across the street.
An air headed uglo who was leaving the public library thought she could walk past him.
She’d never have to worry about returning an overdue book again as Goatee kicked her head into the nearby leisure centre.
“What is up with all these suicidal uglos?” Goatee again wondered, “Well I hope my euthanasia efforts today earn me a nomination for the Humanitarian of The Year Award from the Canadian Medical Association.”
He was forced to take a pill for his exceptionally high blood pressure when he got home.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Wednesday October 16th
2019.
The Helpful Guest
The Helpful Guest
A man and a woman from Denver, Colorado were staying at a large hotel in Waikiki, Hawaii.
They were attending a convention at the hotel and the convention festivities would begin with a dinner and dance to be held in the hotel’s main ballroom.
They put on their best formal evening attire and took the elevator from the 11th floor (where their suite was located) down to the main floor and lobby.
As the hotel was extremely large, they had no idea how to get to the main ballroom.
They went to the front desk and asked the desk clerk for directions.
He gave them directions which they faithfully followed.
They wound up at the hotel’s entrance on Kalakaua Avenue which is the main thoroughfare through Waikiki.
There was no sign of a ballroom in sight.
They walked back to the front desk and again asked for directions.
The clerk gave them the directions.
They followed the directions and again wound up at the hotel’s entrance on Kalakaua Avenue.
This procedure then took place half a dozen more times.
Embarrassed they decided to go back to their room rather than again ask the clerk for directions.
The husband would call a friend also going to the convention and ask if he’d drop by their room and walk them to the main ballroom.
They took the elevator up to the 11th floor and walked down to their room.
They saw approaching them a very beautiful young Hawaiian woman who appeared to be in her early 20s.
She wore a very elegant evening dress which almost looked Victorian in its elegance.
Struck by a thought, the man asked the girl, “Are you going to the convention dinner and dance in the main ballroom tonight?”.
“No, I’m not,” the girl answered.
“Oh, that’s too bad,” said the man, “we keep trying to find the main ballroom and we get hopelessly lost. We’ve already asked the front desk about half a dozen times for directions how to get there and we always wind up at the same place- the hotel’s entrance on Kalakaua Avenue.”
“This is an extremely large hotel,” the young woman admitted, “and easy to get lost in. And always winding up on Kalakaua Avenue? For two people from Denver, Colorado, walking around Waikiki at night can be dangerous sometimes. I’ll show you personally.”
The husband and wife then deduced that the woman was not a hotel guest but a hotel employee since she knew they came from Denver, Colorado.
They rode down the elevator with the young woman and went through the lobby following the beautiful young Hawaiian girl through the vast expanse of the hotel.
They came to an escalator.
“Go directly up there,” the girl pointed, “and up there is the main ballroom.”
The husband and wife looked up the escalator and hanging from the ceiling was a huge banner welcoming people to the convention.
“Thank you very much,” said the man, “What is your name by the way?”.
“My name is Victoria,” the young woman smiled.
The man reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet to give the girl a tip.
But when he looked up, she had gone.
“Did you see where she went?” The husband asked his wife.
“No,” the wife shook her head.
The next night after a day of convention activities, the man and his wife would be going on an evening tour.
They had gone to the lobby and were about to make the walk to the parkade where their rent-a-car was parked when suddenly the man said, “Let’s stop by the front desk. And ask who that Victoria was that helped us out last night. I really do want to give her a tip.”
They talked to the same clerk who had been working the night before.
The same one they had constantly pestered about directions.
“I don’t recall a Victoria who works here,” said the man, “but I’ll check the employee registry.”
There was no Victoria listed.
The husband asked if the clerk would mind checking the hotel guest list for anyone named Victoria.
No Victoria registered.
Puzzled, they left the front desk and began the long walk down the hotel hallway to the parkade.
They suddenly passed a painting and the wife nudged the husband and said, “The woman in that painting. Isn’t that the girl who helped us?”.
The man looked.
“Yes,” the man said, “It is. She must have won an Employee of the Year Award and they painted her picture and hung it here.”
They walked back to the front desk and told the clerk that the woman’s picture was hanging in the hallway and she must be an employee here.
The clerk asked the couple to show him the picture.
They took the clerk to see the painting.
“And you said this woman told you her name was Victoria?” The clerk asked.
“That’s right,” the husband nodded.
The clerk asked the couple, “Did you look at the name below the painting?”.
“No, we didn’t,” the husband replied.
“Look at the name,” said the clerk.
The name below the portrait read,
Princess Victoria Ka’iulani.
“That woman,” said the clerk, “was the last Crown Princess of the Kingdom of Hawaii.”
. . .
Later that evening, the man and wife were telling their story and their experience to the tour guide of the tour they were going on.
The tour guide (who had a vast knowledge of Hawaiian history) seemed to be astounded by their story.
“Two things,” the tour guide held up two of his fingers, “One. How did the woman know you’re from Denver, Colorado? And the second thing… yesterday’s date… March 6th 1999. Now that date doesn’t of course mean anything to you and it obviously doesn’t mean anything to the clerk working the front desk. But yesterday March 6th 1999 would be 100 years to the day that Crown Princess Victoria Ka’iulani died on March 6th 1899.”
-A short story
written by Christopher
Wednesday October 15th
2019.
-based on a true story
Artemis: Goddess of The Hunt
Artemis: Goddess of The Hunt
A whisper in the wind
A rustle in the trees
A mid-October autumn
A point between
the September Indian Summer
and the cold winds of Samhain
In early November
The land waits in anticipation
A hunter’s moon last evening
And soon the hunter will appear
It is Artemis the goddess of the hunt
Who stands at the door
For the hunt this side of autumn
Will be a hunt like no other
-A poem and vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Monday October 14th
2019.
Nimrod On The Night of The Hunter’s Moon
Nimrod On The Night of The Hunter’s Moon
Sunday October 13th 2019.
Evening.
The night of the hunter’s moon.
A full moon.
The first full moon that follows the harvest moon.
The hunter’s moon.
And on this night of the hunter’s moon, Nimrod (described in the biblical Book of Genesis as a mighty hunter against The Lord) stood on the dome of Saint Peter’s Basilica.
He, of course, was no longer a man.
After having been hit over the head by his wife Semiramis back in the days of Babel which should have killed him, the dying Nimrod was abducted by a group of ET grays.
They took him to his planet where they healed him.
Nimrod was grateful for otherwise he’d have probably wound up in the flames of Tartarus in the Underworld if he had died.
He hung around with the ET grays until their spacecraft crashed near Tuktoyaktuk Northwest Territories in Canada back in December 2014.
The crash killed both the grays and him.
Fortunately for Nimrod just before his spirit was to be thrown into Tartarus, he was brought back from the dead after the vampiress Lilith gave him a magic kiss after kissing him on the lips as his body lay in a DARPA secret research lab not far from Washington DC.
The magic kiss did have one serious side effect however.
It turned him into a little green frog.
And now the little frog that was Nimrod was quietly ribbiting on the dome of Saint Peter’s Basilica.
He was here because of a tarot card reading given him by the gypsy fortune teller Dulcinea Lucia when he was in London recently.
Dulcinea had told him that if he sat on the dome of Saint Peter’s Basilica during the next hunter’s moon, a magic bow and arrow would come down from the moon and he would once again be a mighty hunter.
So here was Nimrod waiting for the bow and arrow.
Several pieces of green cheese fell from the moon and fell nearby him which he ate.
Finally a bow and arrow fell right on top of his head.
“Owww!” Nimrod ribbited.
The centaur Sagittarius appeared to Nimrod and told the frog that the Vatican was about to be attacked by a pack of Transylvanian werewolves.
Nimrod could re-invigorate his hunting skills by hunting the werewolves.
Nimrod asked, “Why should I do that?”.
Sagittarius replied, “Because the Vatican has been under the control of Allatallahbel the Vampiress Priestess of Baal and the Vampiric Knights-Templar since October 13th 2017. And remember Allatallahbel is an ally of Lilith who brought you back from the dead. So to help Allatallahbel keep the Vatican is a good thing. Those werewolves were hired by Russian President Vladimir Putin to take the Vatican for Russia.”
Nimrod didn’t understand modern geopolitics but took the centaur’s advice.
He checked his supply of arrows and was relieved to see they all had silver tips.
Otherwise he wouldn’t be able to kill a single werewolf never mind a whole pack of them.
When the werewolves attacked at the height of the hunter’s moon, Nimrod fired his arrows.
There were 99 werewolves in all.
As Nimrod fired, he sang,
“99 werewolves of fear on the wall,
99 werewolves of fear,
shoot one down,
watch it hit the ground,
98 werewolves of fear on the wall…”
And so on and so forth until there were none left.
Allatallahbel: Pleased by Nimrod’s defence of her captive Vatican from an attack by an invading pack of Transylvanian werewolves
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Sunday October 13th
2019.
Ethiopian Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed Wins Nobel Peace Prize
Ethiopian Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed Wins Nobel Peace Prize
“I see the 2019 Nobel Peace Prize has been awarded to Ethiopian Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed,” Amadeus Emanon remarked to his friend British MP Renfield R. Renfield.
“I noticed that,” Renfield nodded, “Putting an end to a war that’s lasted 20 years (the Ethiopian-Eritrean conflict of 1998-2018), he certainly deserved it.”
“I noticed multitudes of people on various social media networks are very upset and outraged that Greta Thunberg did not win this year’s Nobel Peace Prize,” Amadeus pointed out.
“I saw a good meme that answered all those critics in the idiocy sphere,” Renfield showed Amadeus the meme on his laptop:
“That is a good meme,” Amadeus admitted.
“Yes, awarding a Nobel Peace Prize to someone who ended 20 years of war instead of giving it to someone who looks like a walking advertisement for the hazards of irregularity,” said Renfield.
“What’s that piece of paper you’re holding?” Amadeus asked.
“I printed up a photo that Peter Whitstable the man they call the Fox Mulder of Interpol sent me,” Renfield handed the photo to Amadeus, “it’s a photo showing Democratic Presidential candidate Beto O’ Rourke selling his soul to Baphomet.”
“Wow, Beto O’ Rourke sold his soul to Baphomet?” Amadeus hurriedly made the sign of the Cross which frightened off Pope Francis’ pet raven who happened to be gazing through the window.
“Yes,” Renfield took back the photo, “It should come as no surprise given some of the statements that O’Rourke has made recently.”
“Will that help him win the Presidency?” Amadeus asked.
“Who knows?” Renfield shrugged, “But to paraphrase a Carpenter From Nazareth (whose incarnate deity Pope Francis denies), ‘What shall it profit a man if he gains the Presidency of the United States and loses his own soul’?”.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday October 11th
2019.
Renfield Discusses The Turkish Invasion of Syria
Renfield Discusses The Turkish Invasion of Syria
British MP Renfield R. Renfield was discussing the Turkish invasion of Syria with his friend Amadeus Emanon.
“Well several civilians have been killed and tens of thousands of people have been forced to flee their homes in northern Syria as a result of the megalomaniac Erdogan’s invasion,” Renfield remarked as he carved a turkey to make a turkey sandwich.
“And is the megalomaniac Trump going to do anything about it?” Amadeus asked as he carved a ham to make a ham sandwich.
“No, he’s too worried about impeachment,” Renfield added a sliced peach to his turkey sandwich, “a couple of Eastern European friends of his lawyer Rudy Giuliani were arrested today and charged with campaign finance fraud in making illegal contributions to Trump’s 2016 campaign.”
Some shit hit the fan in the kitchen at that moment.
“I should have known better than to leave the window open with all those geese blowing around in this windstorm,” Renfield closed the window.
“Where is most of the fighting in northern Syria taking place at the moment?” Amadeus asked.
“Around the border towns of Ras al-Ain and Tal Abyad,” Renfield answered.
“And what is the UN doing about it?” Amadeus inquired.
“What the UN always does in these situations,” Renfield acknowledged, “Nothing.”
Athelstan the butler entered the kitchen to make tea, “I understand the UN Security Council held an emergency meeting today to discuss the situation at the request of Britain, France, Germany, Belgium and Poland.”
“Which will just produce nothing but a lot of handwringing,” Renfield noted.
A bunch of severed hands from living dead zombies began ringing the doorbell.
Athelstan went to the door with a can of RAID House and Garden Zombie Killer and started spraying the hands where they dropped like flies.
“I see Erdogan says that he’ll send the 3.6 million refugees that Turkey hosts to Europe if Europe dares to call the Turkish offensive an occupation,” Amadeus added mustard to his ham sandwich.
“Yes, Erdogan seems to have a thing about certain words,” Renfield put cranberries on his turkey, “just like he doesn’t like it when you call what Turkey did to the Armenians in 1915 a genocide.”
“How’s Prince Vlad Dracula doing on the ground in northern Syria?” Amadeus inquired.
“He’s fighting alongside the Kurds,” Renfield bit into his turkey sandwich, “and his daughter the Countess Draculina has joined him along with my personal Army brigade of Gurkhas.”
Countess Draculina: Battling the invading Turkish forces of Recep Tayyip Erdogan
. . .
Pope Francis was at his desk in his Vatican apartment when the phone rang.
It was Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan calling.
“Hello, Frankie old boy,” the Turkish President tried to sound informal, “I hear you deny the incarnate deity of Jesus Christ. Being a Muslim, I too deny the incarnate deity of Jesus Christ. So since we have that in common, I was wondering if you’d like to take part in my coronation when I’m crowned Sultan of a revived Ottoman Empire.”
“What was the date you planned for that?” Francis asked.
Erdogan answered.
“Let me check my calendar,” Francis opened his little red notebook with a photo of Chairman Mao on the cover, “Yes, that should be fine.”
A lemon meringue pie was thrown in Francis’ face at that moment just as Swiss Guards outside the apartment shouted that a 6 foot 8 tall bunny rabbit had just entered the papal apartment.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Thursday October 10th
2019.
Renfield Discusses Pope Francis, Turkey and Belgium With Geeta Guru-Murthy
Renfield Discusses Pope Francis, Turkey and Belgium With Geeta Guru-Murthy
BBC’s Geeta Guru-Murthy was interviewing British MP Renfield R. Renfield the UK’s Deputy Foreign Secretary In Charge of Geopolitical Intelligence Gathering.
They were discussing major happenings from around the world.
“Now, my first question to you, Mr. Renfield,” Geeta began, “does not involve strictly a political matter. However it has caused a great deal of controversy around the world and does involve a major global institution. The issue is of course the claim made by Italian journalist Eugenio Scalfari in today’s issue of La Republicca newspaper that Pope Francis does not believe in the incarnate Deity of Jesus Christ. What is your reaction?”.
“Well if Scalfari’s claims are true,” Renfield answered, “then we have the 2019 answer to that old question, Is the Pope Catholic? And that answer is, he isn’t.”
“Now regarding the situation in northern Syria,” Geeta went on, “Is it true that you sent your own personal Army Brigade of Gurkas over there to fight alongside the Kurds against Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan’s invading forces?”.
“It’s true,” Renfield answered as he ate a donair.
“And what do you think Erdogan has in mind in invading northern Syria?” Geeta queried.
“Well,” Renfield wiped his mouth with a napkin, “Erdogan’s attitude is if genocide was good enough for the Armenians in 1915, then it’s good enough for the Kurds in 2019.”
Renfield’s statement was met with a visceral reaction by the Turkish Ambassador in London who sent off a fiery letter of protest to the British Foreign Office.
Later when Renfield got home and was informed of the Turkish Ambassador’s note, Renfield thought to himself, “The Turkish Ambassador has obviously got his knickers in a knot.”
He immediately called the Sherrielock Holmes Dominatrix Agency to unknot the Turkish Ambassador’s knickers for him.
Later that night, the Turkish Ambassador was ambushed by 4 dominatrixes who pulled his pants down and cut up his underpants with scissors.
Geeta then asked Renfield, “What is your reaction to former Belgian Prime Minister Guy Verhofstadt’s severe criticism of the Johnson government’s handling of Brexit that he made during a heated exchange in the European Parliament today?”.
“It made me seriously wonder whether we the British were correct in coming to the defence of Belgium back in 1914 when the Kaiser’s Germany invaded the country,” Renfield ate a plate of sauerkraut and sausages, “After all the evil Belgian King Leopold II committed genocide against 10 million Africans when he established a colony in the Congo not to mention robbing that country of most of its wealth thus making Belgium the wealthy spoiled brat country that it is today. We have to seriously ask ourselves was it worth it for the British Empire to declare war on Germany to come to Belgium’s defence thus setting in motion the First World War (with its resulting 4 years of horrific bloodshed) when had we ignored Belgium’s plight, the conflict would have remained strictly a European conflict rather than become a world wide conflict? Was it worth all that bloodshed to come to the aid of a country that is home to the world’s worst makers of Belgian waffles?”.
Renfield’s comment was met with a vitriolic reaction by the Belgian Ambassador to London who likewise sent off a fiery letter of protest to the British Foreign Office.
Later that night, the Belgian Ambassador was likewise ambushed by 4 leather skirted dominatrixes who pulled his pants down and cut up his underpants with scissors.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Wednesday October 9th
2019.
The Riddle of The Sphinx
The Riddle of The Sphinx
Prince Vlad Dracula was on the ground in the Syrian-Iraqi border area where Kurdish forces were under attack by Turkish planes.
Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan the would be Sultan of a revived Ottoman Empire did not waste any time after Donald Trump announced a withdrawal of U.S. troops from Syria.
The Kurds may have helped defeat the evil Islamic State (aka ISIS) but gratitude is something historically that the U.S. government has never really believed in no matter who was the President.
Donald Trump the would be neo-Roman God-Emperor of the United States said that he would use his “great and unmatched wisdom” to destroy Turkey’s economy if Erdogan took advantage.
The same way Trump’s “great and unmatched wisdom” in getting into a trade war with China and the possibility of it getting worse caused stock markets to drastically fall today.
The “great and unmatched wisdom” of a simple phone call with a Ukrainian leader which had since led to an impeachment inquiry by the U.S. House of Representatives.
The “great and unmatched wisdom” in accusing Rep. Adam Schiff and Rep. Nancy Pelosi of “treason” and saying they should be “impeached” (the “great and unmatched wisdom” seemingly unaware that Congresspeople cannot be impeached).
Prince Vlad Dracula thought to himself that Trump showed the strategic ability of a certain branch of the Caesar family.
Trump showed the strategic ability of the Emperor Gaius Caligula as opposed to the strategic ability of Caligula’s father the great Roman General Germanicus (who helped conquer Germany for the Romans).
Prince Vlad Dracula pulled out his smart phone and made a call to British MP Renfield R. Renfield the UK’s Deputy Foreign Secretary In Charge of Geopolitical Intelligence Gathering.
The Kurds were going to need all the help they could get in defeating the Turks.
. . .
Donald Trump was looking in the mirror and singing his own paraphrased version of an old country and western music song,
“Oh Donald, it’s hard to be humble
When you’re perfect in every way
I can’t wait to look in the mirror
Cause I get better looking each day
To know me is to love me
I must be a Hell of a man
Oh Donald, it’s hard to be humble
But I’m doing the best that I can…”
Melania Trump who had been standing outside the open bedroom door and listening suddenly doubled over into huge gales of laughter.
She continued to laugh hysterically.
Yvette the French maid asked Lexington the English butler and valet, “What is the matter with Madame Trump?”.”
“I’m not sure,” said a concerned and worried Lexington, “but I fear insanity may be contagious around the White House.”
. . .
Sophia the Greco-Egyptian Gnostic goddess of wisdom sat on what became her throne along the banks of the River Thames.
A huge Sphinx that sat on one of the embankments.
Today a group of her devotees gathered in front of her.
Sophia was worried that her son Yaldabaoth the Irish leprechaun would soon be without a place to sleep as her sobriety challenged leprechaun son slept on the border between the Republic of Ireland and Northern Ireland.
What would happen if that border once again became a hard border?
She had summoned her followers to see if anything could be done to get German Chancellor Angela Merkel to accept the Renfield-Johnson Plan on Brexit and the Irish border.
Renfield walking along the banks of the Thames saw the gathering.
Renfield took off his top hat and spoke, “I have a suggestion.”
“Yes,” Sophia looked at him with her flashing dark eyes.
“Your grasp of the Sphinx’s claws has given me an idea,” said Renfield.
And on this day, Sherlock Holmes was no longer around to solve the Curious Matter of The Grasp of The Sphinx’s Claws.
To be continued.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday October 8th
2019.
Quetzalcoatl In The Amazon Rainforest
Quetzalcoatl In The Amazon Rainforest
London based private eyes Agathor Christie and Magog Rhys Petley continued their trek through the Amazon rainforest to see who was responsible for starting the fires there this past summer.
“I miss a pint of good English brown ale at the moment,” said Agathor Christie.
“I miss a nice steaming plate of Welsh rarebit,” answered Magog Rhys Petley.
“I miss all the hallucinogenic plants to be found in my part of the Amazon,” stated their indigenous guide in his native language.
They stumbled upon a clearing in the jungle.
A flying reptile dinosaur flew over them.
“Wow,” said an astonished Agathor Christie, “Sir Arthur Conan Doyle was right when he wrote his novel The Lost World about there being a lost world of dinosaurs to be found somewhere in the Amazon Rainforest.”
“Now Canadian blogger Dracul Van Helsing will know where to come to eat roast pterodactyl,” noted Magog Rhys Petley who had read the blogger’s Sunshine Blogger award post on one of those rare days when wireless internet was actually working in the Amazon Rainforest.
“That’s not a pterodactyl,” Agathor Christie remarked smugly, “That particular type of pterosaur that just just flew over us and unleashed his droppings on our guide… I’d wager to say that what he’s currently saying in his language are a whole bunch of expletives… that pterosaur is called a Quetzalcoatlus.”
“Well aren’t you the big know it all,” Magog spoke in sarcastic fashion.
“It comes from taking Paleontology as my Science option in University,” Agathor smiled.
Suddenly loud piercing screams came from another part of the clearing.
The trio looked in the direction of the screams and noticed a man dressed in ceremonial robes ripping the hearts out of people with an obsidian knife after they were placed on an altar.
A fierce looking creature then grabbed the hearts and ate them after they were ripped out of the sacrificial victims’ chests.
“What in the name of God is that?” Magog pointed at the fierce looking creature.
“That is the Aztec feathered serpent god Quetzalcoatl,” Agathor Christie once again smiled smugly.
“And how do you know that, all knowing one?” Magog was thinking of punching out his partner’s clock.
“I recognize him from illustrations and drawings,” Agathor continued to smile, “I took Mesoamerican Religions as my Religious Studies option back in University.”
They watched as the priest continued to rip out still beating hearts and gave them to Quetzalcoatl to eat.
“I wonder what Quetzalcoatl is doing in Brazil when he’s supposed to be in Mexico,” Agathor Christie scratched his head.
“Perhaps he downloaded the latest upgraded version of GPS app to his laptop and got hopelessly lost as a result,” Magog suggested.
The priest doing the sacrificing had a short wave radio next to the sacrificial altar on which this song was being played,
Bonnie Tyler singing,
“Nothing I can say
A total eclipse of the heart…”
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Monday October 7th
2019.
Kurdish Dancers, Arabian Nights and No Turkish Delights
October 12, 2019 at 9:56 pm (Commentary, Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, International Intrigue, News, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (Boris Johnson, Donald Trump, Ghost of Lady MacBeth, Lady MacBeth, Renfield R. Renfield, Saudi Crown Prince Mohammad bin Salman, The Ghost of Lady MacBeth, Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan, United Kingdom Prime Minister Boris Johnson)
Kurdish Dancers, Arabian Nights and No Turkish Delights
British Prime Minister Boris Johnson was about to have a phone call with Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan regarding the Turkish invasion of northern Syria.
He decided to have Renfield R. Renfield his Deputy Foreign Secretary In Charge of Geopolitical Intelligence Gathering in the background during the call.
Renfield being Renfield would undoubtedly do or say something that would help pressure Erdogan during the phone call and encourage him to pull out of Turkey.
As Johnson began talking to Erdogan, Renfield began singing his own paraphrased version of the song Henry VIII an old time honoured British music hall song.
Renfield singing,
“I am Erdogan the last I am, I am,
I just gave syphilis to the neighbour next door,
I’ve given out syphilis several times before,
every dirty sperm is an Erdogan,
ERDOGAN!
I’m Erdogan the last, I am, I am…”
“I hate the British!” Was Erdogan’s remark when he had finished the call with Johnson.
. . .
Saudi Crown Prince Mohammad bin Salman was in the kitchen of one of his palaces where the cooks were preparing bones and meat left over from the Prince’s various opponents who had encountered MbS’s janitorial maintenance cleaning crews throughout the world.
“All these dishes are being prepared for the right guest,” MbS proudly told the ghost of Lady MacBeth who served as his spirit advisor.
“I see more American troops are arriving in Saudi Arabia,” Lady MacBeth commented.
“Yes, rather splendid of Trump to pull his troops out of Syria and start sending his troops over here to the Kingdom,” MbS smiled.
“Nothing like stabbing the Kurds in the back,” remarked the ghost of Brutus (who had stabbed Julius Caesar) as he ran by while being chased by Cerberus after he had temporarily escaped from the Underworld.
. . .
Donald Trump was in a garden when he saw a beautiful brunette woman in an exquisite and lovely green evening dress dancing sensuously in the moonlight.
Trump looked around.
No sign of Melania or anyone else.
Trump smiled.
He walked towards the woman and decided to be his usual charming self in order to entice the woman to him.
“Birds do it, bees do it,” Trump began singing, “even dogs and trees do it…”
Trump approached the woman.
He decided to use that classic pick up line from the Peter Sellers movie There’s A Girl In My Soup, “My God, but you’re lovely…”
“I’m also Kurdish,” the woman with flashing dark eyes pulled a knife out from under her dress and stabbed him… in the front… a little due south.
Trump woke up in a sweat.
He suddenly thought he heard Middle Eastern music being played from the White House garden.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday October 12th
2019
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