Easter Morn in London’s Highgate Cemetery

April 24, 2011 at 7:15 pm (Commentary, Mystery, Mystery/horror, Vampire novel) (, , , , )

Three of the heavy metal rocker Stryker’s groupies were in a London fish and chips shop nursing a hangover from the night before.

One girl opened up her purse and two of the other girls screamed, “Oh, my God! Oh, my God! You’ve got a penis in there.”

“How the Hell did that get in there?” the girl who was blonde scratched her head.

“I know, I know,” shouted the redhead, “you picked it up two nights ago after the rock star Stryker had his penis cut off by that guy who then turned into a hamster and scurried outside the nightclub.”

“I thought this extra large popsicle was taking a long time to suck,” the blonde sighed.

“It was no popsicle,” said the brunette, “like Miranda here just said, it’s Stryker’s penis.”

“Oh, my God,” the blonde hit her forehead, “oh, what a dummy. oh, what a dummy.”

“We really should return it to Stryker,” said the brunette Vivian.

“But he’s dead isn’t he?” said the blonde named Candy.

“I heard that recording executive guy Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell tell the bouncers at the nightclub to bury Stryker in his own tomb at Highgate Cemetery,” Miranda the redhead spoke up.

“Let’s go and open Stryker’s coffin and put his penis back in,” said Vivian, “a guy like that shouldn’t be buried without his penis.”

“But how are we going to get into the tomb and into the coffin?” Candy asked.

“Don’t ask such questions,” Miranda slapped her, “this is no time for you to be developing a high IQ now.”

* * *

Many eyebrows were raised among various people in London’s Highgate Cemetery on this Easter morning as three very beautiful young women wearing extra short micro mini skirts and sexy pantyhose and sexy spiked stiletto high-heeled shoes entered the cemetery.

They asked one of the cemetery grounds keepers where Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell’s tomb was located and he pointed them in the right direction.

They passed by a British bank executive who was busy vomiting on Karl Marx’s tombstone that had on it the epitaph WORKERS OF ALL LANDS UNITE.

They approached the Campbell mausoleum.

The door was open.

“Look the door is open,” Miranda ran in.

“The coffin is empty,” said Candy who followed close on her heels.

“They’ve stolen Stryker’s body!” Vivian exclaimed, “The bastards!”.

* * *

Miranda stood at the empty coffin and wept.

“Miranda,’ a voice behind her gently said.

Miranda turned and saw a figure standing there.

“Please tell me where they have taken my rock lord’s body,” Miranda begged as she grabbed the stranger’s leg, “I won’t tell the authorities.”

“Miranda,” the figure opened his robe, “do you know where my penis is?.”

Miranda screamed and ran out of the mausoleum.

* * *

And thus had the death heavy metal rock star Stryker risen from the dead on this Easter Sunday morn in London’s Highgate Cemetery.

And it seemed like all the doves had left London.

And the city was overflowing with crows.

And on the radio from a nearby apartment that had its window open… could be heard playing that old song from the old 1960s rock musical Hair, “This is the dawning of the Age of Aquarius… the Age of Aquarius…”

To be continued.

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