A Tale of Two Hybrids

March 23, 2016 at 8:38 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, News, Vampire novel) (, , , , )

A Tale of Two Hybrids

Pan Goatee was walking down the street of the city cutting off the heads of any ugly looking women who happened to cross his path.

When one attractive looking teen-aged girl requested taking a selfie with her and Pan Goatee cutting off the head of her ugly looking friend, Pan Goatee obliged but he put a bag over the ugly looking girl’s head first.

“No use ruining your Facebook friends’ day by having to look at an ugly looking person,” Pan Goatee explained.

The girl took a selfie of herself smiling with her arms around a beaming photogenic Pan Goatee while the beaming satyr serial killer held up the paper bag wearing severed head of her ugly looking friend that dripped blood to the ground.

. . .

Another captured ISIS prisoner was taken into the interrogation chamber at a secret location in London where his interrogator Renfield R. Renfield was awaiting him.

Renfield was a freelance interrogator often used by Scotland Yard, MI-5 and MI-6 as well as the CIA (he was even used by a chapter of the PTA in Southern California at one juncture in time to deal with a couple of particularly obnoxious parents who were often disruptive at local PTA meetings).

Renfield’s particularly unique form of interrogation was kept secret from the general public as it would no doubt upset the politically correct bleeding hearts among them.

Whenever the political elites in the West made use of those like Renfield, the streets of Western Civilization were usually safe.

When their conscience gave in to the cries of political correctness and they temporarily laid aside the Renfields of the world, that’s when attacks like those that happened in Paris last year and yesterday in Brussels occurred.

Now after the Brussels attack, captured ISIS prisoners that were held at secret locales throughout Europe were wheeled into Renfield’s interrogation center nicknamed The King and I Hotel (to honour those song lyrics from the musical The King and I that went, “Getting to know you, getting to know all about you…”).

There inside The King and I Hotel interrogation center, Renfield would interview the prisoners in a very un-Oprah Winfreyesque fashion.

As the prisoner was wheeled into the room, Renfield was putting a couple of human eyeballs, severed hands, severed feet, and other severed body parts into a Ziploc plastic bag.

“Oh hello,” Renfield flashed a warm friendly smile at the prisoner, “I’m just finishing up with the last of the fellow who was brought in before you.”

As the ISIS prisoner gulped and swallowed hard, Renfield handed the Ziploc bag to a Scotland Yard policeman.

“Would you mind putting this in the refrigerator for me? I’ll take it home so my boss can have it as a midnight snack later,” he said referring to his regular employer the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set.

The policeman bowed and left.

“So,” Renfield decided to make casual friendly chit chat before getting down to the nitty gritty of things, “Did you hear what that airhead Hillary Clinton said after winning in Arizona? She said she was proud to serve in an administration that didn’t use torture. What an airhead. Barry Goldwater must have rolled over in his grave upon hearing that. Thank God (or I guess you say Allah don’t you?) that such a stupid ugly old bat isn’t running for Prime Minister of Britain.”

Renfield looked at his Rolex watch, “Well, time to get down to business.”

He took a pair of pliers out of the drawer.

“I always wondered,” Renfield held up a pair of pliers, “how do you say ‘Can you give me a blow job please?’ in Arabic. I notice there’s a lot of attractive looking Arab girls walking the streets of London these days and women are always much more impressed when you can speak to them in their language. So how do you say that?”.

“I’m not going to tell you,” the ISIS prisoner was defiant.

“Wrong answer,” Renfield started pulling out the man’s fingernails with the pliers while he recited the lines from an old Palmolive dishwashing liquid commercial from the 1960s, “It looks like you’ve got dishpan hands. You’re probably using the wrong sort of dishwashing liquid. All that chapped skin doesn’t look so good. Why not switch to Palmolive? Your hands will be soaking in them in a second.”

Renfield put the man’s hands in a dish of liquid.

The man started screaming his head off.

“Oops, me bad,” Renfield grinned apologetically, “I must have accidentally put sulfuric acid instead of Palmolive dishwashing liquid in that dish.”

Suddenly a knock at the door and a Scotland Yard policeman wheeled in a dolly with a huge tea pot and two cups.

“Oh, coffee break time,” Renfield looked at his Rolex again, “The Interrogators’ Union won these privileges for hardworking union members such as myself.”

Renfield put one of the teacups down between the bound prisoner’s genitals and then proceeded to pick up the teapot and sing Anna’s song from The King and I, “Getting to know you, getting to know all about you… a cup of tea…”

Renfield poured tea into the teacup between the man’s genitals and then continued pouring even as the cup overflowed.

“Hm, your cup overfloweth,” Renfield put the tea pot down and scratched his head, “I must remember to ask a Japanese geisha next time I see one how to do that properly in Japanese tea ceremony fashion.”

As the prisoner screamed his head off, Renfield asked him, “Speaking of which, do you know how to say ‘Can I have a blow job please?’ in Japanese ?”.

When the prisoner shook his head, Renfield said, “Wrong answer” and proceeded to use the pliers on the man’s toe nails while reciting, “This little piggy went to market, this little piggy stayed home, this little piggy had roast beef, this little piggy had none, this little piggy went “Waaaah… waaaah… all the way home.”

The prisoner started screaming.

“Yes,” Renfield nodded his head smiling, “but more of a “Waaaah… waaaah!” Let’s try it again one more time shall we until you get it right?”.

Renfield then started pulling off the man’s actual toes while reciting the childhood verse.

And such is a day in the life of interrogator Renfield R. Renfield- the bane of ISIS’ existence- as he extracts personal information of a pick-up line nature for himself and secrets that governments could use to stop further terrorist attacks.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Wednesday March 23rd
2016.

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6 Comments

  1. doesitevenmatter3 said,

    Gotta’ love R.R. Renfield! Or Triple R, as I like to call him! 😉
    I hope he gets the info he desires, in all the languages he desires it in! 😛
    HUGS!!! 🙂

  2. Hyperion said,

    Renfield has such a charming way with the clients. I like his non-Oprah Winfreyesque methodologies. It seems to keep Set well supplied and diminishes the presence of evil on the streets. What could be the down side? 😉

    • Dracul Van Helsing said,

      Indeed.

      Not much of a down side to this non-economic supply side theory of bodily dismemberment and vampiric cannibalistic recompense.

      What’s good for Set is bad for ISIS. 😀

      • Hyperion said,

        I think it should stay that way. 😀

      • Dracul Van Helsing said,

        Indeed, I’d most definitely say so. 😀

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