The Death of The March Hare: A Poem

March 31, 2017 at 6:09 pm (Fantasy, Literature, Mystery/horror, Mythology, Poetry) (, , , , , , , , , , )

Persephone

On her throne, Persephone the Queen of the Underworld did decree
that the March Hare had brought joy to far too many
and it was time that this valiant hare should die
and should be now before March time did fly

So on this last day of March 2017
as the Hare drank tea with a Heartly Queen
the Messenger of Death did drop Polonium-210
into the hare’s teacup at the stroke of Big Ben

The hare raised the tea to his lips
as Mad Hatter recalled his latest trips
up through and outside the Rabbit hole
when the poor hare turned as black as coal

“Remember to pay the phone bill” were the Hare’s last words before he died
as into the frying pan went the Heartly queen’s kipper being fried
The March Hare fell over quite dead
and the Heartly queen turned bright red
“I did not say off with his head”.

The March Hare was buried with a carrot in his mouth
payment that Ferryman Charon told to take a hike south
and so the March Hare’s pour soul is now trapped on the River Styx
as Queen Persephone laughs and plays pick up sticks.

-A poem written by Christopher
Friday March 31st 2017.

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The Elephant Woman

March 30, 2017 at 6:58 pm (Commentary, Horror, Short stories, Short Story) (, , , , )

Gertrude Grannick was no John Merrick. She wasn’t born with a debilitating disease. A debilitating disease of the body at any rate- possibly a debilitating disease of the soul. She chose to be able to turn into an elephant in a bizarre black magic ceremony.

Gertrude Grannick had always held a high opinion of herself. She was the only who did. She had no friends in high school because she was so conceited.

If she had been beautiful, she might have been able to take advantage of men and count them among her suitors. Some women might have chosen to become friends with her in the hopes her popularity might rub off on them.

But Gertrude Grannick was ugly. Quite repulsively so. Ugly and conceited. A strange combination to say nothing of an outrageously stupid one.

Gertrude Grannick went for a degree in Social Work. Not out of any genuine desire to help people. But in hopes that someday she’d win a Citizen of the Year Award.

Upon graduating, she landed a job with a city social services agency. And she fell in love with her supervisor. If such a person as Gertrude Grannick was capable of love.

It was more of an obsession rather than what might be properly called love. But her supervisor Ted Dowling did not love her. In fact an office romance was starting to develop between Ted Dowling and another social worker Madge Simmons.

As Ted and Madge had candlelight dinners around the city, Gertrude would go home to her apartment and order in delivery. Usually about a dozen pizzas, a dozen orders of chicken wings and a dozen Chinese combo dishes from Ho-Ho’s Chinese Food.

She ate so much that Gertrude Grannick was starting to look like an elephant even before she participated in the black magic ceremony.

Then there had come that day at the office when Ted Dowling and Madge Simmons announced they were getting married. Gertrude Grannick was so angry that she had broke the pencil sharpener (to say nothing of the photocopier, the printer and the coffee machine) – all actions for which her employment was terminated.

Gertrude Grannick stampeded down the street in a huff- causing numerous damage to passing motor vehicles to say nothing of laying the groundwork for future pot holes (which would lead to the lighting up of city hall complaint lines).

Gertrude Grannick used her termination pay and what little she had of her savings (for her monthly food bill was quite out of this world) to fly to Africa.

For she had heard of a witch doctor in Congo who had the power to turn men and women into elephant people – people who had the power to shapeshift into elephants and use the power of the elephant to cause damage and destruction.

Gertrude Grannick hired a group of guides to take her to the village in the Congo where the witch doctor lived.

All but one of her guides died of starvation on the expedition (due to her eating up all the supplies).

When she reached the village hut where the witch doctor was (who was busy text messaging Donald Trump about the possible uses of black magic in 21st Century warfare). Gertrude Grannick told him, “I wish to become an elephant woman.”

Although the witch doctor was tempted to say, “You already are”, he bit his tongue instead (for which he said “Ouch!” in his native tribal language) and proceeded to chant the spell that would turn her into a shapeshifting elephant woman.

Upon chanting the spell, he gave her an instruction manual called So Now You’re An Elephant Woman, What’s Next? which gave Gertrude Grannick detailed instructions on how to enjoy her new found power.

Upon returning home to North America (where she spent the entire flight bitching and complaining about having to pay for the cost of three seats), she returned to the city of her recent Social Services job termination whereupon she turned into an elephant and stampeded and destroyed the house that Mr. and Mrs. Ted Dowling had bought.

She landed a job as a Distress Line counselor where people who called into the Distress Line were generally worse off than they were before calling in.

Gertrude Grannick was let go from that job after Department heads noticed a huge spike in the number of suicides after calls to the distress line.

After stampeding and destroying her Distress Line supervisor’s house, Gertrude Grannick eventually found her true calling in life- which was to serve as a licensing clerk in a Department of Motor Vehicles branch.

The Elephant Woman Gertrude Grannick continued to follow the activities of Mr. and Mrs. Ted Dowling.

When Mrs. Dowling gave birth to her first child, Gertrude Grannick turned into an Elephant Woman and stampeded and stormed and stomped the maternity ward of the hospital where the child was born.

The Dowlings had already taken their child home but that did nothing to relieve the grief of the other parents whose babies were killed.

A similar attack happened at another maternity ward when the Dowlings’ second child was born a few years later.

And then again when the Dowlings’ third child was born a couple of years after that.

A big game hunter Theodore Roosevelt Matthews (distantly related to the big game hunting President of the early 20th Century United States- Teddy Roosevelt) was brought in to try to catch this mysterious elephant known for destroying homes and maternity wards across the city the past decade.

Teddy Roosevelt Matthews was approached by a psychic Nyssa Dhawan who told him that the destroying elephant was no natural creature but a preternatural Elephant Woman- a woman given the black magic supernatural ability to shapeshift into an elephant.

Nyssa gave Theo a medallion with the image of the Hindu god Ganesha on it for protection.

In the meantime, Theodore Roosevelt Matthews began setting elephant traps across the city.

The Mayor was advising everyone to stay home. As a lot of sports league play-offs were currently underway to say nothing of a new reality TV series showing a bunch of catty women fighting and backstabbing one another, the mayor’s stay home message was definitely easier done than said. Both husbands and wives stayed home watching television. And their kids were naturally playing violent video games or busy text messaging one another in their rooms.

The streets of the city were quiet except for the earthshaking footsteps of the Elephant Woman Gertrude Grannick and the stealthy prowling quiet steps of the hunter Teddy Roosevelt Matthews.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” Gertrude Grannick bellowed in a voice that would have made Anne Rice’s Vampire Lestat wince at such an example of notoriously bad overacting.

Theodore Roosevelt Matthews said nothing. He just quietly bided his time.

Suddenly there was a roar as Elephant Woman Gertrude Grannick stepped in an elephant trap.

Normally the trap would have been easy to spot but a department store had wisely placed an elephant sized mirror in a large window and the narcissistically conceited Gertrude Grannick had stopped to admire herself in the mirror not noticing the trap in front of her.

Gertrude Grannick bellowed like an elephant cow in pain (which is what she was).

She waddled several blocks on 3 legs until she caught sight of Theodore Roosevelt Matthews. She bellowed at him and charged.

Theo opened the door of the nearest building which happened to be a Hindu temple.

Theo ran up to the central altar.

Gertrude Grannick stampeded through the door knocking it down.

She saw Theodore Roosevelt Matthews standing at the altar and charged at him.

Matthews waited and then ducked out of the way at the proper moment clutching at the medallion that the psychic Nyssa Dhawan had given him.

The Elephant Woman Gertrude Grannick struck the altar with full force causing the giant bronze statue of Ganesha to come crashing down from the ceiling with full force on top of her.

Ganesha’s bronze tusks pierced Gertrude Grannick’s head causing it to be severed from her body.

The Elephant Woman was dead.

A good elephant had triumphed over an evil elephant.

And the city was once again safe.

The only place that carried reminders of her existence was the local Department of Motor Vehicles licensing branch.

-A tale of horror
written by Christopher
Thursday March 30th
2017.

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Dashwood Forrest and Pan Goatee In Calgary

March 29, 2017 at 5:30 pm (Commentary, Culture, Folklore, Horror, Mythology, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , )

“What a place totally devoid of culture,” Dashwood Forrest the Oscar Wilde of the 21st Century said to his Undead butler and valet Mulligan the Irish zombie.

“I’d have to agree,” Mulligan the Irish zombie remarked. He had only spent less than 24 hours in the city and he was already forgetting how to recite Irish ballads and poetry.

“I imagine if one were looking for culture and learning in Calgary, one would probably only find it among certain people living in homeless shelters in a city such as this,” Dashwood Forrest sipped on his chocolate milkshake.

“I’d have to agree,” Mulligan the Irish zombie nodded, “and what extremely ugly women seem to live in this city. I’ve never seen such fat ugly looking specimens.”

Mulligan the Undead promptly died again as he looked out the window and saw the walking specimens of ghastly horror.

Mulligan’s last words before dying a second time were, “Genesis 6 would have never happened had the angels landed in Calgary instead of the Middle East. There would have been no rise of the Nephilim because the sons of God would not have found the daughters of men attractive.”

“Truer last words were never spoken, Mulligan,” Forrest acknowledged, “with the possible exception of Oscar Wilde’s last words spoken in his room, “Either that wallpaper goes or I do.” It’s amazing how unattractive interior decorating can lead to deaths of great geniuses. To say nothing of how unattractive exterior decorating can lead to the death of one’s valet.”

Dashwood Forrest thought of calling South African witch doctor Sterling Makabo on his mobile phone and get him to chant a spell to bring Mulligan back from the dead.

He thought he’d wait a while however until they had left Calgary.

Forrest was in a quandary however. Even though he was gay, the site of such repulsive ugly looking members of the opposite sex waddling around and fender bumping their broomsticks in public was enough to kill one’s libido faster than taking a cold shower in a U.S. Army barracks.

Forrest removed a classical ancient Greek olive oil lamp from his jacket pocket.

The lamp had been a gift from his good friend Ivanka Trump for favours rendered.

If he remembered his Arabian Nights folklore correctly, Aladdin used a magic lamp to summon a genie.

Maybe he could rub this lamp and summon a genie to bump off all these ugly women.

Dashwood Forrest rubbed the lamp.

Pan Goatee appeared.

“How the Hell did I get from an Orson Welles repertory film festival in Washington D.C. (where strangely enough I was the only one in the theatre) to a milk shake bar in what looks to be the city of Calgary- the city of gay cowboys- not surprising given the overall unattractiveness of the women here,” the genetically created satyr serial killer scratched his head.

“I do most humbly apologize, my good man,” Dashwood Forrest bowed, “or rather my good satyr, I was hoping to summon a genie but you’ll do. I was wondering if you could slay these ugly women for me.”

“Happy to oblige,” Pan Goatee took out his astrally projected laser machete and walked out the door where he proceeded to behead ugly women left, right and center.

Pan Goatee’s aesthetically oriented mercy killing actions led to Mulligan the Irish Zombie coming back from the dead.

“Why did we come to Calgary anyways?” Mulligan asked Dashwood Forrest.

“To see Lake Louise in the Blue Canadian Rockies to celebrate Dame Vera Lynn’s 100th Birthday earlier this month,” Dashwood Forrest explained.

“Then let’s go see Lake Louise and go,” Mulligan pleaded.

“An excellent idea,” Forrest said, “go outside and hail a taxi for us, will you?”.

As the Michael Jackson song Thriller played in the background on the old milkshake bar diner’s jukebox, Mulligan the Irish zombie ran outside and did just that.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Wednesday March 29th
2017.

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Orson Welles, Donald Trump and Dracul Van Helsing

March 28, 2017 at 4:14 pm (Culture, Film, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, News, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , )

The year was 1946 and actress Rita Hayworth was filming the movie Gilda with her co-star Glenn Ford.

She returned home to her husband Orson Welles only to see a mysterious entity de-materialize in front of her.

Sol Invictus Set De-materializing

“Who was that who just disappeared outside the door?” Rita asked Orson as she kissed him on the cheek.

“That was that London-based billionaire Mr. Sol Invictus Set who had asked me to direct a film for him,” Orson replied.

“Well, he certainly got the Hell out of here,” Rita quipped.

“I should say so,” Orson poured himself a glass of whisky and soda, “Hell is definitely where he belongs. He wanted me to write and direct a film about Hitler.”

“The subject material would certainly catch the attention of the world,” Rita poured herself a glass of milk.

“But he wanted it to be a film expressing admiration for Hitler,” Welles’ eyes flashed anger.

“Well, then you were wise telling him where to go,” Rita kissed him again.

Welles softened, “Thanks, Rita.”

Rita was thoughtful, “You seem to have a habit of offending billionaires, Orson. First William Randolph Hearst and now this Sol Invictus Set. I hope this doesn’t cost you.”

“Cost me? How?” Welles looked quizzically at his wife.

“I hope Hollywood doesn’t decide to blacklist you,” Rita looked almost clairvoyant, “turn down your ideas for making films. Europe would probably be more accepting of a genius such as yourself. But it would be a shame if America turned its back on supporting your artistic excellence.”

For once in his life, Welles was speechless.

. . .

U.S. President Donald Trump was sitting at his desk in the Oval Office wondering how he’d be able to use the Mary Poppins word Supercalifranchilisticexpealidocious in a tweet and still be able to make a profound statement.

The phone rang.

Trump picked it up.

“Hello?” Trump ran a radioactive monitoring comb through his hair.

“Hello, Dad, it’s me,” it was his daughter Ivanka, “you had called me earlier while I was busy chatting with Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau.”

“Yes, it was your closeness to Justin Trudeau that I was wanting to talk to you about,” Trump explained, “I was listening to a radio program about the paranormal on the radio last night featuring some former Canadian cabinet minister- some guy called Paul Hellyer. Anyways Paul Hellyer was saying that Justin Trudeau is in close contact with an ET gray from the planet Nibiru – some alien chap by the name of Gali-Gula whose ET body is supposedly possessed by the spirit of the ancient Roman Emperor Caligula. I was wondering if you could phone Prime Minister Trudeau for me and ask him if this is true.”

“But Dad, why don’t you just phone him yourself?” Ivanka asked.

“Yes, but as you know somebody has been leaking all the phone conversations I’ve been having with world leaders. If that one gets leaked, especially in lieu of the unusual subject matter, there may be some among the American people who’ll start to think I’m nuts,” Trump was shocked by the high level of radioactivity in his hair when he looked at his comb monitor.

“All right, Dad, I’ll call him,” Ivanka put her mobile phone down, smoothed her skirt and then speed dialed Justin Trudeau’s number.

. . .

The Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec and Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing were making love in a gondola on a canal in Venice.

“In Venice, veni, vidi, vici,” Dracul said as he collapsed in Qonzilqointec’s arms and even though he was a non-smoker, he longed for a cigarette for some reason.

“In Venice, you came, you saw, you conquered,” Qonzilqointec sighed in ecstasy.

He certainly came all right.

Qonzilqointec thought maybe she really should have taken her dress completely off.

She lit a cigarette and wondered what dry cleaner Monica Lewinsky used on her blue dress.

“We’re here at the house of the masked ball,” the gondolier announced.

“Who puts on a masked ball during Lent?” Qonzilqointec asked, “aren’t carnival masquerade balls supposed to happen before Lent?”.

“Welcome,” the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Sol Invictus Set materialized before the door.

Sol Invictus Set Re-materializing

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday March 28th
2017.

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King Arthur Meets Morgana: A Poem

March 27, 2017 at 4:31 pm (Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, Mythology, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , )

Through the mountains of Wales the young Arthur walked
recalling the days when he and his mentor Merlin talked
his mentor Merlin told him to beware of nymphs in these mountain passes
sexy creatures warned Merlin who turned men into bumbling jackasses

But Arthur was enjoying the crisp winter day
caring not what came his young regal way
he turned the corner
and erect went his sonar
though the aquatic tracking device Merlin saw was several years down the road
but what Arthur saw he now carried quite the heavy load

Morgana The Enchantress

And so the young King Arthur forgot Merlin’s sage advice
that night of lust would later cut him like a knife
so therefore my dear reader, beware of nymphs in the mountains
for like Arthur, what is sown may reap war’s blood-filled fountains.

-A poem written by Christopher
Monday March 27th 2017

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Haiku About FDR

March 26, 2017 at 3:46 pm (Biographical, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, Poetry) (, , , , , )

Battled polio
Fought Great Depression and then
Japan and Nazis

FDR

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Osiris, Isis and Pope Francis

March 25, 2017 at 3:36 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, Mythology, News, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , )

“Guess who I had dinner with last night?” The Rome-based Egyptian vampire Osiris asked his wife the Paris-based Egyptian vampiress Isis.

“With Pope Francis?” Isis dipped a silver spoon into her dish of Black Sea caviar as she sat in her apartment with a panoramic view of the Eiffel Tower.

“Oh shoot, I was hoping that would have been a surprise,” Osiris wiped the Eggs Florentine off his face as he sat in his apartment with a panoramic view of the Colosseum.

“I read about it in Renfield R. Renfield’s online newsletter,” Isis checked her iPad.

“That bastard who’s Chief of Security and Intelligence Gathering for our London-based evil brother Set?” Osiris spit out his freshly squeezed orange juice, “I think he must have wiretapped my phone.”

“He did,” Isis sipped her champagne, “he mentioned it in his newsletter a few weeks ago.”

“I should get an email subscription to that,” Osiris ate his toast.

“You should,” Isis put caviar on her bagel, “so how was the dinner with Pope Francis and the EU heads of state and government?”.

“It was wonderful,” Osiris’ smile was as bright as that of the Sun god Ra, “that Francis is a very ecumenical guy. He invited me to place a statue of myself in Saint Peter’s Basilica. Since last night was the eve of the 60th Anniversary of the signing of the Treaty of Rome which laid the groundwork for today’s European Union, he also called on a new vision for Europe to combat the evil populism that has overtaken Europe in the wake of Brexit and Donald Trump’s U.S. victory.”

“And I hope that new vision for Europe that Pope Francis sees is an ancient Egyptian vision as conceived by us centuries ago,” Isis walked over to the window and noticed a Kraken crawling up the Eiffel Tower.

“The very same,” Osiris looked out the window and noticed an ET gray emerging out of a spaceship atop Rome’s Colosseum.

At that moment, Isis got a text message on her phone sent to her by her disembodied son Horus.

“I have become incarnate again,” Horus gave his mother Isis the cheerful news, “I will be born in 9 months time.”

“Holy cow,” Renfield who had been eavesdropping on Isis and Osiris’ conversation knocked over his glass of milk.

Amadeus Emanon who immediately started crying over the spilled milk wept, “Actually I think Horus would be a holy falcon. Hathor was the holy cow in ancient Egyptian religion.”

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday March 25th
2017.

Vampiress Isis
Paris-based Egyptian Vampiress Isis: Hoping that the new vision for Europe will be an ancient Egyptian vision conceived millenia ago by Isis and Osiris.

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Renfield’s North Korean Alarm Clock Smashed

March 24, 2017 at 3:49 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, News, Vampire novel) (, , , , , )

Amadeus Emanon happened to walk by Renfield R. Renfield’s bedroom.

He looked in and noticed Renfield R. Renfield’s new alarm clock had been totally smashed.

“What happened to your cheap new North Korean alarm clock?” asked Amadeus.

“I smashed it to smithereens,” Renfield replied downing a 24 ounce bottle of vodka in a single gulp.

“Why?” asked Amadeus.

“I blame it for this past Wednesday’s terrorist attack outside Parliament at Westminster,” Renfield opened a second 24 ounce bottle of vodka and polished it off with the same speed as the first.

“How was the North Korean alarm clock you purchased from a Hyde Park peddler this past Tuesday responsible for the infamous Westminster terrorist attack the next day?” Amadeus opened his lunch bag and started eating a chocolate eclair.

“Because when the alarm struck 9 AM (which was the time I set it to) this past Wednesday and the figure of Kim Jong-un came out of the clock saying, “Cuckoo! Cuckoo! Cuckoo! I am cuckoo!” and the figure of Kim Jong-un smashed his ICBM shaped hammer on my head to wake me up, instead of waking me up immediately, it rendered me unconscious for the next several hours,” Renfield opened a third 24 ounce bottle of vodka and downed it with the same speed as his first two.

“So how was that responsible for the terrorist attack outside Parliament?” Amadeus took out his jumbo hot dog (smothered in mustard and fried onions and relish and ketchup) from his lunch bag and began eating it.

“Because if I had woken up at the time I wanted to, I’d have probably been walking across the Westminster Bridge at the time and I could have blown the bastard away to kingdom come with one of the numerous concealed weapons I carry on my person as I’m out walking,” Renfield downed his 4th 24 ounce bottle of vodka.

“Would you have been able to stop a speeding vehicle?” Amadeus bit his way into a blueberry filled turnover

“With my anti-tank rocket launcher I could have,” Renfield belched as he opened up his 5th 24 ounce bottle of vodka.

“You carry an anti-tank rocket launcher with you under your raincoat?” Amadeus removed a pot of chili con carne from his lunch bag and started eating it.

“That’s why I’m always getting dates with female porn stars,” Renfield grinned, “they think I’m the new Ron Jeremy.”

Renfield downed his 6th 24 ounce bottle of vodka and then passed out.

“Well I hope there isn’t a terrorist attack tonight,” Amadeus removed a rather sticky cheese fondue from his lunch bag, “the Boss (referring to the London based billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set) will be rather pissed off if Renfield starts smashing his prized collection of 24 ounce bottles of vodka blaming them for the latest Renfieldian inability to stop a terrorist attack in the UK.”

“Not much chance of that, sir,” Athelstan the butler and valet removed Renfied’s drunken body from the hallway carpet and threw it in the shapeshifting hamster/human’s bed room, “Renfield would most likely filter the vodka through his kidneys first and then start pissing it down the drain.”

“Where have all the porn stars gone? Gone out of my hot tub every one,” Renfield started singing from the bed room, “I shouldn’t have brought an electric battery into the tub with me. When will I ever learn? When will I ever learn?”.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday March 24th
2017.

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Feast of The Beast 2017

March 23, 2017 at 6:06 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, Horror, Mystery/horror, Mythology, News, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , )

Inspector Depp of Scotland Yard showed Peter Whitstable (the man they called the Fox Mulder of Interpol) the video that had been shot in England’s Sherwood Forest in the early morning hours of the day.

“These men of course were involved in an illegal out of season hunt for which they’ll be charged- those who are still alive that is,” Depp explained, “but look what happens in the video.”

The hunters encounter a stag.

As the men raised their rifles, the stag stands up on its hind legs and in its forearms it carries a crossbow which it fires with lightning speed.

The arrows immediately kill 11 of the 13 huntsmen and leave the other two wounded.

“Who filmed the video?” Whitstable asked.

“Good question,” said Depp, “we have no idea. The video was left at the scene after a mysterious phone call to local police.”

“Interesting,” Whitstable looked at the video again.

“With your investigation of the unusual and the preternatural, have you ever encountered such a phenomenon?” Depp asked, “A stag firing a crossbow with rapid fire arrows (faster than bullets) at a group of hunters?”.

“I’ve heard rumours of it,” said Whitstable, “and from a painting I once saw in the Vatican Archives that dates back to the 15th Century, I believe I know who the stag is.”

“A 15th Century painting in the Vatican Archives lets you know who this stag is?” Depp was incredulous.

“It’s Cernunnos the horned Celtic god of animals and the underworld,” Whitstable explained.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Thursday March 23rd
2017.

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Kim Jong-un and The Deity Behind The VX Nerve Agent

March 22, 2017 at 4:35 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, News, Vampire novel) (, , , , , )

U.S. President Donald Trump was hard at work in the Oval Office.

He was busy tweeting, “@realDonaldTrump Barack Obama not only wiretapped me. He also used drones to spray my hair and change my hair colour so people would think I’m wearing a toupee.”

An aide entered his office, “Mr. President, we’ve found out who’s been manufacturing VX nerve agent for Kim Jong-un. The same VX nerve agent that was used in the assassination of the despot’s half-brother Kim Jong-nam at Kuala Lumpur International Airport in Malaysia.”

President Trump responded, “This is probably a good thing that you’ve found out who’s responsible.”

Meanwhile at the Presidential Palace in Pyongyang, North Korea, KIm Jong-un addressed the Greek deity Hephaestus (known to the Ancient Romans as Vulcan), “Well, Heph baby… say I hope you don’t mind me calling you Heph… I rather like the name Hef… reminds me of Playboy bunnies for some reason… anyhow I just used the VX nerve agent you’ve been making for me to exterminate the incompetents who’ve been in charge of my missile development program. All these missile launch failures start to get embarrassing after a while. Leaves me with egg on my face. I’ve often killed my top chefs and waiters at the palace here for the same reason.”

“Heph is all right,” the Greek god of fire and the forge responded.

“Anyhow after I watched them die from my window while I was enjoying my breakfast of scrambled eggs and egg foo yung, the thought occurred to me maybe I should get you to forge my missiles for me,” Kim Jong-un smiled like a beatific Buddha.

“That can be arranged,” said Hephaestus, “but I’m going to need an awfully big forge.”

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Wednesday March 22nd
2017.

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