More of Renfield’s Hard Ball On Brexit

October 20, 2019 at 10:03 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, News, Politics, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , )

More of Renfield’s Hard Ball On Brexit

British MP Renfield R. Renfield was listening to BBC World News on the radio.

BBC Announcer: Meanwhile in Turkey, Turkish police are still looking for a beautiful Anglo-Indian woman who kicked Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan in the balls with her spiked stiletto high-heeled shoes this past Friday night…

Renfield smiled as he turned off the radio, “Glad to see Miranda delivered my message to Erdogan.”

“Undoubtedly a lot more effective than a singing telegram,” Amadeus Emanon had to admit, “so what have you got planned further in terms of domestic politics now that the international front has been covered?”.

“Well, of course, Conservative MP Sir Oliver Letwin has to be punished for bringing in that amendment in the Commons yesterday to withhold approval of the Johnson-Renfield Brexit deal until all the necessary legislation to implement it has been passed and to force the Prime Minister to write a letter to the EU requesting an extension to Brexit beyond the current October 31st deadline under the terms of the so-called Benn Act,” Renfield brought his Halloween vampire costume fangs out and put them in his mouth.

“Did Johnson send the letter?” Amadeus asked.

“He did,” Renfield nodded, “albeit without his signature. At my suggestion of course. He then sent a second letter- this one signed- explaining to the EU why he believed a Brexit delay beyond October 31st would be a mistake. Of course some bozo in the Opposition parties will probably take the whole thing up with the cannabis filled haggis eating Justices on the Scottish High Court claiming that Johnson violated the Benn Act.”

“I can see that happening,” Amadeus agreed.

“Am I the only one,” Renfield struck a freedom fighter pose, “who is able to see the fact that if the British Parliament can pass a law forcing the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom to write a letter against his will, they could pass a law forcing any British subject to write a letter against their will?”.

“You’re the only one who can see that,” Amadeus noted.

“Well, thank God I’m in Parliament then,” Renfield made the Sign of the Cross causing his vampire fangs to pop out.

“What have you got planned for Sir Oliver Letwin?” Amadeus asked.

“A double whammy,” Renfield smiled, “or should I say a triple whammy? Mulligan the Irish zombie will be singing outside Sir Oliver’s residence tonight songs from a never performed musical inspired by the incomprehensible prose to be found in Karl Marx’s lengthy and long winded tome Das Kapital. He will be accompanied by Pan Goatee’s younger brother the infamous kilt wearing Scottish satyr bagpiper Pan Deux playing the bagpipes as well as a loud speaker played recording of the moans and groans made by U.S. House Speaker Nancy Pelosi while using a vibrator she confiscated from Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez.”

Sir Oliver Letwin would undoubtedly think twice about trying to cross Renfield R. Renfield.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Sunday October 20th


  1. David Redpath said,

    Chris, I’m certain that I saw Pan
    Deux performing at the Edinburgh
    Tattoo. He was playing ‘Scotland
    the Brave, ‘ on bagpipes, whilst
    dancing a jig with his cloven hoofs
    over a portrait of the English King Edward I. The infamous Edward
    “Longshanks” who had William
    Wallace executed, also known as
    Malleus Scotorum (Hammer of
    Scotland). In accordance with
    tradition, Pan Deux was wearing
    nothing under his kilt, The end
    result, so to speak, was a fulsome
    hairy satyr scrotum salute to the
    so called Malleus Scotorum!
    The rather parochial crowd went wild
    with patriotic appreciation 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿 😎

    • Dracul Van Helsing said,

      Yes, that would be the very same Pan Deux. 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿😎

      • David Redpath said,

        Celts and Saxons

        We hate the Saxon and the Dane,
        We hate the Norman men-
        We cursed their greed for blood and gain,
        We curse them now again.
        Yet start not, Irish-born man!
        If you’re to Ireland true,
        We heed not blood, nor creed, nor clan
        We have no curse for you.

        We have no curse for you or yours,
        But Friendship’s ready grasp,
        And Faith to stand by you and yours
        Unto our latest gasp-
        To stand by you against all foes,
        Howe’er, or whence they come,
        With traitor arts, or bribes, or blows,
        From England, France, or Rome.

        What matter that at different shrines
        We pray unto one God?
        What matter that at different times
        Your fathers won this sod?
        In fortune and in name we’re bound
        By stronger links than steel;
        And neither can be safe nor sound
        But in the other’s weal.

        As Nubian rocks, and Ethiop sand
        Long drifting down the Nile,
        Built up old Egypt’s fertile land
        For many a hundred mile,
        So Pagan clans to Ireland came,
        And clans of Christendom,
        Yet joined their wisdom and their fame
        To build a nation from.

        Here came the brown Phoenician,
        The man of trade and toil-
        Here came the proud Milesian,
        A hungering for spoil;
        And the Firbolg and the Cymry,
        And the hard, enduring Dane,
        And the iron Lords of Normandy,
        With the Saxons in their train.

        And oh! it were a gallant deed
        To show before mankind,
        How every race and every creed
        Might be by love combined-
        Might be combined, yet not forget
        The fountains whence they rose,
        As, filled by many a rivulet,
        The stately Shannon flows.

        Nor would we wreak our ancient feud
        On Belgian or on Dane,
        Nor visit in a hostile mood
        The hearths of Gaul or Spain;
        But long as on our country lies
        The Anglo-Norman yoke,
        Their tyranny we’ll stigmatize,
        And God’s revenge invoke.

        We do not hate, we never cursed,
        Nor spoke a foeman’s word
        Against a man in Ireland nursed,
        Howe’er we thought he erred;
        So start not, Irish-born man,
        If you’re to Ireland true,
        We heed not race, nor creed, nor clan,
        We’ve hearts and hands for you.

        Thomas Davis

      • Dracul Van Helsing said,

        That is a great poem by Thomas Davis.

        I’m proud to say my maternal grandfather was Irish.

      • David Redpath said,

        From a proud Caladonian
        to a proud Hibernian …
        Scots Wha Hae ⚔️

      • Dracul Van Helsing said,

        Indeed, Scots Wha Hae. ⚔

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