Brazil’s Jair Bolsonaro Solves The Mystery of The Amazon Rainforest Fires
Brazil’s Jair Bolsonaro Solves The Mystery of the Amazon Rainforest Fires
Brazil’s President Jair Bolsonaro managed to get a copy of the incomplete report that London private eyes Agathor Christie and Magog Rhys Petley had given to Lev Tomi the Secretary-General of the UN Secretariat On The Environment and Climate Change on who was responsible for setting the Amazon Rainforest fires back in the summer.
Christie and Petley were frightened by the creatures, gods and goddesses and other supernatural beings they encountered in the Amazon Rainforest so they eventually gave up on their investigation.
But that still didn’t stop them from charging a huge exorbitant fee to Tomi for their incomplete services.
Bolsonaro had called a press conference to reveal who was responsible for setting the fires without bothering to read the incomplete report.
Now that he had read it, Bolsonaro realized that he was up Shit Creek without a paddle.
He helped himself to another jar of those delicious Uncle Ernie’s Australian Fruit Gummy Bears that his good friend Donald Trump had sent him and downed several handfuls.
As he reflected, he suddenly recalled a name that his wife Michelle had called out in her sleep last night, “Leonardo.”
Furious, Bolsonaro walked out into the hall, faced the press and accused Hollywood actor Leonardo DiCaprio of “giving money to set the Amazon on fire”.
Foamed Bolsonaro, “This Leonardo DiCaprio is a cool guy, right? Giving money to torch the Amazon.”
. . .
The Norse trickster god Loki watched the Jair Bolsonaro press conference on television.
The idiotic pronouncement gave Loki an idea.
It would certainly make for a wonderful joke if the phantasm that was the spectral ghost ship of the R.M.S. Titanic suddenly made an appearance on the Amazon River.
To do that, he went to see Hades the Greek god of the Underworld to see if the plutocrat would grant a temporary dispensation to the phantasmal shade that was the spectral ghost form of the R.M.S. Titanic to sail down the Amazon River.
Hades granted Loki the request and soon reports of the spectre of the ghostly form of the R.M.S. Titanic going down the Amazon River were being reported and shared on social media.
As Loki walked back chuckling from Hades’ throne room, he walked past a room in Hades’ palace where the ghost of Leonardo da Vinci the famous Renaissance artist, scientist and inventor was boasting to the ghost of one of the Medicis that he had recently paid a nocturnal spectral visit to Michelle Bolsonaro the wife of the current Brazilian President.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday November 30th
2019.
Shakespeare Said It Best: All’s Well That Ends Well
Shakespeare Said It Best: All’s Well That Ends Well
“I wonder why Trump spent Thanksgiving in Afghanistan?” Amadeus asked his friend British MP Renfield R. Renfield.
“It was apparently decided at a meeting of the U.S. National Security Council this past Wednesday night,” Renfield explained, “They thought it would be safer for Trump to be in Afghanistan than for him to be dropping turkeys from a dirigible on to the heads of innocent passers-by who were visiting the Lincoln Memorial.”
“Why would hurling turkeys from a dirigible be a problem?” Amadeus asked as he ate his turkey sandwich and drank his Ocean Spray Cranberry Cocktail.
“You do know turkeys can’t fly, don’t you?” Renfield with a raised eyebrow asked Amadeus.
“They can’t?” Amadeus stopped eating his turkey sandwich momentarily.
“No,” Renfield snarled.
“Oh,” Amadeus answered with his usual brilliant grasp of the situation that would have sent legendary detective Sherlock Holmes hurling himself in exasperation from the 2nd floor window of 221B Baker Street had Amadeus lived with Holmes rather than Watson.
Renfield’s smart phone went off.
The MP talked and then said, “That’s very good news, Dr. Rocher. Thanks for calling.”
“What was Dr. Cadbury Rocher phoning about?” Amadeus asked as he spilled Cranberry Cocktail all over his white shirt.
“Dr. Rocher has been talking to a Sydney Australia based billionaire named Inn Lu the past week,” Renfield said, “According to Inn Lu, yesterday was an auspicious time mathematically speaking for time travellers to travel back in time and time travel back to Xinjiang China a few months ago and save the pot smoking desert cactus plant Strawberry Fields Forever from being murdered on Xi Jinping’s orders. Unfortunately our two volunteer time travellers the Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec and Dracul Van Helsing couldn’t use the Large Hadron Collider in Switzerland because that’s currently undergoing maintenance repairs as a result of the Hindu god Shiva taking disco dance lessons in the tunnel from John Travolta while William Shatner and those members of the Bee Gees who are still alive sang Saturday Night Fever songs backwards. Fortunately Set Enterprises owns a small working time tunnel in the Austrian Alps – the same locale used in the filming of The Sound of Music where ice glaciers and snow fields melted at the melodious voice of Julie Andrews as Maria dancing in the meadows. Dracul and Qonzilqointec had taken a small cactus from the Joshua Tree National Park north of Palm Springs California and substituted it for Strawberry Fields Forever in his holding cell in the re-education camp for transgendered Uighurs in Xinjiang only hours after the pot smoking cactus had told his PRC captors “Better dead than red” and Xi Jinping had given the orders for Strawberry Fields Forever’s wish to come true. So it was actually a Palm Springs north socialite cactus who was butchered by Mei-ling Manchu while Ho Babylon Minh video recorded it for Justin Trudeau. Strawberry Fields Forever is now back in the present and currently alive and well while a slice of a wealthy Palm Springs north socialite cactus is now in the possession of Xi Jinping’s gardener.”
“That’s wonderful news,” Amadeus took off his cranberry cocktail laced white shirt just as the matronly middle aged woman who ran the Tewkesbury Bed and Breakfast entered the room.
The sight of Amadeus with his shirt off caused the woman to swoon like a school girl and buckle at the knees and then collapse on to the floor.
“Now look what you’ve done!” Renfield cried out to Amadeus.
“Does this mean we’re not going to get scones and biscuits for high tea?” Amadeus asked.
Meanwhile a Set Enterprises pterodactyl drone flew to Australia to deliver the news to the pot smoking cacti twins Material Girl and Mellow Yellow that their father Strawberry Fields Forever was in fact still alive.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday November 29th
2019.
Birthday
Birthday
His birthday fell on U.S. Thanksgiving this year.
And he was Canadian.
So his birthday would be being marked south of the border.
Rita Hayworth was his favourite actress.
Although he had daydreamed about her, she had never appeared in any of his dreams as he slept.
Possibly the new year of his life was off to a good start as he had dreamed about her in the early morning.
In his dream, he had been a detective.
And he had been called in with his cousins to solve a mystery of a rock music band who had mysteriously disappeared on his uncle’s farm.
And Rita Hayworth was his assistant who helped him solve the mystery.
Or at least he assumed he had solved the mystery.
He woke up just as he dreamed he was kissing her.
But still that was off to a good start.
Usually he always woke up before he got the chance to kiss any beautiful woman who appeared in his dream.
He walked outside to shovel the snow.
As a great deal of snow had fallen over night.
As he walked down the steps of the house where he rented a basement room, he noticed rabbit tracks in the snow around the front yard.
That was always a good sign for a new year of life.
As rabbits always made him think of his father who had been born in the Chinese zodiac year of the Rabbit.
. . .
Xi Jinping the paramount leader of China wondered who this mysterious Mr. Inn Lu was in Sydney Australia who was hiding a PRC (People’s Republic of China) Ministry of State Security intelligence defector named Wang in one of his Sydney safe houses.
Wang defected with the help of another Ministry of State Security operative the Vietnamese vampiress Ho Babylon Minh (granddaughter of Vietnamese leader Ho Chi Minh).
Ho herself then went and defected to Taiwan.
Xi tried to get ahold of another Ministry of State Security official the vampiress Mei-ling Manchu to try to track down both defectors.
But she didn’t seem to be answering her Huawei smart phone.
. . .
“Well, Mei-ling,” British MP Renfield R. Renfield asked his vampiress friend from Beijing, “What have you come to tell me?”.
“Well,” Mei-ling licked her vampiress incisors with her tongue, “I’ve decided to overthrow China’s megalomaniac totalitarian despot Xi Jinping and make myself Empress of China.”
“An excellent idea,” Renfield sipped his brandy, “what can I do to help?”.
. . .
Inside a time tunnel in a mountain hideout, the Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec was about to set out with her companion:
“Well, Dracul,” she asked Van Helsing, “are you ready to begin our mission?”.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Thursday November 28th
2019.
Part 2 Mr. Inn Lu: International Man of Mystery
Part 2 Mr. Inn Lu: International Man of Mystery
The reclusive Sydney Australia billionaire Mr. Inn Lu was being interviewed by a reporter for America’s Sci-Fi Channel.
“Well, Mr. Lu,” the reporter said, “I don’t know if our audience will believe that you are in fact a time traveler who was once a scientist, inventor and palace court official serving a Ming Dynasty Emperor in Beijing who got caught up in a time warp brought about when scientists at the CERN Large Hadron Collider in Switzerland had one too many martinis on the job before they started firing up the old inter-dimensional time tunnel and you suddenly found yourself in Sydney Australia in the year 1900. Or that you had developed a potion of immortality before you got caught in the time warp. But the story should be right up their Sci-Fi alley.”
“Always glad to help people find what’s up their alley,” Mr. Inn Lu smiled.
“And is your name really Inn Lu?” The reporter asked, “None of the professors of Medieval Chinese History we talked to found any record of a court official serving in a Ming Dynasty palace court who had the name Inn Lu.”
“My real name is a cosmic top secret,” Mr. Inn Lu continued to smile, “I have not told any Australian Security Intelligence Organization (ASIO) official what my real name is. Otherwise the whole world would know my real name by the next morning since ASIO operatives are such blabber mouths.”
“So how did you get the name Inn Lu?” The Sci-Fi Channel Reporter asked.
“Well when I suddenly found myself transported through time and place from the Ming Dynasty palace court in Beijing to Sydney Australia in the year 1900,” Inn Lu explained, “the first place I wound up was in a washroom in a beer parlour in Sydney. The first person who came through the washroom door at the time I made my cosmic arrival was someone whose name I later discovered was Goliath Rougechemin. When he saw me dressed in my resplendent Ming Dynasty court robes standing in the midst of the beer parlour washroom, he said to me, “How did a person like you come to be in the loo?”. Since I didn’t know English at the time, the only words I caught was “in” and “loo”. That suddenly became my name although I changed it to Inn Lu.”
“And we understand that the recent PRC Ministry of State Security official who defected from Communist China to Australia is hiding in one of your safe houses? The intelligence operative code named Wang Ho?” The Sci-Fi Channel reporter asked.
“That’s right,” Inn Lu nodded, “Although his code name was recently changed from Wang Ho to Wang Chung “for security reasons” or so the memo said. Actually the whole thing was supposed to be a top secret operation although ASIO operatives have been blabbing about the whole operation in the Comments sections of WordPress blogs all over the world so it isn’t so top secret anymore.”
“Well, we thank you for granting us this interview,” the Sci-Fi reporter smiled.
“Always a pleasure talking to members of the Press,” Inn Lu smiled back.
Inn Lu’s Samsung Galaxy smart phone went off.
A text message.
“Should I go?” The reporter asked, “Is the message top secret?”.
“Oh no,” Inn Lu shook his head, “It’s from a friend of mine. A rather eccentric character who calls himself Uncle Ernie. He’s worried because it suddenly occurred to him that a package of his special fruit gummy bears he sent out containing his 72 special and secret ingredients he might have inadvertently mailed to the wrong address. He may have sent it to the person’s place of work rather than his home address.”
. . .
Donald Trump entered the Oval Office of the White House.
He suddenly noticed something on his desk that he didn’t recall seeing before.
“Hm,” said Trump who just loved grabbing things, “Nice of one of my secret service agents to leave this bag of gummy bears lying around.”
Trump started eating the gummy bears.
Half an hour later, one of the Secret Service agents entered the Oval Office just as the Donald was standing on top of his desk flapping his arms as if they were bird’s wings and shouting, “Woo! Hoo! I can fly!”.
“Um… Mr. President?” Said the Secret Service agent, “Did you happen to see a bag of fruit gummy bears lying around? I accidentally left them behind.”
“They were on my desk,” the Donald smiled, “I ate them all.”
The Donald starts to sing in Stanley Holloway Alfred P. Doolittle fashion from My Fair Lady, “I’m getting impeached in the morning. Ding! Dong! The bells are going to chime! …. Pull out the stopper! Let’s have a whopper! But get me to the House on time!”.
“Um… Mr. President?” The Secret Service agent pointed outside the Oval Office window, “What’s a large dirigible airship doing landing on the White House lawn?”.
“I ordered it,” the Donald replied, “as part of an impromptu Thanksgiving Day parade in Washington DC tomorrow. I’m going to fly in it along with a whole bunch of turkeys tomorrow. Then 50 feet above the Lincoln Memorial, the turkeys and I will jump out of the dirigible and fly towards the ground.”
The Secret Service agent held in his hands an old magazine from the 1980s (he had been visiting a dentist’s office that afternoon).
And in the magazine was an interview with Donald Trump who said that one of his favourite TV shows of all time was WKRP In Cincinnati.
He told the magazine interviewer that he had watched every single episode of WKRP In Cincinnati except one.
The secret service agent said to himself, “What the Democrats so far have failed to do, missing a single episode of WKRP In Cincinnati may succeed.”
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Wednesday November 27th
2019.
Dwight Ball Gets A Cream Pie In The Face While Renfield Discusses Pope Francis’ Agony
Dwight Ball Gets A Cream Pie In The Face While Renfield Discusses Pope Francis’ Agony
Set Enterprises’ secret agent Harvey Tallbanger an invisible 6 foot 8 tall Welsh pooka bunny rabbit who was also a good friend of noted Albertan and Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing had been visiting Canada quite a bit recently.
He had thrown a cream pie in Prime Minister Justin Trudeau’s face on Election Night when Justin had rudely interrupted Opposition Conservative Party leader Andrew Scheer’s televised concession speech by starting his own victory speech 38 seconds into Scheer’s concession speech.
Sometime later Harvey Tallbanger had thrown a cream pie into the face of Bloc Québécois asshole and separatist leader Yves-Francois Blanchet who said that western Canadian alienation was of no concern to him and the people of Alberta and Saskatchewan could go drown in their oil.
Later Tallbanger had thrown cream pies into the faces of Green Party Parliamentary leader Elizabeth May and former Progressive Conservative Prime Minister Kim Campbell for making air headed statements in television interviews.
He had also thrown a cream pie into the face of Vancouver Mayor Kennedy Stewart who said that there was no such thing as Western Canadian alienation – only Canadian Prairie province alienation (which was probably true) because pot smoking lower mainland British Columbians shared so much in common with the pot smoking Federal Liberal Party in Ottawa (also true).
Kennedy Stewart got a cream pie in his face from Harvey for sharing the same opinion of Albertans as the Bloc Québécois asshole leader.
Not to be outdone by the same coterie of airheads and assholes as those previously mentioned, Newfoundland and Labrador Liberal Premier Dwight Ball met with Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau and said that overcoming Canadian prairie province alienation shouldn’t be regarded as being a high priority on the Canadian national agenda.
After the meeting, Mr. Ball got a cream pie in his face from Harvey Tallbanger.
He also received a raspberry from Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster of Great Britain who did not think much of Newfoundland and Labrador’s lobster industry.
. . .
Donald Trump was sitting at his Oval Office desk when he was informed by one of his aides that the man he was planning to name as his National Security Council head next week (after firing the current NSC head in a Twitter tweet next week) – Mr. Eichmann Himmler the ICE agent extraordinaire (that was Trump’s description) had been eaten by crocodiles in a hotel swimming pool in Sydney, Australia.
“Bugger!” Trump threw aside a fountain pen that had once been given him by the recently laicized former Cardinal Theodore McCarrick.
“A group of U.S. Navy SEALS have entered the pool to try and recover what’s left of him,” the aide informed Trump and then left.
Trump picked up the phone and dialled a number, “Hello, Ivanka? You know how to use an encyclopedia for research don’t you? That’s great. Because I don’t. Listen, I want you to go to the encyclopedia and dig up whatever dirt you can find on crocodiles because I want to write a nasty tweet about them.”
. . .
Amadeus Emanon visited his friend British MP Renfield R. Renfield who was campaigning for re-election in the constituency of Tewkesbury In The Cotswolds.
“Did you see that video of Pope Francis listening to the Bishop of Nagano Japan playing the guitar at a late 1960s and early 1970s style hippy hootenanny Mass that was held in the Jesuit Pope’s honour on his recent visit to Japan?” Renfield asked Amadeus.
“No, I didn’t,” Amadeus answered.
“You should have seen the intense expression of agony on Francis’ face when that guitar was being played,” Renfield laughed, “I imagine it will be 2nd only to the intense expression of agony he’ll have on his face when he finds out his destination on Judgement Day.”
“I wonder who taught the Bishop of Nagano Japan how to play guitar?” Amadeus mused aloud.
“It was apparently William Shatner,” Renfield replied.
“I didn’t know William Shatner knows how to play guitar,” Amadeus was shocked.
“Yes, he apparently learned how to play guitar by playing Bob Dylan songs backwards to try to detect evidence of Klingon backwards masking,” Renfield explained.
As the words of William Shatner reciting Bob Dylan’s Mr. Tambourine Man filtered through the neighbourhood, dogs howled, cats screeched and the scream of the turtle was heard throughout the land.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday November 26th
2019.
Inn Lu: International Man of Mystery
Inn Lu: International Man of Mystery
Recently a man claiming to be a intelligence agent for Communist China’s Ministry of State Security had gone to Australia and defected to ASIO (the Australian Security Intelligence Organization).
The man was given the code name Wang Ho (and claimed to have an explosive treasure trove of intelligence information including how Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau’s pet pot smoking cactus plant Strawberry Fields Forever was brutally murdered by Chinese State Security operatives in a re-education camp for transgendered Uighurs in the Xinjiang region of western China.
And how a portion of Strawberry Fields Forever’s body was given to paramount leader Xi Jinping’s personal gardener for examination, experimentation and analysis).
Wang Ho was kept for safe keeping in a safe house owned and operated by Mr. Inn Lu one of Sydney’s most mysterious and elusive businessmen.
The reason Wang Ho was given to Mr. Inn Lu was because many ASIO operatives were said to have a serious drinking problem and couldn’t be trusted to keep Wang Ho alive and safe while they were in the process of sleeping off their hangovers.
Not much was known about Inn Lu who was described by the Sydney Morning Herald as “mysterious and inscrutable” in 1931 (for their centennial edition).
If ASIO operatives (and most people in the Australian government) had been sober, they might have asked themselves why Inn Lu had never aged a day from the way he looked in that Sydney Morning Herald photograph from almost 90 years ago.
All that was known about Inn Lu was that he was a staunch anti-Communist and therefore could be trusted to keep the PRC Ministry of State Security defector alive.
Trouble was brewing for both Inn Lu and Wang Ho however in that Donald Trump had sent to Australia a U.S. ICE (Immigration and Customs Enforcement) agent named Eichmann Himmler who was to give ASIO operatives advice on how to deal with illegal immigrants.
Eichmann Himmler was the ICE agent responsible for setting up detention facilities for immigrants along the U.S.-Mexico border.
Locking fathers behind bars at one facility.
Locking mothers behind bars at another facility.
And locking children and babies behind bars at yet another facility.
Eichmann Himmler did not get off to a good start with ASIO operatives as he walked in on them halfway through their lunch hour (when almost all of them were currently working on their 30th bottle of beer).
The first thing Eichmann Himmler did was go after koala bears saying “These creatures are so damned cute, they’re obviously up to something.”
Every koala bear that Eichmann Himmler asked for their identification papers did not have them.
Thus father koalas were thrown into one facility.
Mother koalas were thrown into another facility.
And baby koalas were thrown into yet another.
“After all,” Eichmann Himmler lectured the snoozing in an alcoholic haze ASIO operatives, “how do we know these koala bears are resident Australians? How do we know they didn’t come from somewhere else?”.
Eichmann Himmler did the same with Eucalyptus trees (he became suspicious of the plant when they seemed to be the main diet of the koala bears).
He locked up Eucalyptus trees all over the nation of Australia bringing in botanists from all over the U.S. to determine the tree’s gender and age and then lock them up in the appropriate facility.
“After all,” Eichmann Himmler lectured the still snoozing in an alcoholic haze ASIO operatives, “how do we know these Eucalyptus trees are resident Australians? How do we know they didn’t come from somewhere else?”.
This was the sort of brilliant and profound mind that ICE agent Eichmann Himmler had.
The bet was on in Washington DC that the next time Trump fired a National Security Council head in one of his Twitter tweets, that it would probably be Eichmann Himmler who would be the next NSC head.
Now Eichmann Himmler took it upon himself to investigate the mysterious Mr. Inn Lu whom ASIO had handed PRC defector Wang Ho to for safekeeping.
“After all,” Eichmann Himmler told the room now empty of ASIO operatives since Happy Hour had now begun in all the Australian bars and lounges, “how do we know Mr. Inn Lu isn’t an illegal immigrant? After all, he’s Asian isn’t he? And we all know the United Kingdom that founded this great country is closer to Australia than Asia is.”
As Donald Trump in Washington DC fired off a tweet praising the intelligence and profound geographic knowledge of one ICE agent Eichmann Himmler, Himmler, after receiving a fax from DARPA, set off to confront Inn Lu.
In the Shangri-La Gardens Hotel (owned by Inn Lu) in downtown Sydney, Eichmann Himmler confronted the mysterious and reclusive businessman.
“I know who you are, Inn Lu,” Himmler said.
“Do you now?” Inn Lu’s eyes twinkled behind his spectacles.
“Yes, DARPA turned to Britain’s Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster for information about your background,” Eichmann Himmler wagged his finger at him, “you were apparently an important scientist, inventor and court official in the palace court of one of the Ming Emperors. While you were doing mathematical calculations about how to change the time-space continuum, the Large Hadron Collider in Switzerland was doing the exact same calculations in our own time. This created a time warp. You were sent to Australia in the year 1900 from the palace court in Ming Dynasty Beijing you were at. You also discovered a potion of immortality that you brought with you from that Ming Dynasty court. You have lived in Australia for over 119 years now but you never bothered to get citizenship. You have also been involved in espionage to get today’s descendants of the Ming Emperors to power in China. Hence the reason for your strong anti-Communism. I’m here to see you deported and sent back to China where you belong.”
“You’ve caught me, Comrade Eichmann,” Inn Lu smiled, “but you look rather hot. Why don’t you take a refreshing dip in our hotel pool? Plenty of time to deport me later.”
“Don’t mind if I do,” Eichmann Himmler took off his clothes and jumped in.
One of the hotel maintenance staff said to Mr. Inn Lu, “Mr. Lu, isn’t this the hour that the Sydney Crocodile Club rents the pool to give their crocodiles a home away from home?”.
“It is,” Mr. Inn Lu smiled, “I regret I forgot to tell Comrade Eichmann Himmler.”
“I want to see your identity papers,” Eichmann Himmler screamed at one of the crocodiles just before it bit his head off.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Monday November 25th
2019.
The Kraken Visits A Christmas Market
The Kraken Visits A Christmas Market
The Kraken who called himself Napoleon VI (because he hoped someday to become Emperor of France) and his wife Medusa (the ex-Gorgon) decided to head north across the border into Germany to visit one of the famous German Christmas markets.
They rented a one horse open sleigh for their journey.
As they journeyed north, the Kraken wearing red and white and a false white beard waved and said, “Ho, ho, ho” at all the passers-by.
“Mommy,” said one little girl, “I didn’t know Santa had 8 arms.”
“He has to in order to handle 8 reindeer,” her mother answered.
They soon came to a very beautiful Bavarian village with a Christmas market.
The Kraken exited the sleigh and posed for pictures with various people who were anxious to increase the likes on their Instagram accounts.
Medusa went shopping for candles and ornaments.
The Kraken then went over to a mulled wine stand and spent a great deal of time imbibing.
“Hic! Hic! Hic!” The Kraken said as he walked (or more accurately stumbled) his way towards the Christmas market central square to meet up with Medusa.
Playing at the gazebo bandstand in the Christmas market central square was the noted Norwegian jazz singer Olaf Fjordson.
His orchestra consisting of a jazz pianist, a jazz saxophonist, a jazz guitarist and a jazz violinist was behind him.
Olaf Fjordson and His Jazz Orchestra normally played the very popular wintertime jazz cafe Frozen North Orleans on the island of Spitsbergen, a jazz cafe that had been frequented by such notables as Orson Welles, Pablo Picasso, Howard Hughes and his biographer Clifford Irving.
They had been flown in from Spitsbergen to open the town’s Christmas market.
The jazz pianist was on stage trying to scrape the icicles off his piano keys.
The jazz saxophonist was holding his saxophone over an open fire as ice fell out of the mouthpiece.
The jazz guitarist was likewise scraping ice off his strings.
The jazz violinist was sitting on stage with his hands tied behind his back as his Australian Ernievarius violin (made out of winter tires) sat on his lap and therefore was not being played (for which the Christmas market crowds should be truly thankful).
As such, jazz singer Olaf Fjordson was currently singing a capella.
Sang Fjordson,
I feel it in my fingers
I feel it in my toes
Frostbite’s all around me
And so the feeling grows…
After singing this last line, Fjordson immediately started screaming his head off like a heavy metal singer in concert.
“That Fjordson seems to have an extensive range when it comes to varieties of musical genre,” the Kraken remarked to Medusa.
“He does indeed,” Medusa agreed.
The Kraken then checked his 8 Rolex watches and noticed that it was time for them to head off in the direction of Berlin where they were due for a midnight banquet with German Chancellor Angela Merkel.
As they left, they noticed a World War I Sopwith Camel (that had flown the jazz orchestra from Spitsbergen to the Bavarian village Christmas market) being de-iced along with the pilot – a beagle wearing a World War I flying ace’s cap and goggles.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Sunday November 24th
2019.
The Dance
The Dance
Our lives are better left to chance
I could have missed the pain
But I’d have to miss the dance.
-song by Garth Brooks
Peter came through the front door and his mother asked from the kitchen, “So, are you going to ask a girl to the Christmas dance next month?”.
“No,” said Peter angrily, “I don’t know how to dance.”
“But I thought you’ve been taking dance lessons in school the past few weeks,” his mother said.
“The class was full and I couldn’t get in,” Peter replied.
“Why didn’t you say something?” His mother inquired, “I could have paid to send you to private lessons at Madame Cotillard’s Dance Studio in town.”
“You know we can’t afford dance lessons,” Peter opened the door of his bedroom, entered and closed the door.
He’d have liked to ask Maria to the Christmas dance but he could just imagine making a fool of himself on the dance floor.
Peter looked over at his book shelf.
There was an old book on the shelf called Teach Yourself How To Dance.
A do-it-yourself book, Peter laughed, and yet the old saying was, It takes two to tango.
Despite that thought, he took the book off the shelf and opened it.
An old photo fell on to the floor.
Peter had never opened the book when he bought it at the rummage sale last year.
He just needed one more book for the 10 Books For 50c sale and grabbed that one.
He looked at the photo:
“Wow, I wouldn’t mind learning to dance with her,” Peter said.
He put the photo beside his bed.
After supper, he came back to his room and fell asleep.
When he awoke, the girl in the photo was standing in his bedroom.
“Who are you?” He asked.
“I’m Simone,” the girl answered, “and I’m here to teach you how to dance.”
Every night for the next 2 weeks, Simone appeared at the same time and taught Peter how to dance.
So Peter asked Maria to the dance.
And she accepted.
Maybe he would end up being made fun of for his dancing.
And being made fun of would bring him pain.
But it’s like Garth Brooks once said.
He could have missed the pain.
But he’d have to miss the dance.
-A short story
written by Christopher
Saturday November 23rd
2019.
Renfield’s TV Commercial For Enterprise Rent-A-Car
Renfield’s TV Commercial For Enterprise Rent-A-Car
Tonight’s candidates’ debate in the Tewkesbury In The Cotswolds constituency wasn’t really a formal debate.
It was more of a get to know the candidates’ night in which each candidate talked about their hobbies or their interests outside politics.
When it was Renfield’s turn to speak, he said his hobby was writing TV commercials.
Said Renfield, “I just wrote a commercial for a North American car rental company Enterprise Rent-A-Car which was filmed today and company executives are currently debating whether to air it on television.”
Amadeus Emanon (who was sitting in the audience) groaned.
He had had previous experience watching some of Renfield’s TV commercials.
“And now I would ask the hall technician to play the video,” Renfield grinned, “You’ll get a sneak peak of that TV commercial which will hopefully be shown in North America soon.”
The video played and it showed actor William Shatner as Captain James T. Kirk wearing the exact same Starfleet uniform that he probably wore in the original 1960s TV series Star Trek.
Clothes he had very much since outgrown.
“Hi,” said a smiling William Shatner, “I’m Captain James T. Kirk of the Starship Enterprise speaking to you on behalf of Enterprise Rent-A-Car. I’m filling in for my friend Patrick Warburton the usual Enterprise spokesman who’s come down with acute laryngitis ever since he won first place in a Greta Thunberg voice impersonation contest a few nights ago…”
Amadeus sank lower in his chair.
Captain Kirk walked among the cars at the Enterprise Rent-A-Car lot, “Whenever I visit Earth, I use Enterprise Rent-A-Car to get around.
I’ve been Captain of the Starship Enterprise for over 60 years now and I’ve been using Enterprise Rent-A-Car for almost as long. People keep telling me that I should have retired years ago and the way I no longer fit into this Starfleet uniform, perhaps they’re right. I seem to have gone well beyond middle aged paunch in terms of my weight…”
The button on Captain Kirk’s black pants burst and he’s forced to use one of his hands to hold it up.
“Yesterday I rented a car from Enterprise Rent-A-Car to drive to Ottawa where I received the Order of Canada from Canada’s Governor-General at Rideau Hall in Ottawa. Then I rented another car from Enterprise this morning to drive to Washington DC to meet with Donald Trump and tell him that the planet Xenuthalu had concluded its investigation and found no evidence of wrongdoing by Joe Biden or his son Hunter. So Trump, although disappointed, gave the order to no longer hold up nuclear arms sales to the planet. The missiles are now well on their way…”
Kirk looks at his Starship Enterprise smart phone, “Oh-oh. I just got a text message from Mr. Spock saying that the planet Xenuthalu has just signed an alliance treaty with the Klingons.”
Kirk drops the smart phone and bends over to pick it up.
A loud ripping sound from the back of his pants can be heard.
Kirk speaking into his smart phone communicator, “Quick. Beam me up, Scotty.”
Kirk is quickly beamed up just as the Rev. Pat Robertson gets out of one of the Enterprise vehicles.
Says Rev. Robertson, “Oh my God. The Rapture has just occurred. Why am I still here?”.
Robertson in a panic screams, “Why am I still here? You forgot about me, Lord. You forgot about me. Your most important, noble and humble servant you’ve left behind. You’ve forgot about me, Lord. You’ve forgot about me.”
Robertson continues to scream, “You forgot about me, Lord. You forgot about me” as the ad announcer says, “Enterprise Rent-A-Car. Choose your vehicle. Choose your destination.”
The commercial was a hit with Tewkesbury voters.
Not so much with Enterprise corporate executives in America.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday November 22nd
2019.
Benjamin Netanyahu, Spitsbergen and The Tewkesbury Debate
Benjamin Netanyahu, Spitsbergen and The Tewkesbury Debate
The debate being hosted tonight among candidates for MP for the constituency of Tewkesbury In The Cotswolds in the upcoming December 12th UK General Election was on the subject of Foreign Policy.
Renfield R. Renfield the current British Transhumanist Party MP for the Constituency as well as the current UK Deputy Foreign Secretary In Charge of Geopolitical Intelligence Gathering was asked a question by the reporter for the local Lux Cream and Bagel Chronicle on the matter of Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu today being formally charged by Israel’s Attorney-General with fraud, breach of trust and bribery.
Said the corned beef on rye eating reporter for the Lux Cream and Bagel Chronicle, “Mr. Netanyahu has described the charges as a “political witch hunt” and has said that the “authorities weren’t after the truth, they were after me” and has called on the country to “investigate the investigators”. Mr. Renfield, what is your take on that?”.
“Well,” Renfield finished off his 2nd 40 oz. bottle of Scotch whisky for the debate, “If I was Donald Trump’s lawyer Rudy Giuliani, I’d be advising the Donald to sue Netanyahu for plagiarism and expropriation of one’s favourite turn of phrase x 3.”
The next question came from the reporter for the local Undrained Swamp Times and was addressed to British Conservative candidate (and former Tewkesbury In The Cotswolds MP) Agathor Christie, “Mr. Christie, at today’s impeachment hearing in Washington DC, there seemed to be a conflict between Republican and Democrat as to which country most likely interfered in the 2016 U.S. Presidential election- Russia or Ukraine. Mr. Christie, who do you think it was that interfered in the U.S. election in 2016?”.
“Well,” Christie was eating a bag full of Christie’s Chocolate Chip Cookies, “I personally believe that it was the Norwegian island of Spitsbergen that was responsible for foreign interference in the 2016 U.S. Presidential election. The hacking was done at computers at a popular jazz cafe on the island of Spitsbergen. This jazz cafe in Spitsbergen was first mentioned in a documentary that Orson Welles made back in 1973. The very same jazz cafe that was noted artist Pablo Picasso’s favourite destination during the winter months of the year…”
Christie was unable to finish his answer because he then passed out on to the floor.
“Well,” Renfield thought to himself, “we now know who was responsible for stealing and smoking that 20 gram bag of Canadian cannabis from Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster’s aquarium.”
There suddenly seemed to be a commotion in the meeting hall.
Renfield wondered whether an assassination attempt was about to happen.
Prior to the debate, Sherrielock Holmes the Chief of Security for Set Enterprises had informed Renfield that 3 different assassination teams would be after him tonight.
Russian President Vladimir Putin had sent an FSB assassination squad to bump Renfield off.
Donald Trump had sent a combined Israeli Mossad and Saudi Arabian hit squad (namely because he couldn’t trust U.S. deep state agency operatives to do his bidding) to bump Renfield off.
Pope Francis had sent a Jesuit hit squad to bump Renfield off.
Thus the meeting hall was stacked with Set Enterprises’ operatives and intelligence agents friendly to Renfield.
There was Set Enterprises secret agents Miranda Singh and Harvey Tallbanger, Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing and South African intelligence operative Lepardia Marango.
South African intelligence operative Lepardia Marango: Backstage at the Tewkesbury constituency debate on Foreign Policy.
The four Renfield allied intelligence operatives moved quickly into action.
The light switches were hit.
The hall went dark.
And the 3 different assassination hit squad members ended up shooting and killing one another.
Renfield then invited his 4 intelligence operatives friends back to his B and B for late night tea and crumpets.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Thursday November 21st
2019.
Dracul Van Helsing 
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