Sherrielock Holmes vs. Jack The Ripper: A Poem

June 11, 2017 at 3:42 pm (Crime, Culture, Detective story, History, Horror, Literature, Mystery, Mystery/horror, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , )

It was London in the year 1888
a place and a year of great ill-fate
in which ladies of the night in the streets of London
were approached by an evil man and done in.

He wore black hat and cloak, black gloves and cane
he was Jekyll’s Hyde come to life in an evil reign
and Sherlock Holmes was naturally called in to solve the case
as Scotland Yard’s Inspector Lestrade was tired of losing face

But even the great Sherlock Holmes could not catch the Ripper
instead Sherlock ended up ripping his pants and breaking his zipper
and he hurried back to 221B Baker Street in shame
said he to Watson, “In no article, mention my name.”

And Sherlock’s little known twin sister Sherrielock heard of her brother’s failure
as well as the Great Detective’s little known nocturnal flight to London tailor
Now Sherrielock was a brothel owning dominatrix by trade
one who always managed to avoid a Scotland Yard raid

Said she, I’ll capture the Ripper and put an end to his Reign of Terror
I”ll do what no one else in London has dreamed to dare
and I’ll do it keeping in place my shampooed hair

So she put on her undercover dominatrix outfit and walked the East End’s Whitechapel streets
Sherrielock Holmes
and she heard in the approaching distance the sound of fancy carriage horses’ hoof beats

A tall dark stranger dressed entirely in black
exited the cab saying, “Just call me Jack”.
“I’ll certainly do that, Jack dear,
if you let me whip your rear”
said Sherrielock pulling out a cat o’ nine tails
and before Jack knew it, he got a fist full of nails.

He was down on the ground, his pants all around
his buttocks were turning a fiery red
his ass no longer filled with Plutonian lead

But by the time the night was over, Jack The Ripper was no more
his ass had positively melted on London’s paved cobblestone floor
Scotland Yard never revealed how the Ripper had died
what was the successful antidote to this Jekyll’s poisoned Hyde.
But the cause was really rather simple in the end
a bright spot on a black and blue covered rear end
Food poisoning had done in the Ripper under dominatrix’s nylon runs
Food poisoning brought on by red tomatoed buns.

-A Sherrielock Holmes poem
written by Christopher
Sunday June 11th
2017.

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To Kill A Vampiress

May 27, 2017 at 3:39 pm (Detective story, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , )

The year was 1933.

And Canadian vampire hunter Joseph Van Helsing was in Mexico City.

He was a son of the Dutch physician Dr. Abraham Van Helsing who had slain Count Dracula.

Joseph had been born in England.

His father had settled there after investigating the Dracula-inspired deaths in England and later slaying Dracula in Transylvania.

Joseph had come over to Canada on a cattle ship back in 1912 (that same cattle ship would later be used to transport Canada’s famous World War I flying ace Billy Bishop over to war in Europe).

His wife Hilda (7 years his younger) had come to Canada in 1905 as a little girl.

She too had crossed the Atlantic on a famous ship- The Carpathia.

In 1912, The Carpathia became world famous for having been the sole ship in the North Atlantic to answer the distress call of a ship that had just hit an iceberg and was sinking- the RMS Titanic.

Joseph found it ironic that his wife had sailed to Canada on The Carpathia given that his father Abraham had slain the Carpathian Mountains’ most famous resident Count Dracula.

Joseph reflected on all this as he walked the streets of Mexico City.

He was here to slay a vampiress- an Aztec princess who had been born back in the 1400s.

The Mexican government had recently become concerned about the number of bloodless victims showing up on the streets of Mexico City.

It was bad for tourism.

So they had hired Joseph Van Helsing to slay the vampiress.

Having killed all the Mexican vampire hunters in the last government persecution of the Catholic Church in Mexico during the Cristero War of the late 1920s.

Joseph Van Helsing entered the apartment building where the Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec resided.

He entered the living room and then he saw her.
Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec

He did not know that vampiresses could cast a reflection.

And what a beautiful reflection it was.

Almost as beautiful as the original.

He turned to leave.

“Wait,” she whispered, “Stay with me and be my love.”

“I can’t,” said Joseph, “I’m married.”

“Oh,” Qonzilqointec sighed, “maybe someday one of your descendants will.”

Joseph left and walked out into the night.

84 years later, Dracul Van Helsing walked out of the night and into his apartment.

He checked his phone messages.

“Call me,” a woman’s voice said seductively on one of the messages.

It was the voice of the Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday May 27th
2017.

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Renfield’s Dream of Hercule Poirot

May 4, 2017 at 4:12 pm (Arts, books, Detective story, Literature, Movies, Mystery, Politics, Vampire novel) (, , , , )

Renfield R. Renfield was lying in his bed in the John Milton Blue Room (where John Milton and his daughter Anne once stayed) in a Bed and Breakfast in the town of Tewkesbury in Gloucestershire, England.

Renfield was running as a British Transhumanist Techno-Progressive Anti Bio-Conservative Party candidate in the constituency of Tewkesbury In The Cotswolds.

He was running against sitting incumbent British Conservative MP Agathor Christie (who was a great nephew by marriage of the famous British mystery writer Agatha Christie).

Renfield would soon be involved in a campaign debate against Mr. Agathor Christie.

As such, Renfield fell asleep dreaming about Agatha Christie’s famous Belgian detective sleuth character Hercule Poirot.

Hercule Poirot was staying in a huge mansion on a large English country estate.

Hercule and 24 other guests were enjoying a huge dinner party (Monsieur Poirot would have given Renfield’s friend Amadeus Emanon a run for his money about who was able to eat the most).

After the dinner, most of the other guests had retired to their rooms for this evening.

Hercule himself was in the drawing room enjoying a cigar and a glass of port.

Suddenly a gunshot was heard coming from upstairs.

Followed by a woman’s scream.

The butler entered the drawing room, “Sorry to disturb, sir, but it appears that His Lordship has been murdered.”

“Damn,” Poirot remarked.

He was really starting to enjoy his port and his cigar and the comfort of his easy chair.

Reluctantly the Belgian detective made his way upstairs to the crime scene.

“Wait,” Monsieur Poirot in his thick francophonic sounding Belgian accent instructed the guests as he entered the room, “please, touch nothing.”

Hercule Poirot
“Wait, please touch nothing.”

It was a little late for such instructions.

One guest was already examining the murder victim’s head. Another was holding and examining the victim’s right arm. Guest #3 was holding and examining the victim’s left arm. Guest #4 was holding and examining the victim’s right leg. Guest #5 was examining and holding the victim’s left leg. Guest #6 (whom ladies at the dinner party referred to as “the trollop in the little red dress”) was undoing the victim’s zipper on his pants with her mouth.

Guest #7 had picked up and examined the revolver lying on the floor. Guest #8 had picked up and examined the bloodied knife lying on the coffee table. The French maid was examining the open bottle of pills on the bedroom dresser. Guest #9 was examining the open bottle of poison in the medicine cabinet.

Guest #10 had poured himself a glass of water from the pitcher of water on the reading lamp table and promptly keeled over dead after drinking it.

Guest #11 was examining the hangman’s noose hanging from the ceiling. Guest #12 was examining the bloodied chainsaw lying on the bloodied carpet by the desk. Guest #13 was under a ladder trying to retrieve a black cat that was behind the ladder.

Guest #14 was examining a bloodied samurai sword on the desk. Guest #15 was examining a pair of bloodied candlesticks by the fireplace.

And Guests #16 to 23 were examining, handling and imbibing the bottles that were the contents of His Lordship’s private liquor cabinet.

Then Renfield woke up.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Thursday May 4th
2017.

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Saint George’s Day 2017

April 23, 2017 at 3:45 pm (Detective story, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, International Intrigue, Literature, Mythology, News, Politics, Romance, Vampire novel) (, , , )

Saint George and The Dragon

South African cultural attache Lepardia Marango and British Conservative MP Agathor Christie had gone to morning services at Saint George’s Anglican Church in Hanover Square in the city of Westminster, central London to celebrate Saint George’s Day since Saint George is the patron Saint of England.

Afterwards they went to have brunch together in a nearby pub.

Sitting across from them was Renfield R. Renfield in disguise.

Renfield was wearing dark sunglasses, a Scottish kilt with sporran, a t-shirt that said I AM WILLIAM WALLACE and was carrying bagpipes at his side.

“So, Agathor,” Lepardia adjusted her dark navy blue skirt, “you’re the great nephew of British mystery novelist Agatha Christie?”.

“Yes, but only by marriage,” Agathor Christie confessed, “not by blood unfortunately. I’m the great nephew of her cad first husband Archibald Christie whom she divorced in 1928 after he had an extramarital affair with one Nancy Neele (whom he married after his divorcing Agatha).”

“What about your name Agathor?” Lepardia asked, “Were you named after your great aunt by marriage Agatha Christie and given the masculine name Agathor?”.

“Um… actually no I wasn’t,” Agathor sipped his orange juice.

“Were you named after the character in Tolkien then?” Lepardia poured herself some tea.

“No, not him either,” Agathor blushed.

“Then who were you named after?” Lepardia looked at him quizzically.

“Well,” Agathor felt himself turning as red as the fried tomatoes on his plate, “My full Christian name… if you can call it a Christian name… is Agamemnon Thor… I’m Agamemnon Thor Christie. I was named Agamemnon because my father was a Greek mythology buff. And I was given the middle name Thor because my mother is a Norse mythology buff. In school because the kids made fun of the name Agamemnon, I shortened my name to Agathor for short (a shortened form of Agamemnon Thor) because Tolkien is always cool for every generation of kids.”

“I see,” Lepardia smiled and laughed, “And do you have any conditions for marriage?”.

“Well,” Agathor’s face was now turning as red as a Communist who had fallen into a giant bottle of ketchup, “I don’t intend to marry any woman called Clytemnestra.”

“Well, my name isn”t Clytemnestra,” Lepardia Marango who had a good classical education laughed heartedly.

Renfield R. Renfield (who did not have much of a classical education) did not.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Sunday April 23rd
2017.

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NASA, The Zohar and The Seven-Planet Star System

March 6, 2017 at 3:41 pm (Detective story, Geopolitics and International Relations, Horror, International Intrigue, Mystery, Mystery/horror, Religion, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , )

The Mossad agent they called The Controller of the Golem was back in Jerusalem.

He had spent months recovering in a private London hospital (connected to Set Enterprises) after he had been poisoned with Polonium-210 given him by the ancient Babylonian vampiress Lilith.

Now he was reading a report that a group of fanatically inclined Kabbalistic Jews were intending to blow up the Dome on the Rock and the Mosque of Omar and replace it with a Third Jewish Temple.

What was bringing about the action was NASA’s discovery of a 7-planet star system with its Spitzer space telescope.

The dwarf star called Trappist-1 (39 light years away from Earth) had 7 planets orbiting it.

The trouble was that the Zohar (the foundational work of Jewish mysticism) predicted the appearance of a star with seven “stars” orbiting it prior to the arrival of the Messiah…

… a star will rise up in the East, blazing in all colours, and seven other stars will surround that star. And they will wage war on it.

Now one sect was convinced that NASA’s announcement was proof of this star system predicted in the Zohar.

The Messiah wouldn’t be far behind.

Well, the Controller sighed, he didn’t know about the Messiah but he had the feeling Hell on Earth was just around the corner.

Lilith The Vampiress

Lilith: One glass of Polonium-210 this day
will send the coroner heading your way

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Monday March 6th
2017.

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Sherlock Holmes and The Zohar

March 5, 2017 at 4:47 pm (Detective story, Geopolitics and International Relations, Horror, International Intrigue, Mystery, Mystery/horror, Religion, The Supernatural) (, , , , , , , )

Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster was having a dream about Basil Rathbone as Sherlock Holmes and Nigel Bruce as Dr. Watson. In the dream, Holmes said to Watson:

Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson

According to the Zohar the foundational text of Jewish mysticism, Watson, a seven-star system similar to our own will be discovered and then all Hell shall break loose.

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Hecate In The Vatican

March 2, 2017 at 7:43 pm (Detective story, Geopolitics and International Relations, Horror, International Intrigue, Mystery, Mystery/horror, Mythology, News, Religion, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , , )

Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing and Peter Whitstable the Fox Mulder of Interpol were busy walking the halls of the Vatican.

Unofficially of course.

Since Dracul Van Helsing had been banned from the Vatican for calling German Cardinal Walter Kasper a heretic (even though he is one!).

Dracul Van Helsing had written a Monty Python Lumberjack Song style script in which Cardinal Kasper had gone around singing, “Oh, I’m a heretic and I’m okay.”

Cardinal Kasper was not amused.

And neither was his boss Pope Francis.

Van Helsing and Whitstable were in the Vatican because they had been informed by sources in the know that Hecate the Greek goddess of witchcraft, necromancy and sorcery had been seen wandering the halls of the Vatican.

“Well,” Dracul commented, “no doubt Alexander Hislop the author of The Two Babylons is dancing with joy in his grave at the fact that Hecate has been spotted wandering the halls of the Vatican..’

Hecate had been spotted in the Vatican in each one of her three forms- maiden, matron and crone.

“This,” Whitstable opened the door to the room of the enigmatic Cardinal JM, “is the room from which Hecate first emerged according to our source.”

Van Helsing and Whitstable entered the room which was empty of any Crosses, Crucifixes or statues of Mary and the Saints.

There on the Cardinal’s altar was an unusual assembly of paraphernalia.

“That doesn’t look like Greek sorcery there,” said Whitstable, “it looks more like Haitian voodoo.”

“It does,” Van Helsing agreed,

“And there appears to be a photo of some Cardinal whose image has been made into a voodoo doll stuck with pins,” Whitstable pointed, “Do you recognize the Cardinal, Dracul?”.

“It’s Raymond Leo Cardinal Burke,” Dracul replied, “the former Patron of the Sovereign Military Order of Malta.”

“What did he do to inspire Cardinal JM’s hatred?” Whitstable asked.

“I don’t know,” Dracul Van Helsing shrugged, “but it appears there’s something rotten in the state of the Vatican.”

Meanwhile in his suite in the Kremlin, Russian President Vladimir Putin was dreaming of a vision he had encountered in the forest outside Moscow last autumn.

The vision was of Hecate in her maiden form handing him a crystal ball in the shape of a purple globe of the world.

Hecate The Greek Goddess of Witchcraft In Her Maiden Form

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Thursday March 2nd
2017.

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Reflections On A Passing Phantom

January 12, 2017 at 12:33 pm (Detective story, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, Romance, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , )

Sherrielock Holmes sat at her chair in front of the mirror on her table and dresser.

She had just returned from a masquerade ball where she had dressed up as the Nymph of the Blue Moon.

The Nymph of the Blue Moon was a character she had read about in a movie review of a film written by a movie reviewer and film critic who couldn’t remember the name of the movie he was reviewing.

The movie the reviewer had seen on TCM (Turner Classic Movies).

It was a movie from the 1980s.

The plot of the movie was about a 1920s silent era film producer and movie director who was able to travel between past and future.

The past of course was the 1920s where he was busy writing a screenplay for a movie he intended to produce and direct.

The future was a hidden time (possibly 2017?) where he was pursued by government agents of some sinister world power (possibly the United States in the closing days of Obama and the beginning days of Trump).

His present was visiting a house on the moon where a beautiful woman with a beautiful singing voice lived.

But his present was usually always short lived and he spent more time in the past (writing his movie screenplay) or in the future (being pursued by government agents for knowing too much about world affairs).

Then one night- it was a blue moon- and when the moon was blue, his love came down to his past where he was receiving an Oscar for Best Screenplay at some Academy Awards evening in the Hollywood of the 1920s.

Reunited with his love for good, he remained in the past since he figured winning Oscars for Best Screenplay, Best Director and Best Picture was far preferable to the future where he was shot and killed by government agents for being a threat to humanity.

So she designed her own costume for what she imagined as the Nymph of the Blue Moon and wore it to the masquerade party. (The costume can be viewed at the bottom of this page:

https://draculvanhelsing.wordpress.com/2017/01/09/dracul-van-helsing-and-sherrielock-holmes-the-nymph-of-the-blue-moon-a-poem/ )

She entered the house’s White Room where she had posed for a photograph shot by an influential London banker (who was one of her most important clients of her London based dominatrix service).

As she was posing for the photo, a man dressed as the Phantom of The Opera Erik happened to enter the room.

When he saw a photo session was taking place, he turned around and left the room.

Sherrielock was totally haunted by the look of intense loneliness the man had had beneath his mask.

A loneliness that was only matched by the character of Erik the Phantom of the Opera whose costume he wore.

When he left the room, she followed him.

He left the house and the masquerade party and went back to his lonely solitary room in a London rooming house.

She stood outside the window where she heard the sound of an old phonograph being played.

It was playing an old Michael Jackson song sung by Michael Jackson when he was very young- just 14 years old.

Although Sherrielock did not realize it, the song Ben was actually the “Phantom’s” favourite Michael Jackson song.

For the song seemed to describe so well the life the “Phantom” had lived in the 6 and a half years since his father died.

She could hear the lyrics of the song through the window:

Ben, you’re always running here and there
You feel you’re not wanted anywhere…

Ben, most people would turn you away…

I’m sure they’d think again
If they had a friend like Ben…

Sherrielock turned from the house and walked down the street.

Where her tear drops mixed with the snow flakes in falling on to the pavement.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday January 10th
2017.

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Tellington Blackstreet: A Poem

October 18, 2016 at 4:16 pm (Detective story, Film, Poetry) (, , , )

Tellington Blackstreet: A Poem

Tellington Blackstreet was a different sort of private eye
If trouble didn’t come to him, he’d go looking for trouble
He went into a library and the library sign said, This library is a safe zone
He wondered how safe it was
He went up to one of the librarians, pulled out a gun and shot him several times
He waited
The librarian died from multiple gunshot wounds
I guess the library wasn’t as safe as the sign made out to be
Tellington thought and walked away

He walked down the street and saw some irate female- no doubt a feminist- they were always irate about something or other- objecting to someone wearing a Donald Trump For President hat
“I feel uncomfortable and unsafe you wearing such a racist sexist homophobic hat” she whined.

“What a bitch,” Tellington thought to himself, “no doubt she’d really be bitching if someone shot her in the foot”
He decided to do just that to test the empirical results of his observation
Sure enough after he shot her in the foot, she really started bitching her head off
in between her screams of pain and agony.

Tellington decided to go back to the office
It had been a long time since a tight skirted hot looking babe femme fatale came into his office looking for help
Mind you in this city of quite a lot of ugly looking women that would be quite the unusual encounter
Where was that great fictional defender of the higher aesthetic values of civilization Pan Goatee around when you really need him?
Tellington wondered.
He turned to the Internet and read his favourite blog Dracul Van Helsing.

-A private eye poem
written by Christopher
Tuesday October 18th
2016.

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Wilkie The Cat: The Big Chill: A Private Eye Poem

August 2, 2016 at 12:03 pm (Detective story, Entertainment, Humour, Poetry) (, , , , , )

It had been a hot and humid night
Wilkie’s fur was feeling tight
stuck together like glue
not even a cat brush could get through
Wilkie’s fan was working overtime
while Wilkie drank water mixed with lime

The private eye office door opened then
frightening the office hen
who promptly laid an egg
that rolled under Wilkie’s leg

It was Mitzi standing there
looking better than a Tic Tac square
Wilkie thought in unromantic fashion
after all the she-cat was positively smashin’

How can I help you? Wilkie did ask.
I need a private eye, Mitzi winked, are you up to the task?

Wilkie banged the desk to signify yes
and the squashed egg made quite the mess
but in spite of the yolk
it was no joke.

Mitzi’s catnip had gone astray
it just upped and walked away

So Wilkie followed the catnip trail
one that made magic mushrooms pale
Through the Looking Glass, Wilkie went
and caused in Mad Hatter’s hat a dent
The Cheshire Cat’s smile was all that was there
when Queen of Hearts’ head hung in the square

Wilkie awoke with a start
saying be still, my rapid heart
His private eye fantasy all but a dream
He looked out his window and saw the catnip gleam

Wilkie thought to himself, Hm. I wonder?
Yes, what cat and nip have joined together, let not dreams put asunder.

-A poem written by Christopher
Saturday July 30th 2016.

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