Belvedere and The Lakota Sioux Princess Tanaka

April 8, 2018 at 10:58 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, International Intrigue, Mystery, Romance, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , )

Belvedere and The Lakota Sioux Princess Tanaka

Belvedere the ghost white salamander who worked as a reporter for The Times of London was meeting with one of his sources in a London restaurant.

The source was Gary Geese-Hogg an agent for MI-6.

The restaurant was Amit’s Curry 🍛 Palace.

“Love the food here,” said Gary as his spoon 🥄 dove into a bowl of delicious chicken curry.

“Being dead, I unfortunately can’t eat it,” said the ghost of the ghost white salamander, “so what’s your scoop?”.

“You’ve heard of Lev Tomi?” Geese-Hogg asked Belvedere.

“The head of the UN Secretariat On The Environment and Climate Change?” Belvedere asked.

“That’s the one,” Geese-Hogg nodded, “he’s been meeting continuously with George Soros on a regular basis the past few years.”

“The billionaire Hungarian-American investor?” Belvedere said.

“That’s the one,” Geese-Hogg motioned for some chai tea.

“And what are the subject of these meetings?” Belvedere wanted to know.

“We have no idea,” Geese-Hogg shrugged, “we’re hoping with your investigative reporting skills, you’ll be able to find out and tell us.”

Belvedere picked up his ghostly notebook and left.

Another waste of time, the ghost white salamander thought to himself.

As he walked through the street, he suddenly noticed a woman wearing a 19th Century Native American indigenous dress.

He recognized her as the Lakota Sioux Princess Tanaka.

The last time he saw her was in his mortal life as a non-ghost and a non-white salamander.

He had changed quite a lot since the last time he saw her.

But she was still the same.

Young looking and beautiful.

And still alive.

She couldn’t be a vampiress since it was broad daylight as she walked down the street.

And yet the last time he saw her was in the Black Hills of South Dakota back in 1877.

How, Belvedere wondered, was this possible?

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Sunday April 8th
2018.

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Renfield Rescued By Norse Valkyrie and Then Discusses Putin With Churchill’s Ghost

March 6, 2018 at 11:50 pm (Detective story, Espionage, Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, International Espionage, International Intrigue, Mystery, Mythology, News, Politics, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , )

Renfield Rescued By Norse Valkyrie and Then Discusses Putin With Churchill’s Ghost

Last night Sir Renfield R. Renfield MP had been saved from drowning in the Thames River by the Norse Valkyrie Svipul who had been flying overhead at the time.

Mr. Renfield had found himself caught up in an avalanche of snow and a wave of rainwater while singing badly performed renditions of old Rod Stewart and Glen Campbell songs.

The combined avalanche/wave pushed Mr. Renfield into the icy Thames River where Mr. Renfield could not extricate himself from such a predicament unless he was wearing a pair of snow flippers which he wasn’t (namely because such an unusual pair of foot apparel – a combination of snow shoes and scuba flippers- hasn’t been invented yet).

Fortunately for Mr. Renfield, the Norse Valkyrie Svipul had been flying overhead at the time.

Also fortunately for Mr. Renfield, the Norse Valkyrie Svipul did not recognize him as the individual who had butchered the lyrics and melody of the Liebestod from Richard Wagner’s opera Tristan und Isolde while performing a filibuster on a Brexit bill in the Westminster House of Commons a couple of months earlier.

Otherwise she’d have probably let the shapeshifting hamster/human British Transhumanist MP drown.

Mr. Renfield was much warmer now having put on a dry pair of clothes and also having received a thorough bottom blistering spanking from the Norse Valkyrie Svipul (who it turns out was a good dominatrix friend of the immortal dominatrix Sherrielock Holmes).

Mr. Renfield was now seated in his parliamentary office on an extra extra extra comfortable cushion on his chair at his desk seated across from the ghost of Sir Winston Churchill.

“So according to the Foreign Secretary Mr. Johnson’s speech in the Commons earlier today,” Churchill sipped on his ghostly brandy, “a certain foreign power may be responsible for the unknown substance attack on former Russian spy Sergei Skripal and his daughter Yulia Skripal in what is now being called the Salisbury Incident.”

“Yes,” Renfield nodded, “the Russians will probably stonewall high enough around Salisbury that they’ll erect a Russian Stonehenge to match the Druidic one.”

“No doubt the invisible hand of Mr. Putin is behind this,” Churchill rubbed his ghostly chin thoughtfully with his ghostly fingers.

“Undoubtedly,” Renfield sipped his non-ghostly and definitely non-ghastly brandy.

“If these ghastly events continue,” Churchill bit his ghostly lip, “Vladimir Putin may have to be bumped off.”

“Yes, I’ll probably have to bump Vladimir Putin off,” Renfield agreed as he accepted the Raymond Red Reddington Award that had been given him by an admiring fellow blogger.

“Well,” Churchill peered at Renfield over his ghostly spectacles 👓, “If any person in the world is capable of bumping off the notorious Mr. Putin, it would be you, Mr. Renfield.”

“Well, it certainly wouldn’t be Donald Trump,” Renfield agreed.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday March 6th
2018.

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Video Presentation On Sherry Valerie Hilles’ The Gothic Exorcist’s Chronicles

January 5, 2018 at 10:03 pm (Book Reviews, books, Entertainment, Fantasy, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, Horror, International Intrigue, Mystery, Mystery/horror, Mythology, The Supernatural) (, , , )

Video Presentation On Sherry Valerie Hilles’ The Gothic Exorcist’s Chronicles

My friend and fellow writer Sherry Valerie Hilles has recently published the 2nd volume of her GOTHIC EXORCIST’s CHRONICLES entitled The Fallen.

Volume One was entitled The Devil’s Promises.

Here is a short video presentation at YouTube about her two books:

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Carson Albion In Havana

December 9, 2017 at 7:20 pm (Detective story, Mystery, Poetry, Romance) (, , , , , , )

Carson Albion In Havana

It was underneath a clear blue Cuban sky
walked the man Carson Albion Private Eye
He had been hired in a deli that sold salami
by a wealthy Cuban exile in Miami
to find the man’s granddaughter he hadn’t heard from in years
a situation that led to anxiety and tears

Taking with him an old photo
and leaving Kansas minus Toto
he flew to Havana
and arrived at a cabana
where a poolside party was going on
he asked the owner who was stifling a yawn
“Have you seen this girl?”
The man gave the roulette wheel a twirl
“She’s considerably older now!” he said.
Albion was relieved to hear she wasn’t dead.

“Do you know where she can be found?”
Albion dropped cigar ash on the ground
“At the La Luna Club downtown,”
the man gave a slight frown.

Albion raised his fedora in thanks
and made his exit by the lobster tanks
He headed to the La Luna Club
but would he find the girl, aye, there’s the rub
Carlotta was the girl’s name
like Bogey looking for a dame

He entered the club and saw a beautiful young woman in a red dress
by comparison his bourbon decorated trench coat looked a mess
He took off his coat and put it on a chair
while the bartender scratched his underwear

Carlotta was the girl in the red dress
Albion knew it was more than a guess
She was on the dance 💃🏻 floor dancing up a storm
and Albion under his shirt collar was starting to feel warm

He approached her and asked her to dance
She immediately fell into a tango stance
and together they danced the tango across the floor
and soon both were out the nightclub door

They headed back to her apartment
and on her mattress they made a major dent
Their intense lovemaking
was quite earth shaking
After the climax and in each other’s arms
came the phone call from her grandfather’s Florida farms
so Albion took a selfie
texted it to Grandpa wealthy

The angry grandfather told Albion not to bother coming home to America
otherwise he’d find himself dead in a Florida Oranges crate-ia.

So in Havana Albion did remain
so as not to turn Carlotta’s grandfather into Biblical Cain
They would often spend nights dancing the tango
and later in bed roared like Rambo.

-A poem written by Christopher
Saturday December 9th
2017

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The 2nd Anniversary of Sherrielock Holmes’ Appearance On The World Stage

November 23, 2017 at 4:55 pm (Culture, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, International Intrigue, Literature, Mystery, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) ()

The 2nd Anniversary of Sherrielock Holmes’ Appearance On The World Stage

It was apparently 2 years ago today that I first introduced the character of Sherrielock Holmes on to the world stage.

The London dominatrix who’s the lesser known twin sister of the great London consulting detective Sherlock Holmes.

The London dominatrix who once ate a Lingzhi supernatural mushroom and is now immortal as a result.

Here’s the blog post from 2 years ago where I introduced the character of Sherrielock Holmes to the world:

https://draculvanhelsing.wordpress.com/2015/11/23/sherrielock-holmes/

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Murder On Air Force One

October 8, 2017 at 7:57 pm (Detective story, Entertainment, Film, Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, Movies, Mystery, Politics, Radio, Radio Ads, Satire, Short play/ comedy, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , )

Murder On Air Force One

The new movie Murder On The Orient Express would be opening in movie theatres across the world soon.

So BBC Radio 📻 asked various British MPs to come up with their own theatre movie trailer radio ad for a fictional movie about a murder that takes place aboard some mode of transport.

Here was British Transhumanist MP Renfield R. Renfield’s radio ad for a movie called Murder On Air Force One:

Coming soon to a theatre near you… Murder On Air Force One…

… The President of the United States is a pompous blowhard with a phoney toupee. And now he’s been found dead aboard Air Force One. Strangled by the tail of a red spider monkey. Who has done this deed?

Was it his much younger wife who only recently found out that her husband has grabbed and clutched the pussy of many a woman galore (to use a twist of phrase from the name of a James Bond movie character)?

Was it his youngest son who was tired of his father telling him to only take small bites of his food 🥘 and not big bites like that of Ohio Gov. John Kasich?

Was it his daughter who being forced into the public spotlight as a result of her father being President, it was now discovered that some of her company’s clothing and products were made by slave labour in Communist China 🇨🇳?

Was it his Secretary of State who was recently publicly castrated by his boss in a Twitter tweet?

Was it his Secretary of Defence who after a lifelong career in the U.S. military knows an asshole when he sees one?

Was it one of numerous White House employees, aides or cabinet secretaries who have been fired since he took office? Including a White House press secretary who not only suffered for his boss but was made fun of on Saturday Night Live?

Was it one of numerous opponents who challenged him for his party’s nomination last year? A Texas senator who was called a liar 🤥? A Florida senator who was told he had small hands?

Was it a Senator from Arizona – an American war hero who the President said wasn’t a hero because he was caught?

Was it the mayor of a city hit by a hurricane that the President said wasn’t a real calamity as he practised football throws with plastic packages of paper towels?

Was it the Prime Minister of a former Yugoslavian republic who got discourteously pushed out of the way at a NATO summit earlier this year?

Was it an Asian despot who had his rocket 🚀 called little even though the said despot had his half-brother killed in a Kuala Lumpur airport for much less?

Was it a member of Antifa outraged that the only person who saw clearly that two sides were to blame for the violence at Charlottesville Virginia this past summer was the idiot who was the late American President (thus implying that America was a land of the dumb and the stupid instead of the brave and the free since neither the media journalists and commentators nor entertainment celebrities had even had the intelligence of the said idiot President to see this)?

Was it an angry 😡 woman who was the opposing Party’s Presidential candidate? A woman who talked to Eleanor Roosevelt’s ghost and who wanted to play with voodoo dolls having lost the last Presidential election to him?

Was it the woman candidate’s husband anxious to return to the White House- this time as First Laddie so he could continue his crusade of helping out detergent manufacturers by leaving nasty stains on women’s dresses?

So many suspects.

Who done it?

And it’s the job of Belgian sleuth Bellerophonie Peugeot (aboard the plane ✈️ to make Belgian waffles for the First Family) to find out.

As he goes around the plane telling people to “Touch nothing” in his Belgian accent that sounds suspiciously French, someone grabs a knapsack (mistaking it for a parachute) and jumps out of the plane.

Who done it?

One of the numerous suspects mentioned above?

Or the personage who jumped out of the plane who’s now scrambled eggs 🍳 on the earth below?

Only Belgian sleuth Bellerophonie Peugeot knows for sure.

As the Belgian waffles get very well done as the Belgian sleuth finds out Who Dun It?

Murder On Air Force One… coming soon to a theatre near you.

-A Renfieldian Radio Ad
For A Murder Mystery Movie
and a vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Sunday October 8th
2017

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Dulcinea Lucia and The Vampiric Knights-Templar

September 17, 2017 at 11:34 pm (Detective story, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, International Intrigue, Mystery, Mystery/horror, News, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , )

Dulcinea Lucia and The Vampiric Knights-Templar

Once Private Eyes 👀 Agathor Christie and Magog Rhys Petley decided to take the case for Allatallahbel the Vampiress Priestess of Baal and search for the 13 Vampiric Knights-Templar who survived French King 👑 Philip the Fair’s Friday October 13th 1307 raid on Jacques de Molay and his fellow Knights-Templars, they started where most Private Eyes would when confronted with such a case.

They went to see a gypsy fortune 🔮 teller.

And a young beautiful and sexy one at that.

Dulcinea Lucia the gypsy fortune teller of London’s Carnaby Street.

When they entered her shop, they discovered she was dressed like Elvira the popular American horror movie show hostess of the 1980s- a black evening dress slit at the sides from thigh to ankle, black silk pantyhose and black spiked stiletto high heeled shoes.

This would thus be an interview both men would enjoy.

Dulcinea Lucia told Agathor and Magog that the 13 Knights had managed to escape King Philip’s Friday the 13th raid by being in a Paris brothel at the time.

When informed of the raid, the 13 knights went south to the village of Rennes-le-Chateau in the Languedoc region of southern France 🇫🇷.

“Any idea, why there?” Agathor asked.

“One of Jesus’ cousins is buried in a grave there,” Dulcinea Lucia answered.

“The Jesus?” The Marxist atheist former Labour MP Magog raised an eyebrow.

“Yes,” Dulcinea Lucia answered.

“How did they become vampires?” Agathor asked.

“The ancient Babylonian vampiress Lilith was in the village of Rennes-le-Chateau at the time,” Dulcinea Lucia answered, “she bit each man on the neck and turned them into vampires on the evening of October 23rd 1307 – 10 days after Philip the Fair’s Friday the 13th October raid on all the lodges and temples of the Knights-Templar in France.”

“And have those 13 Vampiric Knights-Templar survived since then?” Magog queried.

“7 of them were slain inside the Episcopalian Cathedral of St. John The Divine in New York City on Friday October the 13th 2006 while attending a Meatloaf concert being held at the central altar of the cathedral,” Dulcinea Lucia answered.

“The Meat Loaf?” Agathor asked.

“Yes,” Dulcinea Lucia nodded, “the one who sang Bat 🦇 Out of Hell, Two Out of Three Ain’t Bad, I’d Do Anything For Love and Rock And Roll 🎸 Dreams Come Through.”

“And they had a Meat Loaf concert right at the central altar?” Asked Magog who had visited the Episcopal Cathedral of Saint John The Divine in New York City with Agathor on their recent U.S. trip where they had encountered Shiva the Hindu god of destruction and transformation at that very same central altar.

“It was more of a Knights-Templar Illuminati satanic ceremony where they were going to sacrifice Meat Loaf to the Baphomet because Baphomet wanted both a singer and a meatloaf dish for his birthday so the Illuminati and the Knights-Templar were going to give him a 2 for 1 special,” Dulcinea Lucia opened her book of meatloaf recipes.

“And you said that 7 of the Vampiric Knights Templar were slain at that Friday the 13th October 2006 Meatloaf sacrifice ceremony in the Episcopal Cathedral of Saint John The Divine?” Agathor questioned.

“Yes, the 7 who attended the ceremony,” Dulcinea smoothed her dress, “the other 6 were still in their New York City 🌃 hotel rooms recovering from severe hangovers the night before- hangovers that saved their lives in the long run.”

“Who slew the 7 Vampire Knights that attended the ceremony?” Agathor asked.

“That was Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing and the mighty Lakota Sioux vampire huntress Jennifer Cochran,” Dulcinea Lucia smiled, “both of them were Meat Loaf fans.”

“Of the singer or the dish?” Magog inquired.

“Both,” Dulcinea Lucia smiled and winked.

A bell went off in the kitchen behind her gypsy 🔮 ball reading room.

“If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen,” Dulcinea Lucia stood up, “my own meatloaf is ready. Unless you care to join me.”

They did.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Sunday September 17th
2017.

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Vampiress Priestess of Baal Hires Two London Private Eyes

September 13, 2017 at 6:52 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, Mystery, Mystery/horror, News, Religion, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , )

Vampiress Priestess of Baal Hires Two London Private Eyes

Agathor Christie and Magog Rhys Petley were both sitting in their newly opened London office.

Agathor Christie had been the sitting incumbent British Conservative MP for the constituency of Tewkesbury In The Cotswolds until he got defeated by British Transhumanist Party candidate Renfield R. Renfield in this past June’s UK 🇬🇧 General Election.

Magog Rhys Petley had been been the sitting incumbent British Labour MP for the constituency of Newbridge in Wales until he got defeated by British Transhumanist Party candidate Morgana Fay Lee in this past June’s UK 🇬🇧 General Election.

Since both men (although from different parties) had lost their respective parliamentary seats to candidates for the up and coming British Transhumanist Party, they decided to take a post-defeat consolation tour of the U.S. together.

Now back in London, both men decided to open up a private detective firm together since it turned out that, as children, both had loved reading Raymond Chandler’s Philip Marlowe private eye novels and stories.

After officially opening the office and helping themselves to both bourbon 🥃 and cigars, they sat back in their respective comfortable leather upholstered mahogany armchairs and waited for their first client to walk through the door.

The story on BBC World News they watched on the office television was about a Kraken rising out of Lake Okanagan in British Columbia’s Okanagan Valley and walking through a grape 🍇 and wine 🍷 orchard near the city of West Kelowna and eating grapes 🍇 and drinking bottles of wine.

It then grabbed a statue of the Virgin Mary as Our Lady of Lourdes from the orchard gardens and took the statue with him back into the lake.

The vineyard owner speculated that the Kraken might be the lake’s famed sea serpent lake monster Ogopogo who was said to have haunted the lake for centuries.

“Certainly a lot of krakens rising up all over the place these days,” Agathor quipped.

“There are,” Magog quickly downed his glass of bourbon, “nasty business that.”

“I wonder if some beautiful woman femme fatale will walk in through the door wearing a tight fitting dress like always happens in Philip Marlowe stories?” Agathor asked as he polished off his glass of bourbon.

“I wonder,” Magog re-filled his glass.

At that moment, a beautiful dark haired and dark eyed woman wearing a tight fitting Phoenician purple evening dress and a diamond 💎 necklace with the diamonds cut into the shape of human skulls around her neck walked into their office with the sharp click of spiked stiletto high-heeled shoes 👠.

“I am the Vampiress Allatallahbel the Priestess of Baal,” said the incredibly sexy and beautiful female figure standing in front of them, “I’m here to hire you to find the last of the band of 13 Vampiric Knights-Templar -13 individuals who were the sole escaping survivors of French King Philip the Fair’s Friday October 13th 1307 raid on Jacques de Molay and his fellow Knights-Templar.”

“Well that answers the question you asked a few minutes ago,” Magog addressed Agathor as he finished yet another glass of bourbon.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Wednesday September 13th
2017.

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Jack O’ Hare In Film Noir: A Poem

September 4, 2017 at 7:15 pm (Comedy, Crime, Detective story, Entertainment, Humour, Mystery, Poetry, Radio) (, , , , )

Jack O’ Hare In Film Noir: A Poem

It was on the other side of San Francisco Chinatown
lived the man called Emmanuel Gold Brown
He got electrocuted when the radio fell into his bath one night
with the result he died listening to Inner Sanctum but not from fright
The water was still bubbling when police and ambulance arrived
causing the lieutenant to quip this place is hotter than a jazz jive

Electrocution was the cause of death ruled the city’s coroner
no surprise- unlike the plum in pie of little Jack Horner
The question was who threw the plugged radio into the tub
leading to murder most foul- aye, there’s the rub

Now Jack O’ Hare was a private eye in town
one who knew a verb was different from a noun
The other eyes in town didn’t have much of an education
so bad- they could have been Congressmen planning legislation

It just so happened one hot and sultry night
as a lonely carrot succumbed to Jack’s bite
that Jessica Rabbit came strolling through the door
wearing an outfit that sent most men dead to the floor

Jessica’s tight fitting dress caused Jack to hyperventilate
but that would not be the extent of this bunny rabbit’s fate
for Jessica knew who had slain Emmanuel Gold Brown
the dashing night club owner and man about town

How do you know? Jack asked in between munching on carrots
he wondered why the building next door was loaded with ferrets.
I was there in the bathroom at the time
answered Roger Rabbit’s wife who was dressed to the nine.

Jack choked on his bottle of Avocado 🥑 and Grapefruit mix
he didn’t drink bourbon like those eyes in the Sticks.
What were you doing in the bathroom when the man was taking a bath 🛀?
This remark caused Jessica Rabbit to laugh and laugh.

Said Jessica, We owe the IRS a lot in back taxes
far more than Lizzie Borden gave her parents whackses
Now Roger’s acting career doesn’t pay much when it comes to loading the dice 🎲
In fact it doesn’t even pay for a take out order of rice 🍚
So I, sighed Jessica, have to make a little money on the side
which often involves taking men for a ride

That means you’re an —–? Jack paused on his paws
“Escort is the word I prefer,” Jessica said, “The service called Ma’s.”
“I just thought Mrs. Barker made apple pie,”
Jack rubbed the carrot juice out of his eye.
“Oh, Mrs. Barker has plenty of pies galore
as well as all sorts of cats coming in and out the door.”
“It’s a real cat house then?”
Jack caught an egg from a hen.
The hen ran up the fire escape
It was how she kept in shape.

“You could very well say that,”
Jessica spoke setting the trap,
“Now come along with me
to the wharf by the sea
and you’ll meet Brown’s killer
for real- not like in a Thriller.”

“And why would I want to meet Brown’s killer?” Jack asked,
“I’d sooner meet the Ghost of Christmas Past.”
“Because I’m paying you to,”
Jessica adjusted her dress tight and blue.

“Paying me to meet a killer?”
It did sound like an opening line in a thriller.
Jessica showed Jack her diamond ring 💍
as the nightingale in the alley started to sing 🎶
“These carats could buy a lot of carrots,” Jessica suggested
as she lowered her dress top showing she was amply breasted.

“Indeed they could,” Jack rose to the occasion
He didn’t need any more persuasion
so Jack and Jessica headed to a wharf on the Bay in San Fran
A foggy night where people get lost just trying to find the can

Jack and Jess got out of the car in time before it headed off the dock
With the splash, Jack sighed, “There goes my favourite sock.”
He really should learn to drive with his shoes on
either that or stop walking bare feet where the salmon spawn.

“Good evening, Mr. O’ Hare,”
said a voice most sinister,
“I’ve been expecting you.”
“Have you seen a floating red sock pass through?”
Jack O’ Hare was anxious to know
before he felt the urge to go.

“I killed Emmanuel Gold Brown,” the man grinned
to deed he’d admit but wouldn’t confess he sinned
“And why did you do that?” Jack sounded like the BBC’s Detective Foyle
while he sat and waited for his tea to boil

“Why are you boiling tea on the dock?”
This man wondered if Jack’s private eye reputation was all a crock
“Because I’m thirsty,” replied Jack
pulling out biscuits for a snack,
“Your voice sounds very familiar.”
The bunny waved aside Jessica’s offer of a Pilsner.

“It should sound familiar,” the man frothed, “for I am the voice of The Shadow.”
A ship 🚢 sailed by carrying llamas for cargo.
“You don’t sound much like Orson Welles,”
Jack found on the pier a book of spells.

“Ever since Welles played that role, the public won’t accept another voice for the Shadow,”
into his handkerchief the man his nose did blow.
“Them’s the brakes,” Jack remarked as a car spun out of control off the dock
Jessica wondered if she should go home and change her frock.

“So,” Jack scratched his whiskers, “why did you kill Emmanuel Gold Brown?”
“Because,” the man said, “he wasn’t listening to me- Lamont Cranston wealthy young man about town.
He was listening to Inner Sanctum Mysteries told by Raymond your host.
For that mistake in radio programming, he’s now a ghost 👻.”

The man took out a gun and aimed it at Jack,
“I wanted to get my reputation back,
to kill the world’s greatest private eye like meat 🍖 on a rack
but whoever told me about you was smoking too much crack.”

“Smoking is bad for your health,”
said Jack whose advice was medical wealth.
The man clicked the gun, “I’ll shoot you like a dog in my pyjama,”
It was then he was run over by a fleeing llama.

The Shadow was buried the very next day
while Jack was hopping through farm fields and hay
Jack thought of the night before and of Jessica Rabbit, he really should have kissed her
He sighed, went home, put the radio on and listened to The Whistler.

-A Jack O’ Hare poem
written by Christopher
Monday September 4th
2017.

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London Swings Like A Pendulum Do: The Tower of Big Ben

August 17, 2017 at 8:13 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, International Espionage, Mystery, Mystery/horror, Mythology, News, Romance, Science-Fiction, The Supernatural, Vampire novel, western) (, , , , , , , , )

London Swings Like A Pendulum Do: The Tower of Big Ben

Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing had received an urgent text message from the Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec.

Apparently Qonzilqointec had always wanted to make out underneath the bell of Big Ben in the famous London clock tower that people also called by that name.

Now the Aztec vampiress had just found out that the Big Ben clock tower would be undergoing renovations for the next 4 years and the bell would fall silent following the chimes at noon next Monday August 21st.

She asked Dracul to meet her underneath the bell at the clock tower between 7 and 8 tonight so they could make out.

“I’ve got to go,” Dracul explained the whole situation to Amadeus Emanon whom he was having tea ☕️ with.

Dracul exited the tea shop.

Amadeus’ iPhone went off.

“Hello?” Amadeus answered.

“Hello, Amadeus?” It was Renfield R. Renfield, “I’ve lost Dracul’s mobile phone number. Is he still there with you?”.

“No, he’s gone to the Tower of Big Ben to make out with the Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec underneath the bell since they’re going to silence the bell for the next 4 years starting next Monday,” Amadeus unwrapped and ate a chocolate covered peanut shaped replica of the Dr. Who TARDIS Police Call Box Public Phone Booth.

“Wow, some guys have all the fun,” Renfield remarked as the Simon and Garfunkel song The Sounds of Silence played on the radio behind him.

. . .

Cardinal Walter Kasper was walking through the halls of the Vatican when a statue of Our Lady of Fatima crashed down right beside him.

“Oh well,” Cardinal Kasper looked at his watch ⌚️ 7:06 PM, “No great loss.”

. . .

The great South African artist SAREJESS was having another dream.

He dreamed that the Tower of Big Ben in London was sending out a great searchlight signal that read 1001 Positions of the Kama Sutra.

He saw Dr. Who’s TARDIS Police Call Box Public Phone Booth flying through the air.

He saw the Greek god Ares dressed in a full suit of armour prepared for war and sailing on the Ship of Hades (a ship he had recently painted a few weeks ago) at sea.

He saw North Korean dictator Kim Jong-un wearing a top hat 🎩, tux, tails and cane and tap dancing while holding hands with Bob Hope and Bing Crosby singing Thanks For The Memory while the clock struck midnight at Rick’s Cafe Americain in Casablanca.

He saw Donald Trump shampooing his hair and a barrel of monkeys falls out of it.

He saw the three-headed dog Cerberus biting a scythe holding Father Time on the buttocks.

He saw Ares trying to shove a large tornado shaped vortex into a small bottle.

He saw a red dress wearing red headed woman standing in the middle of snow ❄️ in the middle of a forest and firing two unusual looking armed weapons.

The woman (although a redhead) looked like Serena the blonde he had seen in the room with Belvedere on the 2nd floor of The Wild Tomatoes and Mushroom Saloon in that dream he had a few weeks ago where an Egyptian Pharaoh looking Orson Welles had come out of a Cuckoo Clock on the room’s wall.

. . .

British Prime Minister Theresa May was just walking below the clock tower of Big Ben at Westminster when a pair of very sexy red lingerie Victoria’s Secret panties fell down on top of her head.

“Nice looking panties, Mrs. May,” British Transhumanist MP Renfield R. Renfield remarked as he walked by.

“They’re not mine,” Mrs. May’s blushing 😊 red face could not be seen under the red panties.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Thursday August 17th
2017.

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