Mei-ling Manchu At The Green Dragon and Shamrock B and B In Beijing

April 12, 2021 at 10:59 pm (Espionage, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, International Intrigue, News, Politics, Romance, Spy Tales, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , )

Vampiress Mei-ling Manchu waiting outside the Green Dragon and Shamrock B and B in Beijing

Vampiress Mei-ling Manchu was waiting outside the Green Dragon and Shamrock B and B (Bed and Breakfast) in Beijing.

Mei-ling Manchu had once been a loyal follower of the CCP (Chinese Communist Party).

But during the last decade she had come to realize that the CCP had only increasd misery not alleviated it.

For the real purpose of the CCP had been, like that of Communist parties everywhere, to crush the human soul.

Having once been a dialectical materialist, she had not believed in the existence of the human soul.

But in the dissidents she had occasionally met over the years, those dissidents who had stood up against the CCP regime in Beijing, she had come to realize that the human soul and the human spirit did exist in those dissidents.

Those who continued to follow the regime, followed its despotic decrees day by day and meekly accepted the CCP’s diabolic Social Credit score were allowing their souls day by day to die little by little.

Until one day their souls were no more.

And they were just human fleshed cogs in a CCP machine who’d one day be replaced by robot cogs in the machine as the Transhumanism of the new Xi Jinping inspired CCP Transhumanism and the Transhumanism of the western globalist technocratic Fascism of the capitalist West merged into one.

What was killing the souls of the once great Chinese people was now killing the souls of people across the globe.

For lockdowns and isolation and the creation of a two-tiered system of people via vaccine passports was spreading throughout the world.

And most did not resist.

For their souls had been killed by the diabolical dialectic materialism of monopolistic capitalism with its greed and avarice (what Saint Paul had dubbed “the love of money” which the Apostle had further noted was “the root of all evil”).

Like Esau in the Bible who had sold his inheritance for a bowl of pottage, so the peoples of the West had sold their inheritance (their souls) for a bowl of pottage (whatever little bits of slop their globalist technocratic masters threw at them as long as they kept on their masks, practiced their social distancing and continued their OCD continuous handwashing).

The Green Dragon and Shamrock B. and B. in Beijing was owned by Yaldabaoth the Irish leprechaun.

He had been granted permission to open this B. and B. by Chinese Premier Chou En-lai back in the early 1970s.

As David Cheung the owner of Edmonton’s Pearl River Restaurant had once told a young University student (today a Calgary based geopolitical analyst friend of Renfield) that when Chou died “the people of China wept both in public and in private but when Mao died they wept in public but not in private”).

The inference being that Chou did have the interests of the Chinese people at heart even though he had mistakenly chosen the philosophy of Marxism-Leninism to bring about a better society.

While Mao did not have the interests of the Chinese people at heart.

He was a megalomaniac who craved power for power’s sake.

Just like today Xi Jinping was a 2nd Mao Tse-tung.

Chou and Yaldabaoth had once made their own recipe a Peking Duck Irish Stew together and Chou had let Yaldabaoth have this property as his reward.

And today Mei-ling Manchu was meeting British MP Renfield R. Renfield at the Green Dragon and Shamrock B. and B. to put the final touches on their plan to kill Xi Jinping.

Renfield, who had disappeared from public sight in Britain last week, had in fact been flying the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set’s invisible dirigible airship The Claude Rains and Lamont Cranston Project One over to China.

Renfield and Mei-ling greeted one another with a hug and a kiss and then went into the B. and B.

“Mei-ling,” Renfield inquired, “Sherrielock Holmes was telling me about anassignment she had once done for Britain’s MI-6. The matter apparently involved then California U.S. Republican Senatorial candidate Richard M. Nixon and yourself. She had hired a Los Angeles private eye Carson Cody Albion to see what was going on. Apparently Albion discovered that you had failed in your attempt to seduce Nixon.”

“I did not fail,” Mei-ling said, “It turns out that Nixon, despite his many faults, was at least loyal and faithful to his wife which is not true of most male politicians of whatever political stripe in the U.S.A.”.

“So you got nothing out of your encounter?” Renfield sipped his cup of green tea.

“I did hypnotize him with a Ming dynasty pocket watch- the first pocket watch ever invented,” Mei-ling noted, “I said whenever he heard a German wearing glasses singing the Bob Hope song Thanks For The Memories, then he was to open up diplomatic relations with the government of the People’s Republic of China. One of our operatives Ho Babylon Minh hypnotized Dr. Henry Kissinger via use of a blow job to sing the Bob Hope song Thanks For The Memories at a White House gala in early 1971. That set everything in motion. Nixon in a live TV address on July 15th 1971 announced that he would be visiting the People’s Republic of China.”

As Mei-ling Manchu tossed a 1000-Year-Old egg into a nearby garbage can, Renfield wondered to himself, “I wonder who got the best end of the stick? Nixon or Kissinger?”.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Monday April 12th
2021.

Permalink 2 Comments

An Intersection of Time

April 10, 2021 at 10:58 pm (Film, Ghost Story, love, Movies, Music, Poetry, Romance, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , )

The year was 1929.
The bride was waiting for the wedding to begin.
She looked behind her.
And noticed one of the candles had burnt out.
Was this an omen she wondered?
Was she making the right decision?
Was her life about to become like that burnt out candle?

2021.
Amadeus Emanon was standing on the stage of an empty nightclub.
The nightclub was closed due to Boris Johnson’s lockdown.
But Amadeus felt at his best when performing on a stage.
He may not be able to sing to people in the club.
But he felt he was able to sing to ghosts.
The ghosts of the past.
The ghosts of the present.
And the ghosts of the future.

The ghosts of the present.
People alone and isolated.
And fading away
Under an iron curtain
That had descended all across the globe.

The ghosts of the future
If there was a future
Those whose anguished cries could not reach the present
As the darkness fell
And everything was void
and waiting for that moment
Of the spoken Word,
“Let there be light.”

Ghosts of the past.
In a distant theatre box
Amadeus saw a woman in silhoutte
A bride
Looking back at a burnt out candle
Silent
Apprehensive
As if she was looking at an omen.

Amadeus began to sing
And sang to the woman
To the bride…

Moon River, wider than a mile
I’m crossing you in style someday
Oh dream maker
You heartbreaker
Where ever you’re going I’m going your way
Two drifters off to see the world
There’s such a lot of world to see
We’re after the same rainbow’s end
Waiting round the bend
My huckleberry friend
Moon River and me.

Amadeus lowered his head
The song was finished
The spot light was fading
And it was as if the singer
Was waiting for the applause

That never came.

The bride listened
She had never heard the song
And probably would not again
Unless on some far off 1961 morning
She had breakfast at Tiffany’s

But the song gave her courage
And inspired her to walk down the aisle
And grasp the hand of her love
Her huckleberry friend
Two drifters off to see the world
Because
there’s such a lot of world to see

The moon came through
Shining through the stained glass window
Depicting the Jordan River
And at this nighttime service
It shone brightly
On the spot
Where the one candle had burnt out

In the far off distance
Amadeus’ voice carried through time,
“Moon River and thee.”

-A poem and vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday April 10th
2021.

Permalink 8 Comments

The Turning Point

April 9, 2021 at 8:51 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, Mythology, News, Romance, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , )

“So, where is your friend Renfield R. Renfield tonight?” Angelique Dumont asked her boyfriend Amadeus Emanon as he came over to her apartment.

“I was informed by Athelstan the butler at the Set Mansion this morning that Renfield has apparently decided to vanish for a few days,” Amadeus answered.

“Vanish?” Angelique seemed perplexed.

“Yes, the number of governments and wealthy global oligarchs around the world who want to see him assassinated has really grown exponentially the past week,” Amadeus explained.

“So I take it then that Renfield won’t be attending Prince Philip’s funeral?” Angelique inquired.

“Well I understand Philip’s funeral is to be a small affair at the Duke of Edinburgh’s own personal request plus Covid restrictions are in place,” Amadeus was eating a Worcestershire sauce laced grilled cheese sandwich, “Plus I don’t think Renfield would have really been invited anyways.”

“Prince Philip didn’t like Renfield?” Angelique Dumont put honey in her tea.

“I don’t think Philip knew Renfield very well,” Amadeus pointed out, “But Prince Philip’s eldest son Charles Prince of Wales and Duke of Cornwall certainly doesn’t like Renfield very well.”

“Why doesn’t Prince Charles like Renfield?” Angelique wanted to know.

“Well, because a few years ago, Charles was only standing a few feet away from Renfield when Renfield said to someone else that in his opinion Charles’ 2nd wife Camilla the Duchess of Cornwall looked like a horse,” Amadeus sipped a ginger beer.

“That would explain the Prince of Wales and Duke of Cornwall Charles’ dislike of Renfield,” Angelique admitted.

“The next day, Renfield did issue an apology… to horses,” Amadeus recalled, “but even that didn’t quite cut the mustard with Prince Charles.”

“I should say not,” Angelique shook her head, “But I think Her Majesty the Queen likes Renfield does she not?”.

“Yes,” Amadeus nodded, “Because Renfield once saved one of her Welsh corgis from drowning in a swimming pool.”

. . .

“Who’s this Prince Philip guy?” American President Joe Biden asked one of his aides, “Is he the fellow who made Philips Electric Shavers?”.

“No, Mr. President,” The aide wore a t-shirt that said I’M WITH STUPID with an arrow pointing in Biden’s direction, “He was the Prince Consort of the Queen of England.”

“Victoria?” Biden reached for a glass of water to take his Geritol pills.

“That was Prince Albert,” his aide sounded exasperated, “And Victoria was queen for the most part of two centuries ago.”

“Who’s the current Queen?” Biden inquired.

“Are you referring to the Sovereign of Great Britain or your recent appointment to the position of Assistant Secretary of Health and Human Services?” His aide wanted to know.

Biden scratched his head at that one.

. . .

After administering a severe spanking to Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing for being late to their meeting, the Norse Goddess Freya went to a corner of the room and stood looking at him.

“So did you find out if it’s true that my son Thor has formed an alliance with Loki?” Freya asked.

“It’s true,” Dracul Van Helsing lit a cigarette and poured himself a glass of bourbon.

“But such an alliance was not foreseen in the Poetic Edda or Prose Edda?” Freya pointed out.

“That’s true as well,” Van Helsing nodded, “Anyhow Thor and Loki have formed an alliance with Osiris and Horus to bring about a Great Reset New World Order. That idiotic English language mantra Build Back Better is being translated into ancient Norse and ancient Egyptian even as we speak.”

“This is depressing news,” Freya sighed, “I need a conjugal encounter right now to get rid of my depression.”

“So do I,” Van Helsing confessed.

They were soon on the bed in the apartment making out with one another.

The ghost of Orson Welles walked in at that moment.

“Not again,” Welles’ ghost went back into the hall.

A Norwegian otter carrying a notepad and a pencil asked Welles if he knew the ancient Norse word for Google.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday April 9th
2021.

Permalink 8 Comments

Michelangelo’s Dream of Bogey and Bacall

March 27, 2021 at 10:34 pm (Detective story, Entertainment, Film, History, Humour, Poetry, Romance, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , )

Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster had a dream where he was playing Humphrey Bogart’s character of Philip Marlowe and having an encounter with Lauren Bacall.

After waking up, he decided to write a narrative poem about his dream.

He went over to his waterproof laptop to start writing but then decided to use his recently bought old vintage Underwood typewriter that had been custom refurbished to work underwater.

Grabbing some waterproof sheets of paper, he inserted them into his waterproof old vintage Underwood typewriter and started typing the poem.

Bogey and Bacall: Philip Marlowe’s Right On The Ball
A narrative poem
By Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster
Narrated in the First Person
By Philip Marlowe
(As played by Humphrey Bogart)

So I had come home after a hard day on the case
Rather difficult to try to sleep on a case of bourbon
I did do some work on that other case
Trying to find Max Spellbein’s younger daughter
Where do younger daughters hang out these days anyways?

I went down to Frankie’s Jazz Cafe
The Pink Flamingo Lounge
And even The Silverstar Nightclub
Nothing.
No sign of her.

I even went down to the bus depot and the shipyard
Her ship must have sailed when my bus came in
Does that make any sense?
Probably not.
Difficult to make sense
When one’s mind is adrift
In a sea of bourbon.

I lit a cigarette
Put it in my mouth
And made a silent prayer
That this combination of alcohol and flame
Didn’t send me up like a rocket on New Year’s Eve.

I thought I heard piano music coming from my piano
Which was strange
I rarely play the piano these days
Not since I got my fingers caught in that mousetrap
Under the altar of Saint Ignatius’ Church
When I said to the good priest,
“Pray it again, Sam.”

After sitting in my chair
Looking up at the ceiling
And watching the paint dry
It suddenly hit me
That I hadn’t painted this place in ages
So there was no drying paint to watch

That was definitely music I was hearing
So either someone was playing the piano
Or the angels were calling me

So I walked into the piano room
And there at the piano
Sat Max Spellbein’s elder daughter

Lauren Bacall: Playing the piano and singing, “When smoke gets in your eyes…”

I stood there
Inhaled the air from the open window
And realized I wouldn’t be spending the night alone.

-A narrative poem
and vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday March 27th
2021.

Permalink 8 Comments

Portrait of Tapairu The Tahitian Sleeping Beauty

March 21, 2021 at 10:27 pm (Art, Arts, History, Romance, Short Story, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , )

Portrait of Tapairu the Tahitian Sleeping Beauty

“What an absolutely beautiful painting,” Sherrielock Holmes the (quite literally) immortal twin sister of London consulting detective Sherlock Holmes gazed at the newest acquisition now hanging in the Dashwood Forrest Art Gallery in London.

Mr. Truffles her orange tabby cat purred in agreement and looked up affectionately at the painting.

“It was painted in Tahiti back in 1894 by one Sean Seamus O’ Gill an Irish painter and artist who lived on the island of Tahiti around the same time as the French artist Paul Gauguin,” Dashwood Forrest the art gallery owner and curator explained, “sadly Mr. O’ Gill is not as well known as Gauguin.”

As the old grandfather clock chimed in the gallery and the statue of a gnome emerged out of a small drawer to turn over an hourglass whose sands had just run out, images from a past time seemed to filter into the present.

Sean Seamus O’ Gill looked at the vision in front of him.

“What a vision,” Sean Seamus O’ Gill remarked to the French missionary priest Father Jacques La Croix.

“It’s like that old Irish hymn whose lyrics begin “Be thou my vision”, eh, Sean?” Father La Croix smiled.

“I guess you could phrase it that way,” Sean nodded, “She does look divine.”

“That she does,” Father La Croix agreed.

“Are you sure she wouldn’t object to being painted while sleeping?” Sean asked.

“No,” Father La Croix shook his head, “She wants to be painted while sleeping. She wants this portrait to be called the Tahitian Sleeping Beauty. She wants to give it as a gift to the man she’s going to marry.”

“She’s engaged?” A look of disappointment crossed Sean’s face.

“Nothing official yet,” Father La Croix answered, “but she hopes to be.”

And so that was how Sean Seamus O’ Gill came to paint the portrait of Tapairu the Tahitian sleeping beauty.

Over the next few months, Sean would sketch drawings and eventually paint pictures afterwards of Tapairu dancing at night in the village center like a royal dancer.

He would sketch drawings and paint pictures afterwards of Tapairu singing to school children during the day.

One of the village matriarchs took notice of his work.

“I’ve been told that an artist likes to depict a subject he loves,” she smiled.

“Um… Tapairu just makes a good subject,” The artist seemed to blush, “That’s all.”

Sean did wonder though which of the many suitors that seemed to want to attract Tapairu’s attention, Tapairu had given her heart to.

On the night of Sean’s birthday, many of the villagers gave Sean gifts.

Tapairu gave Sean a carefully wrapped and rather large present.

Sean opened it.

This was what he saw.

Sean then remembered the words of Father La Croix that she wanted to give the portrait of the Tahitian Sleeping Beauty as a gift to the man she wanted to marry.

Tapairu smiled happily at him.

Sean smiled happily back.

-A short story and
vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Sunday March 21st 2021.

Permalink 10 Comments

Renfield Reads Dr. Seuss Books To Children, Comments On Pope Francis and Reflects On Meghan and Prince Harry Interview

March 10, 2021 at 11:56 pm (books, Culture, Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, News, Romance, Television, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , )

British MP Renfield R. Renfield spent the morning reading live on-air to British schoolchildren the 6 books by Dr. Seuss that would no longer be published by Dr. Seuss Enterprises because they were deemed highly offensive, extremely insensitive and politically incorrect by America’s easily offended, psychotically oversensitive and politically correct cancel culture of woke zombies.

After the live-on air reading, Renfield left the studio where he was greeted by a highly irate member of Britain’s own politically correct cancel culture of woke zombies.

“How dare you,” the man foamed at the mouth, “read, as a member of Britain’s House of Commons and therefore a public servant, books that have been deemed cancelled by us the cancel culture?”.

The man regained consciousness several hours later after his face had come into sudden and immediate very close contact with Renfield’s fist.

Renfield went to his parliamentary office where his secretary told him that the U.S. Ambassador to London was once again phoning to complain about the number of times Renfield had referred to U.S. President Joe Biden as an “idiot” and a “senile old fool” the past week.

Renfield had also received a phone call from U.S. actor Tom Hanks’ agent.

In a recent interview, Renfield was asked about Tom Hanks being recently granted Greek citizenship, and the MP replied, quoting a San Francisco blogger he read, “Didn’t Greece recently legalize pedophilia?”.

Renfield went into his inner office where he had a Skype conversation with his good friend Amadeus Emanon who was currently residing in Australia.

“Did you hear,” Amadeus asked, “that Pope Francis was complaining to reporters on the plane ride back from Iraq (reporters all of whom had received the DeathVaxx vaccine in order to be allowed on the plane) that some people call him “an idiot and a heretic”? Did you hear his complaining about that?”.

“I did,’ Renfield lit a cigar.

“Haven’t you on numerous occasions called Pope Francis an idiot and a heretic?” Amadeus inquired.

“I have,” Renfield nodded.

“Some people are now saying that Pope Francis has initiated the official start of the Mystery Babylon religion that was prophesied in Chapter 17 of the Apocalypse of Saint John,” Amadeus pointed out.

“Well Pope Francis did hold an interfaith service at the site of the temple of Inanna the ancient Sumerian goddess of prostitution (whose Babylonian, Assyrian and Akkadian equivalent was Ishtar) the goddess who’s considered the Mother of Harlots so his use of symbols and symbology used throughout this trip was extremely interesting to say the least,” Renfield sipped a small glass of brandy.

“Did you get a chance to watch the Meghan Markle and Prince Harry interview with Oprah?” Amadeus asked.

“I did,” said Renfield, “I was talking to a friend of mine who has been diagnosed with clinical depression and has felt suicidal a few times in his life and he’s very disturbed with the way Meghan was not offered help by the Royal Family when she herself was feeling suicidally depressed while pregnant with Archie and was further told she should not seek out help because members of the Firm aren’t supposed to do so.
They’re supposed to keep a stiff upper lip and all that.”

“Didn’t Prince Andrew keep a stiff something else with a few underage female proteges of Jeffrey Epstein?” Amadeus inquired.

“He did,” Renfield nodded, “And then during the interview it appears there’s at least one member of the Royal Family who’s racist and expressed concern about what skin tone colour baby Archie was going to have. Oprah said that Prince Harry made it clear that it wasn’t his grandmother the Queen or his grandfather Prince Philip. But another member of the Royal Family.”

“Any idea who that member of the Royal Family might be?” Amadeus wanted to know.

“Well, I have a few suspects in mind but nothing definite,” Renfield answered.

“I wonder if we’ll ever know,” Amadeus pondered.

“Well, if Harvey Tallbanger ever finds out and I’m told he’s currently investigating the matter,” Renfield finished his brandy, “and we hear about a member of the British Royal Family getting a cream pie in the face in public thrown at them by an invisible entity over the next few weeks, we can safely guess that was probably the one who had their knickers in a knot over what little Archie’s skin tone colour might be.”

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Wednesday March 10th
2021.

Permalink 30 Comments

Hera and The Gangsters

March 1, 2021 at 11:39 pm (Arts, Culture, Entertainment, Ghost Story, Mythology, Plays, Romance, The Supernatural, theatre, Theatre Arts, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , )

The Greek goddess Hera starring in a 1930s Broadway play about gangsters

It was the decade of the 1930s.

And the Greek goddess Hera was honing her theatrical skills by starring in a Broadway play about gangsters.

It was dress rehearsal night – the evening before the official opening.

Hera was awaiting the arrival of the gangster boss Big Frank Malone.

A man came on stage wearing a fedora hat and gangster suit and carrying a big violin case.

Hera, speaking out of character, said, “You don’t look like John Barrymore to me.”

“I’m afraid John is a bit under the weather tonight,” the understudy replacement for John Barrymore replied.

“How many bottles did he have to drink today?” Hera asked.

“You know the real Barrymore obviously,” Dracul Van Helsing, who had time travelled from the future and was now playing the role of Big Frank Malone in this play about gangsters, replied.

“That’s funny,” the ghost of Orson Welles, who had likewise time travelled from the future, remarked as he sat in the front row, “I don’t ever recall John Barrymore starring in a play about gangsters.”

“He possibly drank before each performance and never made it to the stage,” Van Helsing noted.

“By Jove, I think you’re right,” Welles agreed.

“Please, don’t use one of my husband’s Roman names,” Hera stood up.

“I forgot,” Welles bowed, “I do apologize.”

Hera approached Van Helsing, “Well, Dracul, since you’ve come from the future to step in for the great John Barrymore, perhaps we can do an improvisational performance tonight.”

“And what improvisational performance did you have in mind?” Van Helsing inquired.

“How about making out here on the stage?” Hera smiled.

And Hera and Van Helsing did just that.

“Not again,” Welles’ ghost buried his ghostly head in his ghostly hands.

As Hera and Van Helsing made out, soon thunder and lightning flashed around the stage.

“And furthermore, I just would happen to be in the very theatre on the night the Greek god Zeus decided to attend a Broadway play,” Welles’ ghost sighed.

The next day a hangover stricken John Barrymore was asked what happened to the theatre as it lay in ruins.

“Well, I know people are once again going to say this was a hallucination brought on by too much drink on my part,” Barrymore commented, “but it was an angry and cuckholded Greek god Zeus who destroyed this theatre because his wife the Olympian queen Hera was making out with a mortal.”

The members of the New York press laughed and shook their heads.

And that was the reason history has no record of John Barrymore starring in a Broadway play about gangsters.

The ghost of radio announcer Paul Harvey appeared in front of the lightning produced charred ashes of the theatre and gave his usual radio show sign-off, “And now you know the rest of the story.”

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Monday March 1st
2021.

Permalink 6 Comments

Maria Orsic and The Turing Jukebox Computer

February 23, 2021 at 11:05 pm (Espionage, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, International Intrigue, News, Romance, Spy Tales, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , )

Maria Orsic and The Turing Jukebox Computer

Two rogue agents for MI-5 (although no one in MI-5 knew they were rogue agents) informed British Prime Minister Boris Johnson that the Occult and Paranormal Research Division of Interpol was aware of his midnight meetings with zombie nosferatu that were going on in the ballroom of the newly opened Imperial Aurora Hotel in London and that it might be a good idea if he ceased these meetings for the time being.

A spy for Interpol at 10 Downing Street informed Interpol agent Peter Whitstable the head of the Occult and Paranormal Research Division of the warning from the MI-5 rogue agents which inspired messy haired Boris Johnson (who was still unaware of the invention of the comb that had taken place centuries earlier) to cancel further meetings.

Whitstable thus called an end to the Interpol sting operation at the Imperial Aurora Hotel which would have exposed the Johnson-zombie nosferatu meetings.

The Lakota Sioux Princess Tanaka returned to her flat in central London (she had rented a room right in the Imperial Aurora Hotel which would have allowed her close contact to the ballroom).

Dracul Van Helsing likewise returned to his flat in East London.

And Yaldabaoth the Irish leprechaun was currently at the Set Enterprises laboratory recovering from a massive hangover having drunk the contents of 1001 bottles of Hendrik’s Gin which successfully brought him back from the dead for the 2nd time in two months.

Van Helsing was soon off another mission however.

This one with the ghost of Orson Welles.

Van Helsing and Welles were to use the Houdini-Tesla-Pantages-Welles-Lamarr Magic Lantern to travel back in time to the year 1953.

Apparently Whitstable’s contacts at NASA told him that the great mathematician Alan Turing (who had developed the computing machine that cracked the Enigma Nazi Code) had in 1953 developed a computer whose purpose was to pick up signals from extraterrestrial life forms in the universe.

The computer for whatever reason was hidden inside a jukebox on a table in the office of a Chelsea cafe.

And then disappeared mysteriously just as MI-5 agents raided the cafe.

Now it was believed to be in the home of a Havana Cuba based Neo-Nazi billionaire Robur Pike according to the visions of DARPA’s psychic lobster Van Gogh’s All Hearing Ear (who was a distant cousin of Set Enterprises’ psychic lobster Michelangelo).

When asked for his analysis, Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster typing on his own waterproof laptop computer said that the Turing jukebox computer had been stolen in 1953 by the vampire Franz Kohler of the Nazi SS Ahnenerbe Occult Bureau.

Kohler had, according to Michelangelo, time traveled from this month and this year back to 1953 to steal the Turing jukebox computer just before MI-5 agents arrived at the Chelsea cafe to take control of the machine.

The solution was to send a time traveler back in time to grab the Turing jukebox computer before Kohler could do so.

Thus Van Helsing and Welles were on their way back to that Chelsea cafe in ’53.

Arriving on the scene, Van Helsing and Welles came face to face with:

Maria Orsic and The Turing Juke Box Computer

Maria Orsic was an immortal.

She was a medium who had been head of the German Vril Society.

Van Helsing had met her on a time traveling mission before when the vampire hunter had time traveled back to Washington DC in the late 1930s.

Welles’ ghost had recalled that Van Helsing had made out with Maria Orsic on that occasion.

“So, Van Helsing,” Maria Orsic smiled at him, “I suppose you’re hear to steal the Turing Jukebox Computer before the vampire Franz Kohler of the Nazi SS Ahnenerbe Occult Bureau arrives on the scene?”.

“I am,” Van Helsing nodded.

“But I think I better spank you first,” Maria produced a rather sturdy wooden hairbrush.

“I think you’re right,” Van Helsing started taking his clothes off.

“Not again,” Welles’ ghost moaned as he buried his ghostly head in his ghostly hands.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday February 23rd
2021.

Permalink 6 Comments

If Ed Wood Jr. Had Directed Casablanca

February 15, 2021 at 11:53 pm (Comedy, Culture, Film, Movies, Romance, Vampire novel) (, )

Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster was having a dream about what would have happened if the famed 1950s corny sci-fi and horror film director Ed Wood Jr. had directed the 1942 film Casablanca instead of Michael Curtiz.

Michelangelo entered the old time movie theatre carrying his large popcorn and large Coke just at the moment of the film’s climatic ending.

Michelangelo took a seat in the front row so that no tall idiot could sit in front of him.

This is what he saw:

Rick: Ilsa, I thought you were getting on a plane.

Ilsa: So did I, Rick. But all that seems to be here is this wheelbarrow.

Rick: I knew I shouldn’t have sent you to one of those fly-by-night Casablanca travel agencies. They promise you the world and give you one of those washroom cubicles.

Ilsa: Oh, Rick. What should I do?

Rick: Where’s your husband Victor Laszlo?

Ilsa: He came down with food poisoning after eating in your Cafe Americain, Rick.

Rick: Damn. I told the chef to “Cook it again, Pam.”

Ilsa: It looks like the only way to Lisbon is in this wheelbarrow, Rick.

Rick (looking at his watch): You better get started then, Ilsa. It’s going to take a long time floating in the Mediterranean past the Straits of Gibraltor and then up part of the Atlantic coast to reach Portugal. I don’t know how far it is to Lisbon from the Portuguese coast. Geography was never my strong point. That’s why I wasn’t so successful running guns during the Spanish Civil War by going to South Africa instead of Spain.

Ilsa: But do wheelbarrows float, Rick?

Rick: I don’t know, Ilsa. Archimedes and his theory of water dispersal was never my strong point either. That’s why I have to have a lifeguard standing by every time I take a bath.

Ilsa (throwing her arms around Rick): Oh Rick, I can’t leave you.

Rick: Listen, Ilsa, if you don’t get into that wheelbarrow, you’ll regret it. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But someday and soon.

Ilsa (with tears in her eyes): But what about us, Rick?

Rick: We’ll always have Paris.

Ilsa: Where you stuck me with paying the check?

Rick: Where I stuck you with paying the check.

Ilsa: I hope I won’t regret this, Rick. (Gets into wheelbarrow)

Rick: You won’t regret it, Ilsa.

Ilsa: I’m starting to regret it already, Rick. This wheelbarrow is loaded with wet cement.

Rick: What the- ?

Ilsa: And the cement seems to be rising, Rick. It’s burying me alive.

(Captain Louis Renault of the Vichy French Police Casablanca Division arrives on the scene)

Captain Renault: Well it appears our Ilsa Lund has become a hardened criminal.

Rick: Hardened yes. But I don’t think a criminal.

(The rest of the Vichy Police Force Casablanca Department arrive)

Captain Renault (blowing his whistle): Men, our would be escaped refugee Ilsa Lund has become a concrete case. Round up the usual suspects.

(The police head off to round up the usual suspects)

Captain Renault: You know, Rick, I’ve always been wanting a statue by the fountain in my back yard garden. I’ll pay you 10,000 francs if you wheel this wheelbarrow down to my garden and place Ilsa there next to the fountain.

Rick (picking up the two handles of the wheelbarrow): You know, Louis. This could be the start of a beautiful friendship.

(Rick pushing the wheelbarrow and Captain Louis Renault depart together into the foggy mist filled night).

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Monday February 15th
2021

Permalink 10 Comments

Valentine’s Day 2021 – 75th Anniversary of Release of Rita Hayworth’s Gilda

February 14, 2021 at 11:33 pm (Arts, Culture, Entertainment, Film, History, Movies, Romance, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , )

It was 75 years ago today that the 1946 film Gilda starring Rita Hayworth was released.

The ghost of Orson Welles was sitting in an armchair in a reflective mood as he sat there sipping a spectral glass of spectral red wine.

“A penny for your thoughts,” said Renfield R. Renfield as he sat in an armchair sipping a brandy.

“He’s probably sitting there thinking it’s Valentine’s Day Night and none of us have a date this evening,” Dr. Marmalade Montague quipped as he sipped a cognac.

In the guest lobster tank in the living room of the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set’s London mansion, Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster held up a sign that asked WHEN SHALL WE FOUR LOSERS MEET AGAIN? IN THUNDER, LIGHTNING OR IN SPAIN?

“I think that’s supposed to be rain not Spain,” Renfield remarked.

In the kitchen, Athelstan the butler could be heard singing the song, “The rain in Spain stays mainly on the plain…”

“Remember to remind me never to fly over Spain,” Renfield commented.

“I don’t think it’s that type of plane,” Montague observed,” “I think it’s plain as in flat grassland not the object that flies through the air.”

Welles’ ghost was brought back to the present by the sheer inanity of the current conversation.

“I was just thinking that it was 75 years ago today that the movie Gilda starring my then wife Rita Hayworth was released,” Welles wiped away a spectral tear.

“That was considered her greatest role wasn’t it?” Renfield asked.

“It was,” Welles blew his ghostly nose in his spectral handkerchief as tears continued to fall down his cheeks and beard like Niagara Falls.

Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster pulled his waterproof guitar out of his waterproof suitcase and started playing the song Put The Blame On Mame.

“That song was from the movie Gilda wasn’t it?” Dr. Marmalade Montague asked.

“It was,” Welles’ ghost wiped away another spectral tear from his eyes.

“I don’t want to come across as being insensitive or anything,” Renfield adjusted his t-shirt that said THEY DON’T CALL ME LOUT FOR NOTHING, “but why are you bawling like a baby?”.

“Because less than 2 years after that film came out, Rita and I divorced,” Welles wiped away another tear, “Our marriage always was under somewhat a strain. Because as Rita herself said, “It’s tough being married to a genius’.”

“I’m sure that’s one problem Mrs. Justin Trudeau doesn’t have,” Renfield quipped.

“Anyways,” Welles continued, “After Gilda came out, Rita became a goddess in the public eye. And it’s tough for a mere mortal man to be married to a goddess.”

“I wonder if the reverse is true,” Dr. Marmalade Montague lit a pipe, “If it’s tough for a mere mortal woman to be married to a god.”

“Well there goes the Dan Brown hypothesis about who Mary Magdalene was married to down the drain,” Renfield reflected.

Meanwhile Nefertiti Galore the Estate’s guard cat had pulled the drain on the guest lobster tank much to Michelangelo’s discomfiture.

“Oh Rita, Rita,” Orson sobbed.

Welles’ mind returned to an earlier time.

When Rita played Gilda.

It seemed to be a far happier Valentine’s Day 75 years ago when Gilda was released.

For at that time, neither knew what the future held.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Sunday February 14th
2021.

Permalink 6 Comments

Next page »