The Inspector and The Baker’s Daughter

May 6, 2020 at 11:23 pm (Arts, Detective story, Geopolitics and International Relations, Gothic, International Intrigue, Literature, Mystery, News, Poetry, Spy Tales, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , )

The Inspector and The Baker’s Daughter


“Are you looking for something, Inspector?” The girl asked him.

A day began like any other for the Inspector
Yet no ordinary day 
These are no ordinary times
Covid-19 pandemic in world.

2 days ago police in Beijing
arrested a professor 
Chen Zhaozhi 
Former professor at the Beijing University of Science and Technology 
for calling Covid-19 
The Chinese Communist Party Virus

But Beijing’s arrest did not concern the French police detective 
What concerned the Paris police detective was a matter that concerned
The Paris Grand Orient Lodge
For British MP Renfield R. Renfield
had sent a confidential report today 
to a French and European politician
The Kraken who called himself Napoleon VI
The leader of the French Aquarian Age Bonapartist Party 

French President Macron had ordered surveillance of the Kraken’s
emails and text messages
And today Renfield had sent the Kraken 
a confidential report 
which was said to be from Five Eyes
The joint intelligence service of the U.S., Canada, Australia, New Zealand and the United Kingdom
The report claimed that the Covid-19 virus
Was indeed a virus that had accidentally escaped from the Wuhan Institute of Virology

At an emergency meeting of the Grand Orient Lodge
Isis, Osiris and Horus 
demanded to know 
whether the Renfield report 
was an actual copy of a Five Eyes 
Intelligence Report 
or whether the whole report was a 
piece of Renfieldian disinformation
designed to prevent Emmanuel Macron 
from ordering take out deliveries of Chinese food in Paris

A person that the Paris Police Inspector 
thought might know
was Marmalade Montague
a baker and a man 
from whom the Kraken bought 
his croissant rolls and Chinese hot steamed buns 

The Paris inspector himself used to buy his cinnamon buns from Marmalade Montague
Montague had recently been thrown out of his bakery 
for lack of payment of rent
due to decline in business 
during the Paris Covid-19 lockdown 
However the inspector decided to visit Montague’s apartment 
Perhaps the baker still lived there
As the building’s landlord had died 
from the Covid-19 virus and his estate was still up in the air

The Inspector entered the apartment
As he passed by the kitchen, he noticed hot cinnamon buns lying on the counter
So the inspector stopped and ate one
He ended up eating all 6 dozen.

The Inspector received a text message on his smart phone 
saying that Marmalade Montague kept poison in his bathroom medicine cabinet.
He went to check out the medicine cabinet 
The bathroom door was still open 
And that’s when the Inspector noticed Marmalade Montague’s lovely daughter Irene
sitting in a chair 
in a corner of the living room 

“Are you looking for something, Inspector?” The girl asked him.

“I was told your father kept poison in his medicine cabinet,” the inspector replied.
“He did but it’s no longer there,” Irene told him.
“Where is it?” The inspector asked.
“I added it to my dad’s recipe for his famous cinnamon buns that I left on the kitchen counter,” Irene answered.

The Inspector never did show up to that evening’s non-social distancing meeting of the Grand Orient Lodge.
A copy of Edgar Allan Poe’s short story Murders In The Rue Morgue was sent to the meeting
with a notation on the page 
before the title page 
that this was where the Inspector was to be found.

-A narrative poem
and vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Wednesday May 6th
2020.

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Lepardia Marango and Harvey Tallbanger At Donald Trump Press Conference

March 21, 2020 at 10:57 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, News, Spy Tales, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , )

Lepardia Marango and Harvey Tallbanger At Donald Trump Press Conference

NBC News White House correspondent Peter Alexander had asked Donald Trump the question regarding the Coronavirus crisis, “What do you say to Americans who are scared?”.

Trump replied, “I’d say you are a terrible reporter.”

Both British MP Renfield R. Renfield and the London based billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set felt that Trump should be given a come uppance for this stupid ass remark.

Especially since Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster had had a vision in his lobster tank at Set Enterprises yesterday morning that Trump would soon declare martial law and say that this fall’s Presidential election would be postponed indefinitely because of the Coronavirus which the racist bozo in the Oval Office kept calling the “Chinese virus”.

All that was needed for Trump to act was if he fell behind either Joe Biden or Bernie Sanders in the opinion polls.

Thus Set Enterprises’ secret agent Harvey Tallbanger (a 6 ft. 8 tall Welsh pooka bunny rabbit who was invisible most of the time) went over to America along with Renfield and Dracul Van Helsing’s friend Lepardia Marango the cultural attaché at the South African Embassy in London.

They flew across the ocean in Set’s high speed environmentally friendly dirigible airship that had been invented by Dr. Cadbury Rocher.

The high flying supersonic eco-friendly airship was powered by legalized Canadian cannabis.

Thus it flew quite high and quite fast.

Although munchies’ snacks had to be fed constantly to the airship’s underbelly.

Tallbanger (who had shapeshifted into a human being news journalist who was visible) bearing press media credentials from TCM (Turner Classic Movies) went to the next White House press conference accompanied by Miss Lepardia Marango.

Tallbanger posed the same question to Trump that Peter Alexander had, “What do you say to Americans who are scared?”.

Trump’s snitty response was the same, “I’d say you are a terrible reporter.”

To which Tallbanger responded, “And I’d say you are a terrible President, you limpwristed jackass.”

Trump foamed at the mouth, “What, how dare you talk that way to me, the greatest world leader in world history?! Secret Service, arrest this man and charge him with high treason.”

Tallbanger then took a cream pie out from under his jacket and went up and threw it in the Donald’s face.

As Trump lay on the floor with his face and toupee covered in a combination of banana cream, coconut cream and shaving cream, he screamed, “Did you see what that insidiously evil individual did to me? Shoot him on the spot.”

Tallbanger shapeshifted into tall invisible bunny rabbit form and sneaked away.

Lepardia Marango met up with him in the Washington DC parking lot where Set’s eco-friendly cannabis pot fuelled dirigible was parked.

-A vampire novel chapter 
written by Christopher
Saturday March 21st
2020

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Leya

January 18, 2020 at 11:53 pm (Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, Gothic romance, International Intrigue, Mystery, News, Spy Tales, The Occult, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , )

Leya

Back on July 7th 2013, Welsh werewolf Magog Rhys Petley (then a British Labour MP at the time) had made out with the ancient Babylonian vampiress Lilith in a maternity ward in the West Bank town of Bethlehem.

9 months later, Lilith gave birth to a baby girl.

The girl she handed over to Dr. Nicht Werhoffen a scientist for the Russian FSB (who had previously worked for the East German Stasi prior to the fall of the Berlin Wall).

Dr. Werhoffen put the baby in a test tube and had accelerated her growth so she reached adulthood within the space of 6 months.

He then sent her to spy on the Israeli Mossad so that Russia could see what the Israelis were up to.

Leya was put in to serve as a stenographer to Jeffrey Epstein who ran a notorious child sex trafficking ring in the U.S. designed to blackmail American politicians of all political stripes to serve Israel’s interests.

Epstein being the horny predatory bastard that he was tried to make his own moves on Leya but she had the ability to shapeshift into a wolf (from a DNA gene she inherited from her father the Welsh werewolf Magog Rhys Petley) and bit the Mossad operative where it hurt the most.

When Epstein was arrested on July 6th of last year on federal charges for the sex trafficking of minors in Florida and New York, Leya found herself out of a job as a stenographer.

She left both the Mossad and the FSB and went to the United Kingdom where she knew her father had lived.

Her mother Lilith had wanted nothing to do with her.

So now she decided to track down her father.

All she knew of him was that he had once been a British Member of Parliament.

She ended up bathing in the waters off the coast of Cornwall during the last wolf moon back on January 10th of this year.

She had been told by a London gypsy seer and medium Dulcinea Lucia that her father generally bathed in the waters off the coast of Cornwall on the night of the Wolf Moon but there was no sign of him.

Dulcinea Lucia was not mistaken.

Magog Rhys Petley usually did do that.

But not this year.

As he had to move his private eye office (which he partnered with former British Conservative MP Agathor Christie) to a cheaper location in London at the time of the Wolf Moon.

The song Leya sang to herself that lonely night of the Wolf Moon in the cold Cornish coastal waters:

Where are you, Dad?
I thought you’d be here

On this cold and lonely night 
I wanted to hold you tight 
Tell me who I am, where I’m from
On this night of crystal frost
I look into the sky, seeming lost 

I see your face in the moon
Wish I could feel your presence soon
And now I turn, I turn into you
I cry, I cry out loud 

On this night of mist and cloud
Where, oh where? You’re not there
These tears of salt, an ocean to spare 
This loneliness, it drives to despair

It’s been said, this too shall pass 
This emptiness, it will not last 

I will now head to the shore 
Devoid of the hope I held before, 
The moon it shines sending its beams
But on this night, it casts shadows on my dreams.

-A vampire novel chapter
and poem 
written by Christopher
Saturday January 18th
2020.

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A Julian Calendar Christmas Day In Mar-a-Lago

January 7, 2020 at 11:55 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, News, Spy Tales, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , )

A Julian Calendar Christmas Day In Mar-a-Lago

Yaldabaoth the Irish leprechaun sat reading the book The Guns of August by historian Barbara W. Tuchman as he was sitting in the lobby of the Mar-a-Lago resort in Florida.

It was a book recommended to him by his friend British MP Renfield R. Renfield.

He had watched an interview last night on BBC America of a BBC World News interview between anchorwoman Geeta Guru-Murthy and his friend Renfield.

Yaldabaoth had text messaged Renfield asking if there were any good books he could read which could enlighten him to the current world situation vis-a-vis Iran and the U.S.

Renfield had replied recommending Tuchman’s book The Guns of August as it could serve as an historical antecedent to the current world situation.

Yaldabaoth’s mother Sophia the Greco-Egyptian Gnostic goddess of wisdom would soon be joining him for dinner.

Meanwhile up at the lobby desk, a very beautiful and very sexy (in Yaldabaoth’s opinion) woman who called herself Dolly Castro was talking to the resort manager.

“Yes, I sent the President a photo of yourself and also what you’re currently wearing and he says he’s very ready to meet you,” the manager said, “but before he invites you to the White House for a one-on-one meeting, he wants to know, since you have the last name of Castro, if you’re at all related to an infamous Castro. ”

The woman frowned.

“So,” the manager asked, paraphrasing Sen. Joe McCarthy, “Are you now or have you ever been related to Julian Castro?”.

Julian Castro was a former candidate for the U.S. Democratic Party Presidential nomination who had recently withdrawn from the race. 

He had also served in Barack Obama’s cabinet as Secretary of Housing and Urban Development.

“No,” Dolly Castro smiled, “I’m not. Nor have I ever been.”

“All right,” the manager smiled, “he’s officially invited you to the White House then. I understand you have a gift you’re bringing him?”.

“Yes,” Dolly smiled, “It’s a new type of Australian harmonica. Invented by a notable Australian eccentric named Uncle Ernie.”

. . .

In the resort’s main dining room, Sophia was discussing with Yaldabaoth a woman named Bella Dodd whom she had met in the U.S. back in the 1950s.

Bella Dodd had been a member of the American Communist Party back in the 1930s and 1940s.

She had converted back to Roman Catholicism in the early 1950s (she had been Catholic in her childhood and her youth) after taking classes from then Monsignor Fulton J. Sheen (a notable Roman Catholic preacher on both radio and television).

Bella Dodd had told Sheen about how she had been given an assignment by Joseph Stalin himself back in the 1930s.

Stalin had a plan to destroy the Catholic Church by getting Communists to infiltrate their seminaries and becoming priests and eventually bishops and hopefully even Cardinals.

Dodd was asked to recruit Communist men for Catholic seminaries in the U.S.

She was told by her Soviet handler to get men who were not only Communist but homosexual as well since men with those sexual proclivities had been found to be very useful to the Communist cause in terms of infiltration and espionage.

Seeing as how Bella Dodd was an extremely attractive woman when she was younger, she should have no trouble determining which potential recruits were indeed homosexual.

A lot of Dodd’s recruits were ordained by Francis Spellman who was Archbishop of New York from 1939 until his death in 1967.

Spellman who was homosexual himself (although not a Communist) needless to say showed a surprising affection for Dodd’s recruits (although he did not know they were Dodd’s recruits).

From Spellman’s patronage, a lot of these homosexual recruits formed a sort of Spellman Apostolic Succession in the U.S. Catholic Church becoming leading priests, bishops and cardinals.

The successors of Spellman’s pink affections for closet reds make up a large proportion of the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops today.

A lot of these original Dodd recruits and the men they recruited had sexual proclivities not only gay but in particular a hankering for altar boys and young seminarians.

The most notorious of which was the Communist homosexual Theodore (ex-Cardinal) McCarrick who negotiated the pact signed between the Vatican and Xi’s Communist China that sold out the Underground Catholic Church in China telling those worshippers to place themselves under Xi’s state controlled church.

In addition to selling out China’s underground Catholics, McCarrick also buggered several altar boys and seminarians during the course of his long undistinguished ecclesiastical career.

McCarrick, who had been under Pope Francis’ personal protection, was only finally reprimanded and laicized when his crimes became public.

Of course if you’re a devout Chinese Catholic woman, you’ll earn yourself a very violent slap on the hand from Pope Francis right in public if you wish to discuss the persecution (that Catholics in China are still facing) with the pontiff while you’re waiting in a public audience line.

The next day the so-called Successor of Peter would mention how abhorrent violence against women is.

Yet another example of the Neo-Bolshevik Francis’ “do as I say not as I do” attitude.

-A vampire novel chapter 
written by Christopher 
Tuesday January 7th
2020.


Sophia the Greco-Egyptian Gnostic Goddess of Wisdom had many men ogling her when she visited New York City in the early 1950s.
Save of course for New York’s Francis Cardinal Spellman who was ogling the man directly behind her.

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Renfield’s Skating Party

December 7, 2019 at 11:59 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, Spy Tales, Vampire novel) (, , , , , )

Renfield’s Skating Party

After having spent the previous night on the Norwegian island of Spitsbergen, British MP Renfield R. Renfield returned to his constituency of Tewkesbury In The Cotswolds to begin his last week of campaigning before next week’s UK General Election.

Tonight he would be hosting a skating party with hot chocolate and marshmallows on a skating pond not far from the town of Tewkesbury.

“It will be nice to see you on skates,” Angelique Dumont remarked to Renfield.

“Actually I won’t be skating,” Renfield said, “I’ll be standing at the back of a one horse open sleigh and handing out cups of hot chocolate and marshmallows to constituents.”

“But we told the local papers you’ll be skating to the music of Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake when it is played on the pond’s speakers,” Amadeus noted.

“Why the heck did you do that?” Asked Renfield as he turned pale.

“You had once told a Russian ballerina back in the summer of 2016 when you were reading Hillary Clinton’s emails with her at the Russian Underground Spy Academy in Kiev that you had once skated to the music of Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake,” Amadeus pointed out.

“But I just said that to impress her,” Renfield protested, “I don’t know how to skate.”

“Well, this should prove interesting,” Angelique commented.

Later down at the frozen pond, Amadeus and Angelique pushed Renfield on his skates to get him started.

Renfield went screaming and flying and skated straight into a bunch of American CIA agents sent to assassinate him.

He took all the assassins out with one blow as he sent them flying into the snow bank.

Angelique and Amadeus then got Renfield back up and sent him skating again.

Likewise the ineptly skating Renfield skated straight into a bunch of Russian FSB agents sent to assassinate him taking them all out with one blow as he sent them flying into another snow bank.

Angelique and Amadeus once again got Renfield back up on his skates and pushed him on to the ice again.

This time the ineptly skating Renfield skated straight into a group of Vatican based Jesuit assassins and likewise took them all out with one blow sending them flying straight into a snow bank.

“Bravo! Bravo! Great performance!” The spectators applauded thinking that Renfield’s botched skating attempt of Swan Lake and the botched assassination attempts were all a pre-planned part of the show.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday December 7th
2019.

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Saint Nicholas’ Night In Spitsbergen

December 6, 2019 at 11:56 pm (Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, Spy Tales, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , )

Saint Nicholas’ Night In Spitsbergen

The Set Enterprises jet landed down at the Spitsbergen International Airport.

On board were British MP Renfield R. Renfield, his friend Amadeus Emanon, members of Renfield’s personal British Army Brigade of Gurkhas and the pot smoking desert cactus plant Strawberry Fields Forever.

Strawberry Fields Forever had been flown to Spitsbergen for safe keeping since Xi Jinping had placed a death edict on him.

Renfield was dressed in the robes of and wearing the mitre of an Eastern Orthodox bishop.

He was also sporting a huge white beard and carrying a bishop’s staff shepherd’s crook.

“Tell me again why you’re dressed like that?” Asked Amadeus.

“Just on the off chance anybody asks, I’m Saint Nicholas the Bishop of Myra here to deliver a gift to the Frozen North Orleans Jazz Cafe in Spitsbergen,” Renfield answered as he practiced his knockout the heretic Arius at the Council of Nicaea punch.

“And the gift is Strawberry Fields Forever?” Amadeus asked.

“Exactly,” Renfield nodded.

When the plane finally halted, Renfield got off the plane in his bishop’s robe and gave his Apostolic episcopal blessing on the frozen wasteland.

Renfield imparted the Sign of The Cross blessing and said, “Ho-te-deum. Ho-te-deum. Ho-te-deum.”

“What does that mean?” Amadeus inquired.

“That’s Ho-Ho-Ho in Latin,” Renfield grinned underneath his beard.

“But I thought Saint Nicholas was a Greek bishop,” Amadeus noted.

“Oh shut up, Amadeus,” Renfield tripped over his bishop’s staff shepherd’s crook and went tumbling down the plane stairs.

“And I just text messaged J.K. Rowling,” Amadeus looked at his smart phone, “and she answered back right away. That isn’t how you say Ho-Ho-Ho in Latin.”

“I’ve got more important things to worry about,” Renfield stood up on his feet, “like I just froze my ass off hitting the ice on the airport tarmac.”

Suddenly a huge beam of light came down on the plane.

“This is Norwegian Immigration Authorities,” a voice said, “we want to see your identification papers.”

“We don’t have any,” Renfield answered back.

Suddenly a group of armed Norwegian Immigration officials surrounded them.

“We didn’t think you did Immigration checks here in the frozen wasteland of Spitsbergen,” Renfield called out, “We didn’t think you Immigration and Customs types enjoyed freezing your asses off.”

“We don’t,” said the snarky Immigration official, “we don’t enjoy freezing our balls off either if we had any. Mostly we’re at Customs and Immigration points where we harass tourists from Spain. But a psychic talking lutefisk on the King of Norway’s silver plate in his palace had a vision of a man dressed up as Saint Nicholas the Bishop of Myra up to no good on the island of Spitsbergen on the Night of the Feast of Saint Nicholas. That’s why we’re here.”

“No doubt, the psychic talking lutefisk also told you about the cartloads of illegal lutefisk we’re trying to smuggle into Spitsbergen in the cargo section of the plane,” said Renfield.

“What?” The Norwegian Immigration official immediately shit his pants which immediately turned to ice on this godforsaken frozen night, “Everybody unlock and search the cargo boxes.”

All the Norwegian Immigration officials immediately took the lids off the cargo crate boxes and dove in.

“But, Renfield,” Amadeus pointed out to his friend, “There’s no lutefisk in those crates. The Boss (the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set) stocked them with crocodiles to give Strawberry Fields Forever extra protection during his stay at the Frozen North Orleans Jazz Cafe.”

“Silly me, I forgot,” Renfield grinned sheepishly as the Norwegian Immigration officials uttered loud shrill piercing screams while they were eaten alive by crocodiles who were busy enjoying their first night in frozen Spitsbergen.

-A vampire novel chapter 
written by Christopher
Friday December 6th
2019.

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Trump Blasts “Two-Faced” Trudeau

December 4, 2019 at 10:57 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, News, Politics, Spy Tales, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , )

Trump Blasts “Two-Faced” Trudeau

British MP Renfield R. Renfield was sitting in a lounge in a London hotel and discussing the day’s NATO Summit events with his friends Mei-ling Manchu, Amadeus Emanon and Angelique Dumont.

“So I see Donald Trump, while he was in a press conference meeting with Angela Merkel this morning,” Amadeus bit into his nut spread and sauerkraut sandwich, “said that Justin Trudeau was “two-faced”. What do you think of that description of the Canadian Prime Minister?”.

“Well, I suppose, since Justin Trudeau occasionally wears blackface,” Renfield answered, “Being “two-faced” might be an accurate description.”

“Doesn’t he also wear brown face and a turban when he’s pretending to be Aladdin’s genie?” Angelique Dumont inquired.

“And a green face when he’s pretending to be a Martian to impress giggling teen-aged pot smoking desert cactus girls?” Mei-ling Manchu added.

“I think Trump was angry because Justin Trudeau made fun of him in what the Canadian Prime Minister thought was a private conversation between himself, Boris Johnson, Emmanuel Macron and the Dutch Prime Minister at last night’s NATO banquet reception hosted by Her Majesty the Queen at Buckingham Palace, wasn’t he?” Amadeus downed his Earl Grey tea.

“Could be,” Renfield nodded, “although Set Enterprises’ secret agent Harvey Tallbanger reports that a man wearing blackface and a turban was seen walking on the terrace outside Melania Trump’s bedroom last night. And Harvey said Melania this morning left her room smiling like the Mona Lisa.”

“Like a moth to a flame eh?” Mei-ling quipped in reference to the U.S. First Lady’s fashion faux-pas at the Buckingham Palace reception last night.

“Speaking of flames, is the pot smoking desert cactus plant Strawberry Fields Forever going to be returned to Justin Trudeau?” Amadeus asked.

“Apparently not,” Renfield shook his head, “Set Enterprises is still worried about the threat posed to Strawberry Fields Forever’s life by Xi Jinping’s death edict written in medieval Imperial Mandaran – a scroll that Sydney Australia based billionaire Mr. Inn Lu was able to translate. And security on the Trudeau estate in Ottawa is pretty lax seeing as how it’s overseen by Sheriff Stonedwall Jackman the pot-smoking sheriff of the mystical hippy commune village of Calypso’s Bosom. Therefore Set Enterprises is moving Strawberry Fields Forever to the safety of a jazz cafe on the island of Spitsbergen. They don’t think that PRC Ministry of State Security operatives will want to freeze their asses off on an assassination mission in Spitsbergen.”

“From what I know of PRC Ministry of State Security operatives, that assessment is probably correct,” Mei-ling Manchu nodded.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Wednesday December 4th
2019.

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Shakespeare Said It Best: All’s Well That Ends Well

November 29, 2019 at 11:24 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, News, Romance, Spy Tales, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , )

Shakespeare Said It Best: All’s Well That Ends Well

“I wonder why Trump spent Thanksgiving in Afghanistan?” Amadeus asked his friend British MP Renfield R. Renfield.

“It was apparently decided at a meeting of the U.S. National Security Council this past Wednesday night,” Renfield explained, “They thought it would be safer for Trump to be in Afghanistan than for him to be dropping turkeys from a dirigible on to the heads of innocent passers-by who were visiting the Lincoln Memorial.”

“Why would hurling turkeys from a dirigible be a problem?” Amadeus asked as he ate his turkey sandwich and drank his Ocean Spray Cranberry Cocktail.

“You do know turkeys can’t fly, don’t you?” Renfield with a raised eyebrow asked Amadeus.

“They can’t?” Amadeus stopped eating his turkey sandwich momentarily.

“No,” Renfield snarled.

“Oh,” Amadeus answered with his usual brilliant grasp of the situation that would have sent legendary detective Sherlock Holmes hurling himself in exasperation from the 2nd floor window of 221B Baker Street had Amadeus lived with Holmes rather than Watson.

Renfield’s smart phone went off.

The MP talked and then said, “That’s very good news, Dr. Rocher. Thanks for calling.”

“What was Dr. Cadbury Rocher phoning about?” Amadeus asked as he spilled Cranberry Cocktail all over his white shirt.

“Dr. Rocher has been talking to a Sydney Australia based billionaire named Inn Lu the past week,” Renfield said, “According to Inn Lu, yesterday was an auspicious time mathematically speaking for time travellers to travel back in time and time travel back to Xinjiang China a few months ago and save the pot smoking desert cactus plant Strawberry Fields Forever from being murdered on Xi Jinping’s orders. Unfortunately our two volunteer time travellers the Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec and Dracul Van Helsing couldn’t use the Large Hadron Collider in Switzerland because that’s currently undergoing maintenance repairs as a result of the Hindu god Shiva taking disco dance lessons in the tunnel from John Travolta while William Shatner and those members of the Bee Gees who are still alive sang Saturday Night Fever songs backwards. Fortunately Set Enterprises owns a small working time tunnel in the Austrian Alps – the same locale used in the filming of The Sound of Music where ice glaciers and snow fields melted at the melodious voice of Julie Andrews as Maria dancing in the meadows. Dracul and Qonzilqointec had taken a small cactus from the Joshua Tree National Park north of Palm Springs California and substituted it for Strawberry Fields Forever in his holding cell in the re-education camp for transgendered Uighurs in Xinjiang only hours after the pot smoking cactus had told his PRC captors “Better dead than red” and Xi Jinping had given the orders for Strawberry Fields Forever’s wish to come true. So it was actually a Palm Springs north socialite cactus who was butchered by Mei-ling Manchu while Ho Babylon Minh video recorded it for Justin Trudeau. Strawberry Fields Forever is now back in the present and currently alive and well while a slice of a wealthy Palm Springs north socialite cactus is now in the possession of Xi Jinping’s gardener.”

“That’s wonderful news,” Amadeus took off his cranberry cocktail laced white shirt just as the matronly middle aged woman who ran the Tewkesbury Bed and Breakfast entered the room.

The sight of Amadeus with his shirt off caused the woman to swoon like a school girl and buckle at the knees and then collapse on to the floor.

“Now look what you’ve done!” Renfield cried out to Amadeus.

“Does this mean we’re not going to get scones and biscuits for high tea?” Amadeus asked.

Meanwhile a Set Enterprises pterodactyl drone flew to Australia to deliver the news to the pot smoking cacti twins Material Girl and Mellow Yellow that their father Strawberry Fields Forever was in fact still alive.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday November 29th
2019.

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Part 2 Mr. Inn Lu: International Man of Mystery

November 27, 2019 at 11:55 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, News, Spy Tales, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , )

Part 2 Mr. Inn Lu: International Man of Mystery

The reclusive Sydney Australia billionaire Mr. Inn Lu was being interviewed by a reporter for America’s Sci-Fi Channel.

“Well, Mr. Lu,” the reporter said, “I don’t know if our audience will believe that you are in fact a time traveler who was once a scientist, inventor and palace court official serving a Ming Dynasty Emperor in Beijing who got caught up in a time warp brought about when scientists at the CERN Large Hadron Collider in Switzerland had one too many martinis on the job before they started firing up the old inter-dimensional time tunnel and you suddenly found yourself in Sydney Australia in the year 1900. Or that you had developed a potion of immortality before you got caught in the time warp. But the story should be right up their Sci-Fi alley.”

“Always glad to help people find what’s up their alley,” Mr. Inn Lu smiled.

“And is your name really Inn Lu?” The reporter asked, “None of the professors of Medieval Chinese History we talked to found any record of a court official serving in a Ming Dynasty palace court who had the name Inn Lu.”

“My real name is a cosmic top secret,” Mr. Inn Lu continued to smile, “I have not told any Australian Security Intelligence Organization (ASIO) official what my real name is. Otherwise the whole world would know my real name by the next morning since ASIO operatives are such blabber mouths.”

“So how did you get the name Inn Lu?” The Sci-Fi Channel Reporter asked.

“Well when I suddenly found myself transported through time and place from the Ming Dynasty palace court in Beijing to Sydney Australia in the year 1900,” Inn Lu explained, “the first place I wound up was in a washroom in a beer parlour in Sydney. The first person who came through the washroom door at the time I made my cosmic arrival was someone whose name I later discovered was Goliath Rougechemin. When he saw me dressed in my resplendent Ming Dynasty court robes standing in the midst of the beer parlour washroom, he said to me, “How did a person like you come to be in the loo?”. Since I didn’t know English at the time, the only words I caught was “in” and “loo”. That suddenly became my name although I changed it to Inn Lu.”

“And we understand that the recent PRC Ministry of State Security official who defected from Communist China to Australia is hiding in one of your safe houses? The intelligence operative code named Wang Ho?” The Sci-Fi Channel reporter asked.

“That’s right,” Inn Lu nodded, “Although his code name was recently changed from Wang Ho to Wang Chung “for security reasons” or so the memo said. Actually the whole thing was supposed to be a top secret operation although ASIO operatives have been blabbing about the whole operation in the Comments sections of WordPress blogs all over the world so it isn’t so top secret anymore.”

“Well, we thank you for granting us this interview,” the Sci-Fi reporter smiled.

“Always a pleasure talking to members of the Press,” Inn Lu smiled back.

Inn Lu’s Samsung Galaxy smart phone went off.

A text message.

“Should I go?” The reporter asked, “Is the message top secret?”.

“Oh no,” Inn Lu shook his head, “It’s from a friend of mine. A rather eccentric character who calls himself Uncle Ernie. He’s worried because it suddenly occurred to him that a package of his special fruit gummy bears he sent out containing his 72 special and secret ingredients he might have inadvertently mailed to the wrong address. He may have sent it to the person’s place of work rather than his home address.”

. . .

Donald Trump entered the Oval Office of the White House.

He suddenly noticed something on his desk that he didn’t recall seeing before.

“Hm,” said Trump who just loved grabbing things, “Nice of one of my secret service agents to leave this bag of gummy bears lying around.”

Trump started eating the gummy bears.

Half an hour later, one of the Secret Service agents entered the Oval Office just as the Donald was standing on top of his desk flapping his arms as if they were bird’s wings and shouting, “Woo! Hoo! I can fly!”.

“Um… Mr. President?” Said the Secret Service agent, “Did you happen to see a bag of fruit gummy bears lying around? I accidentally left them behind.”

“They were on my desk,” the Donald smiled, “I ate them all.”

The Donald starts to sing in Stanley Holloway Alfred P. Doolittle fashion from My Fair Lady, “I’m getting impeached in the morning. Ding! Dong! The bells are going to chime! …. Pull out the stopper! Let’s have a whopper! But get me to the House on time!”.

“Um… Mr. President?” The Secret Service agent pointed outside the Oval Office window, “What’s a large dirigible airship doing landing on the White House lawn?”.

“I ordered it,” the Donald replied, “as part of an impromptu Thanksgiving Day parade in Washington DC tomorrow. I’m going to fly in it along with a whole bunch of turkeys tomorrow. Then 50 feet above the Lincoln Memorial, the turkeys and I will jump out of the dirigible and fly towards the ground.”

The Secret Service agent held in his hands an old magazine from the 1980s (he had been visiting a dentist’s office that afternoon).

And in the magazine was an interview with Donald Trump who said that one of his favourite TV shows of all time was WKRP In Cincinnati.

He told the magazine interviewer that he had watched every single episode of WKRP In Cincinnati except one.

The secret service agent said to himself, “What the Democrats so far have failed to do, missing a single episode of WKRP In Cincinnati may succeed.”

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Wednesday November 27th
2019. 

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Dwight Ball Gets A Cream Pie In The Face While Renfield Discusses Pope Francis’ Agony

November 26, 2019 at 11:57 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, News, Politics, Spy Tales, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , )

Dwight Ball Gets A Cream Pie In The Face While Renfield Discusses Pope Francis’ Agony

Set Enterprises’ secret agent Harvey Tallbanger an invisible 6 foot 8 tall Welsh pooka bunny rabbit who was also a good friend of noted Albertan and Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing had been visiting Canada quite a bit recently.

He had thrown a cream pie in Prime Minister Justin Trudeau’s face on Election Night when Justin had rudely interrupted Opposition Conservative Party leader Andrew Scheer’s televised concession speech by starting his own victory speech 38 seconds into Scheer’s concession speech.

Sometime later Harvey Tallbanger had thrown a cream pie into the face of Bloc Québécois asshole and separatist leader Yves-Francois Blanchet who said that western Canadian alienation was of no concern to him and the people of Alberta and Saskatchewan could go drown in their oil.

Later Tallbanger had thrown cream pies into the faces of Green Party Parliamentary leader Elizabeth May and former Progressive Conservative Prime Minister Kim Campbell for making air headed statements in television interviews.

He had also thrown a cream pie into the face of Vancouver Mayor Kennedy Stewart who said that there was no such thing as Western Canadian alienation – only Canadian Prairie province alienation (which was probably true) because pot smoking lower mainland British Columbians shared so much in common with the pot smoking Federal Liberal Party in Ottawa (also true).

Kennedy Stewart got a cream pie in his face from Harvey for sharing the same opinion of Albertans as the Bloc Québécois asshole leader.

Not to be outdone by the same coterie of airheads and assholes as those previously mentioned, Newfoundland and Labrador Liberal Premier Dwight Ball met with Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau and said that overcoming Canadian prairie province alienation shouldn’t be regarded as being a high priority on the Canadian national agenda.

After the meeting, Mr. Ball got a cream pie in his face from Harvey Tallbanger.

He also received a raspberry from Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster of Great Britain who did not think much of Newfoundland and Labrador’s lobster industry.

. . .

Donald Trump was sitting at his Oval Office desk when he was informed by one of his aides that the man he was planning to name as his National Security Council head next week (after firing the current NSC head in a Twitter tweet next week) – Mr. Eichmann Himmler the ICE agent extraordinaire (that was Trump’s description) had been eaten by crocodiles in a hotel swimming pool in Sydney, Australia.

“Bugger!” Trump threw aside a fountain pen that had once been given him by the recently laicized former Cardinal Theodore McCarrick.

“A group of U.S. Navy SEALS have entered the pool to try and recover what’s left of him,” the aide informed Trump and then left.

Trump picked up the phone and dialled a number, “Hello, Ivanka? You know how to use an encyclopedia for research don’t you? That’s great. Because I don’t. Listen, I want you to go to the encyclopedia and dig up whatever dirt you can find on crocodiles because I want to write a nasty tweet about them.”

. . .

Amadeus Emanon visited his friend British MP Renfield R. Renfield who was campaigning for re-election in the constituency of Tewkesbury In The Cotswolds.

“Did you see that video of Pope Francis listening to the Bishop of Nagano Japan playing the guitar at a late 1960s and early 1970s style hippy hootenanny Mass that was held in the Jesuit Pope’s honour on his recent visit to Japan?” Renfield asked Amadeus.

“No, I didn’t,” Amadeus answered.

“You should have seen the intense expression of agony on Francis’ face when that guitar was being played,” Renfield laughed, “I imagine it will be 2nd only to the intense expression of agony he’ll have on his face when he finds out his destination on Judgement Day.”

“I wonder who taught the Bishop of Nagano Japan how to play guitar?” Amadeus mused aloud.

“It was apparently William Shatner,” Renfield replied.

“I didn’t know William Shatner knows how to play guitar,” Amadeus was shocked.

“Yes, he apparently learned how to play guitar by playing Bob Dylan songs backwards to try to detect evidence of Klingon backwards masking,” Renfield explained.

As the words of William Shatner reciting Bob Dylan’s Mr. Tambourine Man filtered through the neighbourhood, dogs howled, cats screeched and the scream of the turtle was heard throughout the land.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday November 26th
2019.

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