Amadeus and Athelstan Listen To Renfield’s Sunday Night Podcast

May 23, 2021 at 10:34 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, News, Vampire novel) (, , )

British MP Renfield R. Renfield was doing his usual Sunday night podcast.

His friend Amadeus Emanon and Athelstan (the butler and valet to the London based billiinaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set) were watching and listening to the podcast on their respective mobile devices.

Read Renfield live on air at one point, “And here’s a couple of stories from the world of global military news.
North Korea is starting work on a new program of tactical nuclear weapons. And in the U.S., the U.S. Air Force has announced its plans to set up a Transgender Flying Academy to see how many drag queens they can get into the cockpits of B-52 bombers as quickly as possible.”

At another point, Renfield read, “Did you know that in terms of sheer percentage numbers, Covid-19 has a lower mortality rate than testifying (or threatening to testify) against the Clintons?”.

Renfield finished his podcast on a historical note, “Why was it a crime for President Richard M. Nixon to authorize a wiretap of the Democratic Party Headquarters at the Watergate Hotel but it was perfectly okay for President Barack Obama to wiretap Republicans at Trump Tower?”.

Both Amadeus and Athelstan reflected on the numbers of “woke” people who would wake up outraged by Renfield’s latest podcast.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Sunday May 23rd

Permalink 18 Comments

1st Video of The Resurrected Dragon Princess Lenora of Lemuria

November 8, 2018 at 11:53 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, Music, music videos, Mythology, News, Romance, Science-Fiction, The Supernatural, Vampire novel, Video, videos) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , )

The billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set was lying in his upright Egyptian sarcophagus in his colossal bedroom in his colossal London mansion drinking chai tea on a tray in front of him that was poured from a tea pot that resembled the Taj Mahal.

His cat Nefertiti Galore caught several vampiric flesh eating rats that had been sent into Set’s bedroom by his enemy siblings Isis and Osiris.

Set’s butler and valet Athelstan arrived to tell him how the Cousteau brothers’ marine archaeological expeditions (that Set was personally financing) were going.

Both Cousteau brothers Louis Alphonse and Toulouse (who were great nephews of the famous 20th Century French oceanographer Jacques Cousteau) had discovered the lost continents of Lemuria and Atlantis respectively the past couple of months.

In the South Pacific, Louis Alphonse Cousteau had discovered the glass coffin containing the perfectly preserved body of Lenora the last Dragon Warrioress Crown Princess of Lemuria in the sunken city of Mu the capital city of the lost continent of Lemuria.

Dr. Cadbury Rocher had sent a drone (in the shape of a mechanical pterodactyl) to the South Pacific (an object photographed and video recorded by various people who posted the pics to YouTube conspiracy channels devoted to the topic of NASA covering up the existence of dinosaurs in the modern world) containing a test tube of Dr. Cadbury Rocher’s Resurrection Serum – a combination of ambrosia (that kept the Greek Olympian gods immortal) dried tana leaves (like in the early 1940s Universal Pictures Mummy films that kept the mummy Kharis alive), dried eucalyptus leaves (whose fresh eucalyptus leaves keep koala bears alive) and dried Canadian recreational cannabis leaves (whose smoking and inhaling keeps Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau’s genetically created pot smoking desert cactus plant named Strawberry Fields Forever alive).

The serum when poured between Dragon Warrioress Crown Princess Lenora of Lemuria’s lips immediately brought her back from the dead.

Louis Alphonse Cousteau shot a video of the Lemurian Dragon Warrioress Princess doing her happy dance at being brought back from the dead:

The Dragon Princess wasn’t quite ready yet to show her face to the world.

After watching the video, Set then closed his sarcophagus lid.

Athelstan proceeded to do some dusting around the Egyptian vampire’s bedroom when suddenly he noticed a milky white substance overflowing from his Divine Vampiric Lordship’s sarcophagus.

“Good Lord!” Athelstan exclaimed, “Isis and Osriris have found a way to drown the master!”.

He immediately ran over and opened the sarcophagus lid.

“Close the f%!&*!ing lid, you idiot,” Set shouted as he was caught with his Hugh Hefner style red velvet pyjama bottoms down and his hands on the region between his hips.

“Sorry, sir,” Athelstan immediately closed the lid down, “I thought maybe your nephew Horus had come up with a way of Death By Kellogg’s Corn Flakes.”

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Wednesday November 8th

Permalink 16 Comments

Sora Aoi: Renfield’s Heartbreak

January 15, 2018 at 9:28 pm (Culture, Entertainment, Film, History, Movies, News, Romance, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , )

Sora Aoi: Renfield’s Heartbreak

The billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set sat in the chair of his living room and read a story in The Times of London about how millions of young Chinese males were heartbroken when they heard the news that Japanese porn star Sora Aoi was getting married.

“Can you imagine,” Set remarked to his butler and valet Athelstan who was busy dusting and polishing the furniture, “people becoming heartbroken over a porn star getting married?”.

“It positively boggles the mind, sir,” remarked Athelstan who polished the jar containing Donovan’s brain from the 1953 sci-fi film.

“What is this world coming to?” Set shrugged his shoulders.

“I was pondering the very same thing the other day, sir,” quipped Athelstan who had dropped a glass globe of the world the day before that had smashed into a thousand pieces.

“I think I shall retire to my library and read the works of Virgil in the original Latin,” Set put his paper down and headed upstairs.

“There’s nothing like Dido of Carthage killing herself on a burning funeral pyre to make one forget that a contemporary porn star is getting married, sir,” Athelstan discovered an unopened bag of marshmallows in the fireplace.

As Set entered the second floor of his mansion and walked down the hall, he thought he heard loud crying and sobbing coming from inside Renfield’s bedroom.

“Amadeus,” Set asked his personal concert pianist as he passed him in the hallway, “Is that Renfield I can hear crying through his bedroom door?”.

“Yes, boss,” Amadeus nodded, “Renfield’s been like that since this morning when he heard the news that Japanese porn star Sora Aoi is getting married.”

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Monday January 15th

Permalink 16 Comments

Sir Renfield and Sir Winston On New Year’s Day

January 1, 2018 at 10:44 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, History, News, Romance, Vampire novel) (, , , , , )

Sir Renfield and Sir Winston On New Year’s Day

Sir Renfield R. Renfield (who called himself that even though he hadn’t been officially knighted yet) had taken his oil painting of Sir Winston Churchill home with him from his MP’s office to his bedroom in the colossal London mansion of the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set.

As he opened up Churchill’s last bottle of brandy to have a drink, Churchill’s image left the painting and sat in the chair next to the fireplace in Renfield’s bedroom.

“So I hear congratulations are in order,” Churchill said over his spectral glass of brandy.

“You’ve heard about my knighthood?” Renfield smiled.

“Indeed,” Churchill nodded, “what were you knighted for if I might ask? I myself was knighted for having defeated Nazi Germany during the Second World War.”

“Well,” Renfield stuck out his chest, “I was knighted for having planned a British Brigade of Gurkhas raid on an ISIS Islamic State training camp in Libya. I had the Gurkhas tie homemade explosives to the terrorists’ tiny testicles and then had them detonated at the touch of a button.”

“There’s nothing like striking at the source of what makes a man a terrorist or a Nazi,” Churchill nodded approvingly.

Churchill then lit himself a spectral cigar with a spectral match and looked at Renfield.

“So,” Churchill blew spectral smoke, “I hear young Prince Harry is getting married.”

“He is,” Renfield smiled, “to Meghan Markle.”

“They seem to make a handsome, charming and loving couple,” Churchill looked at the photo of the couple on Renfield’s writing desk.

“They are,” Renfield agreed, “though there are some silly twits in Britain who disagree with Harry’s choice.”

“In heaven’s name, why?” Churchill’s gaze peered out over his spectral glass of brandy.

“Well, for one thing she’s American,” said Renfield.

“My mother Jennie Jerome was American,” Churchill snorted angrily.

“She was,” Renfield nodded.

“And then Meghan’s a divorcee,” said Renfield.

“Charles the current Prince of Wales is married to a divorcee,” Churchill almost spilled his spectral brandy and spectral cigar ash on his spectral gray pants, “Camilla Parker Bowles. These are no longer the days of Archbishop Lang of Canterbury who caused such a fuss when King Edward VIII wanted to marry American divorcee Mrs. Wallis Simpson back in the 1930s.”

“No,” Renfield agreed, “these are the days of Pope Francis who saw nothing wrong with my friend the Kraken having himself crowned Emperor Napoleon VI of France and his wife Medusa the ex-Gorgon being crowned Empress in Paris’ Notre Dame Cathedral.”

The late wartime British Prime Minister raised his ghostly eyebrows for he was not familiar with this bit of news.

“Any other reason why these twits should object to Meghan Markle?” Churchill asked.

“Her mother is African-American,” Renfield drew a Hitler moustache on a picture of former Louisiana politician and former Ku Klux Klan Grand Wizard David Duke in an American newsmagazine.

“My mother had Iroquois blood in her veins which meant I did as well when I was alive,” Churchill finished his spectral brandy and spectral cigar and walked back into the painting.

“Dinner is being served,” Athelstan the butler and valet called out to the household as he rang the gong downstairs.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Monday January 1st

Permalink 8 Comments

Dr. Cadbury Rocher and His Incredible Self-Driving Car

April 4, 2017 at 4:31 pm (Comedy, Entertainment, Humour, Science, Technology, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , )

Dr. Cadbury Rocher who was Set Enterprises’ chief resident scientist had just invented a self-driving motor vehicle- one he told his boss the London-based billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set was far more advanced and better than anything currently being tested or in production.

In fact as the ever enthusiastic Dr. Rocher pointed out to his boss Set (who was busy reading his copy of Anne Rice’s Ramses The Damned: The Passion of Cleopatra at the time and didn’t enjoy being interrupted), the new Rocher Le Pied de Hermes should probably go down in history as the greatest self-driving car ever invented.

Set wasn’t sure whether he wanted to personally finance the mass production, distribution and marketing of this new product the Rocher Le Pied de Hermes.

After all while some of Dr. Rocher’s ideas were brilliant, others were total disasters (such as his most recent attempt to genetically re-create the winged horse Pegasus of Greek mythology).

Dr. Rocher was insistent that his new product could easily hit the market this fall- the design and quality and ease with which it could be “mass manufactured” (Cadbury’s words as he ate a Cadbury Caramilk bar) were so “positively brilliant” (Rocher’s words as he ate a Ferrero Rocher).

Set agreed to a test of the new self-driving vehicle.

He’d bring along an important City of London investor Donald Mahatma Ahmad Campbell Singh Khan (whose personal results from a DNA test he took through’s DNA testing kit had astounded the entire world).

He would see if he could get the Campbell Singh Khan Investors’ Group to put up all the money for the mass production, distribution and marketing of the new self-driving Rocher Le Pied De Hermes.

Set would hold a 51% share of the new car company since it was his scientist who designed the car.

Campbell Singh Khan agreed to view the new vehicle in a road test before deciding to put up the risk money for the entire venture.

The day of the test came.

Dr. Cadbury Rocher wore racing goggles for the test (even though he wouldn’t be driving as the car would drive itself), Set was still busy reading his copy of the Rices’ new book Ramses The Damned: The Passion of Cleopatra, Campbell Singh Khan was busy eating a plate of Scottish haggis, chicken curry and fafa beans falafel, Renfield R. Renfield was busy eating tuna fish sandwiches, Amadeus Emanon appeared to be eating everything but the kitchen sink and Athelstan the personal butler and valet to Set was standing there holding a tea pot.

When the test was over, Dr. Cadbury Rocher, Set, Renfield, Amadeus and Athelstan had retired to a nearby pub in total shock.

Silence reigned at the pub table.

Finally Renfield broke the silence.

“Well,” Renfield spoke feeling somewhat sorry for himself, “I suppose the responsibility will fall on my shoulders to inform his widow Mrs. Campbell Singh Khan of the tragic circumstances of his death.”

“You can tell her he died for the advancement of science,” Dr. Rocher suggested.

“True,” Renfield nodded, “he will have had the honour of being the first person in recorded history to have been killed in a hit and run accident involving a self-driving motor vehicle.”

“Make sure you get her to sign a waiver saying she won’t sue Set Enterprises for gross negligence,” Set directed as he stared at his vampiric reflection in his glass of beer.

“I wonder how much food they’ll serve at the luncheon following his funeral,” Amadeus mused aloud.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday April 4th

Permalink 5 Comments

Turks In Jarablus Syria

September 8, 2016 at 1:39 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, International Espionage, International Intrigue, Mystery/horror, Mythology, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , )

Turks In Jarablus Syria

Turkish forces had crossed the Turkish-Syrian border into Syria to attack the town of Jarablus.

Ostensibly Turkey claimed it had done so to wipe out ISIS forces in charge of the town.

The western news media backed Turkey’s claim.

As Russian President Vladimir Putin watched the Turkish incursion into Syria on television, he did not believe the claim.

ISIS had been cleared from the town earlier this year by Russian planes and Syrian government troops.

Putin realized that now was the time to set in motion Operation Justinian.

He was glad he had visited the Mount Athos Monastery a few months back.

For Operation Justinian would require supernatural help.

Greek Prime Minister Alexis Tsipras received a phone call from Moscow.

Although Prime Minister Tsipras being an atheistic Marxist did not believe in the existence of the Supernatural, he thought Operation Justinian was a good idea.

In his colossal London mansion, the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set was on the phone discussing events in Syria with the mysterious individual who called himself Robur the Conquerer (after Jules Verne’s character).

“You’re right,” Set agreed and motioned to his butler and valet Athelstan to bring him a pen, “we should set those events in motion now.”

Meanwhile on the ground outside Jarablus, Turkish soldiers noticed the ground moving up and down in mysterious fashion.

“Do you see those sand dunes moving up and down?” One soldier asked another.

“Yes,” the other soldier nodded.

Then emerged from the sandy ground were men who were half-man and half-fish (mermen -the top part was human, the bottom part was fish).

The mermen carried machine guns with them and proceeded to wipe out the Turkish troops.

Flying high above the sight was the individual Robur The Conquerer who watched the scene unfolding below.

He quietly drank a glass of bourbon mixed with human blood.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Wednesday September 7th

Permalink 42 Comments

Set Sees An Optometrist

March 29, 2016 at 7:48 pm (Commentary, Culture, Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, Horror, Mystery/horror, Mythology, News, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , )

Set Sees An Optometrist

The billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set entered through the front door of his colossal London mansion.

His valet Athelstan stood there to put away his black top hat, his black cape and black jackal headed walking stick.

Set growled when, on the dresser at the entrance, he noticed the evening headline of The Times of London-Pope Francis Enjoys Eating Lebanese Donairs With Egyptian God Osiris At High Altar of Saint Peter’s Basilica.

“What’s that in your hand, Boss?” a donair eating Amadeus Emanon asked the billionaire Egyptian vampire as he entered the sitting room.

“It’s a prescription,” Set replied as he put the piece of paper down on a desk.

“Prescription?” Renfield R. Renfield looked up from the cup of Bavarian Magic Mushroom laced tea that he was drinking, “You doing drugs again, Boss?”.

“No, it’s an optical prescription,” Set answered, “from an optometrist. It’s a prescription for a new pair of glasses.”

“You need glasses, Boss?” Amadeus wondered where his dropped crumb of donair had got to against the background of the floor’s Persian carpet.

“Yes, I do,” Set snorted through his nostrils.

“Admittedly, sir,” Athelstan stated sympathetically, “the size of writing they use in Egyptian hieroglyphs these days leaves a lot to be desired.”

“You shouldn’t have got a prescription for glasses, Boss,” Renfield inhaled his tea the way an 18th Century English gentleman would have inhaled snuff, “you’d look much better with contact lenses.”

“And how am I suppose to put contact lenses in my eyes every night without looking like a post-paternity discovering and post-maternity discovering Oedipus Rex?” Set held up his 66 inch fingernails.

“Good point,” Renfield answered.

“Actually it would be a bad point,” Amadeus quipped, “if he tried putting a contact lens in his eye.”

Renfield blamed the magic mushroom laced tea for suddenly analyzing situations with the mental capacity of your average voter in rural British Columbia.

Amadeus sang Handel’s Hallelujah Chorus when he successfully found the crumb of donair on the Persian carpet.

“So Renfield, did you get that text message I sent you earlier this evening?” Set asked as he helped himself to a bowl of human fingers.

“I did, Boss,” Renfield acknowledged.

“What message was this, Boss?” Amadeus started filing his finger nails with his nail file.

“I ran into Sherrielock Holmes earlier this evening,” Set explained, “which reminds me, Athelstan, would you mind leaving a tube of medicinal ointment by my sarcophagus this morning and also ask my lovely Filipino nurse to be on standby to apply the said ointment to my said buttocks?”.

“Of course, sir,” Athelstan bowed.

“Getting back to the message,” Set proceeded to answer Amadeus’ question, “Sherrielock Holmes informed me that my nephew Horus was actually depicted in Egyptian hieroglyphs with the head of a hawk not a falcon. When I heard this, the thought hit me that I may have unjustly decapitated a back alley urinator the other night when I noticed a falcon headed spirit with an ancient Egyptian accent possessing his body. Sherrielock told me that it was actually the Egyptian moon god Khonsu who had the head of a falcon and so I thought maybe I had decapitated Khonsu’s earthly human vessel instead. I don’t want to alienate any other members in good standing of the Egyptian pantheon as I need all the allies I can get for my coming global war against Osiris and Isis and Horus. So I asked Renfield via text message who it was that had a falcon head among Egypt’s ancient deities and who had a hawk head? I asked him to do some research on the topic for me to illuminate me when I got home.”

“I went to the library and did some research on that very topic, Boss,” Renfield helped himself to a drumstick from a bucket of KFC, “but your illumination won’t come in the form of a membership application from the Illuminati as 99% of those members support the goals of Osiris and Isis and Horus in the coming global war.”

“That means I’m allied with Jesus of Nazareth of all people. How’s that for bloody irony?” Set spit a bloodied human hand (still holding on to a clothing iron) out of his mouth.

“Say, Boss,” Amadeus helped himself to the plate of crackers with caviar that Athelstan offered him, “surely you yourself should remember which deity had which head. Hawk or falcon? Horus or Khonsu? After all you’re taking the word of an admittedly extremely young looking and very attractive 162-year-old leather skirted dominatrix when you yourself are a vampire and Egyptian deity well over 3 millennia old and you knew these entities from the very beginning. Why text message Renfield to do research on the topic? Why not use your own memory?”.

“Because,” Set raged and foamed as he spit a mortal human tongue out of his mouth, “like I’ve always told you whenever you constantly ask me why I’m using 2 totally different colours of nail polish on each hand, I’ve been suffering from extreme dementia ever since I watched that A & E documentary on the lives of Paris Hilton, Lindsay Lohan and Kim Kardashian last year.”

“And that,” Renfield smiled, “is why the Boss no longer trusts his memory. That’s why he asked me to research the matter of Horus and Khonsu and who was hawk and who was falcon. That’s also why he’s asked me to manage his banking and chequing accounts as he goes through this difficult period.”

Amadeus looked out the window at the new BMW that Renfield had bought himself earlier this week and was now parked on the driveway.

“So,” Renfield put on his reading glasses and flipped through his notebook to read Set what he had discovered on this subject, “Apparently whether Horus was falcon headed or hawk headed depended on which hieroglyphs were being used in which district of Egypt. Horus was often depicted with the head of a falcon and in other places he was depicted with the head of a hawk. Even Khonsu (that Miss Sherrielock Holmes mentioned as being falcon headed) was depicted in many districts of Egypt as having the head of a hawk. So it all depended on which district of Egypt you were living in and what particular hieroglyphic image was being used.”

“I wonder what boiled tana leaves taste like,” Amadeus mused aloud about the variety of ancient Egyptian leaves that were used to keep the mummy Kharis alive in the Universal Pictures Mummy horror films of the early 1940s.

“So in your opinion, Renfield,” Set ignored the question posed by Amadeus’ filmographical botanical culinary musings, “which of those two deities was most likely to have a falcon head and which was most likely to have a hawk head?”.

“Well in my humble opinion,” Renfield adjusted his I’m The World’s Greatest Lover t- shirt, “it was usually Horus who was depicted as falcon headed most of the time and Khonsu who was depicted as hawk headed.”

“So then Sherrielock Holmes was wrong?” Set queried.

“Yes,” Renfield nodded, “but I wouldn’t say that aloud to her unless you wanted to have trouble sitting down for the next century.”

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday March 4th

Permalink 24 Comments

Renfield Views U.S. Election Campaign

February 17, 2016 at 9:12 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, News, Politics, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , )

Renfield Views U.S. Election Campaign

Renfield R. Renfield was examining the results of a public opinion poll on the race for the U.S. Presidency.

“I see you’re at 0.0% in the polls,” Amadeus was like Samson with a post-Delilah haircut addressing the victim of an over zealous circumcising rabbi- he was fond of pointing out his friend’s short comings.

“So I see,” Renfield blew out his Bourbon through his nose on to the computer screen.

Athelstan the valet arrived in the nick of time with Sherrielock’s Bavarian Magic Mushroom Cleaner Stain Remover to wipe the computer screen.

“Are you disappointed?” Amadeus started filing his fingernails with a nail file- a habit he picked up from watching Dr. Niles Crane a character on the American TV sitcom Frasier.

“Not at all,” Renfield replied, “Climb every mountain, follow every stream until you find your dream…”

Renfield was doing his best impersonation of Kevin Philipps Bong the Slightly Silly Party candidate from the famous Monty Python sketch.

Amadeus turned on the TV where they watched Anderson Cooper on CNN via satellite doing his in-depth analysis of the White House race so far.

“Some people have said that this particular Presidential race really can’t be parodied,” Anderson explained, “because it has become a parody in and unto itself.”

Anderson then looked directly into the camera, “But is that really a fair assumption?”.

Images from a Marco Rubio campaign ad saying “It’s morning again in America” showing the sun rising on the City of Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada to images of Hillary Clinton barking and yelping and howling like a dog while campaigning on stage at a rally in Nevada.

This was followed by images of Jeb Bush, Ted Cruz and Marco Rubio barking, yelping and howling like dogs on their respective campaign trails.

Never had the Pensacola Revival and the Toronto Blessing of North American Charismatic Pentecostal Christianity ever made such a major impact on the American political scene.

“The question of course is what will happen next in this Presidential campaign already unique in American history?” Anderson Cooper asked his viewers .

Images appear of Hillary Rodham Clinton on the campaign trail in South Carolina.

She’s on all fours and is standing dog like by a fire hydrant on a street corner in Charleston, South Carolina.

She is barking and howling at the moon.

Donald Trump comes running down the sidewalk on all fours with tongue hanging out and panting and howling at the moon.

Since Hillary is in the way of the fire hydrant, Donald lifts his lower right leg and takes a piss all over her.

Vladimir Putin and his aide are likewise watching this spectacle on the television in the Russian President’s Kremlin office.

“Well,” his aide pointed out, “your most exalted future Byzantine Emperor and Russian Czarist Majesty, there’s probably never been a more opportune moment in history to invade and conquer America than now.”

“What you say is true,” Putin poured himself some more tea from the samovar on his desk, “but after seeing this, the question is… is this really a land and a people worth conquering?”.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Wednesday February 17th

Permalink 15 Comments

Renfield and The Modigliani Painting

November 10, 2015 at 8:43 pm (Art, Culture, History, Humour, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , )

Renfield and The Modigliani Painting

“You look pale,” Amadeus commented as he ate his 17th dish of vanilla ice cream.

“It’s this article I read on the BBC News website,” Renfield looked as white as a ghost.

This is the article:

“The Modigliani painting Nu couche (Reclining nude) was sold this past Monday at Christie’s in New York for $170.4 million U.S.,” Amadeus read the story on his iPhone, “Hm, that woman in the painting looks familiar.”

“She should,” Renfield turned the colour of a polar bear, “that’s Sherrielock Holmes.”

“Your personal dominatrix?” Amadeus asked Renfield as Athelstan the butler entered the room to take away the tea pot.

“You didn’t have to mention her profession in such a loud voice,” Renfield now looked as red as a lobster.

“It says here this painting was painted back in 1917 and 1918,” Amadeus reached for some dates to eat, “gosh, Sherrielock still looks good for her age.”

“That’s the thing,” Renfield turned back to the colour of an albino again, “when she told me that she was Sherlock Holmes’ twin sister from the late 19th Century, I thought maybe she had just eaten too many magic mushrooms or something. I didn’t take her seriously. I know she isn’t a vampiress from those times she walked me while I was wearing a dog collar in Hyde Park during daylight hours. So how did she achieve immortality?”.

“And she didn’t do it in Dorian Gray style either,” Amadeus spilled red strawberry jam all over himself, “seeing as how her image in the painting still looks wonderful.”

“Unless she’s got another painting in her attic somewhere,” Renfield now looked like a snow man.

The power suddenly went out.

“The power is out,” Renfield stated the obvious.

While they listened to the sound of Athelstan tripping and falling in the dark as he struggled to find the mansion’s spare electric generator, Amadeus’ iPhone rang.

“That was Dr. Cadbury Rocher down at the Set Enterprises lab,” Amadeus said, “apparently Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster had a major psychic episode in the aquarium. He not only knocked out the power in the facility but blew out the entire electrical grid of the entire City of London as well.”

“It’s that damn painting,” Renfield’s eyes glowed in the dark, “I know it is.”

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday November 10th

Permalink 22 Comments

Renfield Still Seeing Stars On Trek

August 21, 2015 at 6:03 pm (Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , , )

Renfield Still Seeing Stars On Trek

Renfield R. Renfield was still busy bitching to Amadeus Emanon about the fact that a few nights earlier, he was having an extremely pleasant dream about being in a Turkish steam bath with three vivacious female porn stars when suddenly Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster entered his dream and entered the Turkish steam bath wearing a firefighter heat protection suit specially designed for lobsters and pinched him on the rear end with his lobster claws to get him out of the steam bath.

“Why would Michelangelo do that?” Amadeus asked as he dipped three Turkish Delight candies into some tangy and spicy shrimp cocktail sauce and ate them.

“Because I was to go to another space/time dimension to locate the whereabouts of some AI cybrid psychic cyborg they call the Black Dragon Master,” Renfield blew steam through his ears setting off the smoke alarm in the living room of the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set’s colossal London mansion.

“And did you find the Black Dragon Master?” Amadeus was grateful for the ceiling sprinkler’s sudden downpour of water as it cooled off the extremely hot and spicy taste of his Cajun/Mexican/Thai/Korean Barbeque Lobster Sandwich that he was eating.

“Yes, I found him in an Irish brothel in Dublin,” Renfield seemed to recall rather fondly.

“As opposed to an Irish brothel in Beijing,” Amadeus downed a two litre bottle of water.

The mansion’s butler and valet Athelstan appeared in the living room wearing a post-nuclear apocalypse radioactive protection firefighter suit and carrying a hose to put out the fire.

“That’s all right, Athelstan,” Amadeus waved him off, “there’s really no fire.”

Athelstan left the room swearing in ancient Egyptian a language he was learning in an on-line educational course in an effort to better understand the words his boss and master Set mumbled in his sleep in his sarcophagus.

“I hear those AI cybrid psychic cyborgs are able to communicate telepathically,” Amadeus cracked open his fortune cookie.

“This one had temporarily lost his ability to communicate telepathically after he had used his long forgotten sense of taste to study and research the remnants of an ancient beer brewery in Bavaria that had apparently been frequented by a pair of drunken otters back in the early 21st Century,” Renfield explained.

“Isn’t that our own time?” Amadeus checked the date on his new Apple watch.

“Yes, but it was ancient history to this AI cybrid psychic cyborg in the future,” Renfield played with his Ancient Macedonian sword that had once belonged to Alexander The Great.

“So how did he communicate with you?” Amadeus used his iPhone to order more Chinese take-out food.

“He spoke to me in the most god-awful voice,” Renfield shuddered and shivered, “the most sinister voice I ever encountered.”

“Did he sound like Arnold Schwarzenegger the killer robot from the future in The Terminator?” Amadeus tried his best Austrian accent.

“Worse,” Renfield swallowed from his bottle of 21-year-old Port and was grateful that he wasn’t reading any humourous blog posts on the Net at that moment, “he sounded like a cross between Arnold Schwarzenegger and Sylvester Stallone and a Transylvanian transvestite transexual cross-dresser.”

“Sounds like the Rocky Horror Picture Show all over again,” Amadeus spilled rice all over the floor.

“Well I certainly am not doing the fucking Time Warp again,” Renfield recalled that aspect of his dream with sheer terror.

“What happened?” Amadeus got down on his knees to pick up the rice

“As soon as Mr. Sulu hit warp speed on the U.S.S. Enterprise to return us to our own space/time dimension, I was jilted forward with such velocity that my testicles were actually transported right up to the back molars of my mouth,” Renfield recalled with some trepidation, “I could have become the first person in recorded history to give myself my own blow jobs.”

“Well,” Amadeus noted, “from that pic of Ron Jeremy you had left frozen on your computer screen a few nights ago before you went to bed to have that dream, I think he could easily give himself his own blow jobs judging from what I saw.”

To be continued.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday August 14th

Permalink 23 Comments

Next page »