Set, Baphomet, Moloch, The Coronavirus, Ratatoskr and Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez

March 9, 2020 at 11:00 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, Mythology, News, Sorcery, The Occult, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , )

Set, Baphomet, Moloch, The Coronavirus, Ratatoskr and Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez

The London-based billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set was asked by his butler and valet Athelstan, “Tell me, sir, back during the world financial crisis of 2008, you went from being a billionaire to being a mere multi-millionaire. It was only Renfield betting all you had on Spain winning the 2010 FIFA World Cup that led to you becoming a billionaire again. Now that the stock markets today have taken their worst hit and plunge since the global economic meltdown of 2008, are you in danger of becoming a mere multi-millionaire again?”.

“Fortunately not, Athelstan,” Set sipped his martini and ate his caviar, “I learned my lesson from 2008. I have a wide reserve of gold that I bought and hid in an abandoned mine somewhere in the British Isles that is guarded by a clone that Dr. Cadbury Rocher made of Hades’ 3 headed dog Cerberus. So I’m ready for whatever downturn happens.”

“I suppose it was fears over the Coronavirus that sparked this panic, sir,” Athelstan handed the ancient Egyptian vampire a bottle of Corona beer with a lemon inside.

“It was,” Set nodded, “That and a row between Saudi Arabia and Russia over the price and supply of oil that sent oil prices into a down spin.”

Set then grabbed a bottle of tequila with a large worm inside the bottle from the tray that Athelstan presented to him.

. . .

The demon Baphomet was having a conversation with the ancient Canaanite god Moloch.

“This Coronavirus is quite delightful,” Baphomet drank a test tube full of the virus, “As a result, I see the Vatican has cancelled all public Masses in Rome and Italy from now until April 3rd.”

The pair were sitting in a totally empty Rome taverna.

“And from what I understand from my sources in the Vatican which are many,” the bull-headed god rubbed his metallic furnace belly, “Pope Francis would like to extend that indefinitely.”

“It was rather nice of George Soros, Hillary Clinton and the Sankt Gallen Mafia to force Benedict XVI to resign and put in Pope Francis for us,” Baphomet ordered an extra fruity strawberry daiquiri with a side of goat’s milk.

“It was,” Moloch nodded as he gratefully took his plate of the Hillary Clinton Secret Topping Pizza from the waiter.

. . .

After a day out campaign stumping for Bernie Sanders at which she told crowds, “He’s da man!”, Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez was back in her hotel room and opening one of her drawers to take out her vibrator to bring her some much needed relief.

It helped relieve her anxiety.

An intern might be good enough for Bill Clinton but it wasn’t good enough for her.

When she opened the drawer, she got the shock of her life when, instead of her vibrator, a red squirrel with elongated pointed ears jumped out at her.

“I think I’m going squirrelly,” she moaned as her skirt fell to the floor.

“I’m Ratatoskr,” the apparently talking squirrel introduced himself.

“The squirrel in Norse mythology who runs up and down the world tree Yggdrasil to carry messages back and forth between the eagle perched atop Yggdrasil and the serpent Nidhoggr who dwells beneath one of the three roots of the tree?” Alexandria asked as her bra came apart at the back.

“You’ve heard of me?” Ratatoskr grinned as he helped himself to a nut from a small jar labelled Alexandria’s Socialist Nuts.

“My yoga instructor talked about you last week as he came out of a trance after listening to an old LP called the Tibetan Buddhist Monks and Lamas’ Greatest Mind Altering Chants,” Alexandria explained, “What are you doing here?”.

“Well, I’m searching for a new job after the world tree Yggdrasil was cut down this past weekend by a Brazilian logging conglomerate that was given permission by Brazilian President Jair Bolsonaro to do so,” Ratatoskr washed down the nut with a bottle of Amazon Rainwater.

“So what do you want with me?” Alexandria inquired.

“Well, I’m here to serve as your new spirit guide,” Ratatoskr grinned, “Your Silva Method instructor sent me. He figured you might need a new one since the leprechaun who had been assigned to you got sodomized by some guy dressed as a rainbow at the recent Queens NY Saint Pat’s For All Parade that was held this past Saint David’s Day. He’s now undergoing treatment for PTSD.”

Meanwhile in an abandoned mine in Cornwall, a Cerberus clone was keeping a close eye on Set’s pots of gold.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Monday March 9th
2020.

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Dr. Cadbury Rocher and His Camellamaroos

August 10, 2014 at 4:35 pm (Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , )

Dr. Cadbury Rocher and His Camellamaroos

Set Enterprises’ sanity-challenged scientist Dr. Cadbury Rocher was in a meeting with his boss the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set showing off his latest genetically manufactured creation

Although the genetically manufactured creation was not present in person.

Dr. Rocher was showing off film from a Set Enterprises experimental farm at a secret location in West Africa.

“I call this creature the Camellamaroo,” Dr. Rocher smiled like a proud father.

“Camellamaroo?” Set had just got one of his vampiric fangs stuck on a kernel of caramel popcorn from the bucket of caramel popcorn he was eating.

“It’s a genetic hybrid I’ve created from the DNA of a dromedary camel, a llama and a kangaroo,” Dr. Rocher explained.

Set rang the bell on the table next to him and called out to his valet, “A toothpick please, Athelstan.”

On the screen appeared two of the Camellamaroo creatures running through desert bush.

The creature had the face and hump of a camel but the arms and feet of a kangaroo and was able to hop and jump at great speed like a kangaroo.

“Where does the llama fit in?” Set asked as he desperately tried to get the kernel of caramel popcorn off his fang.

“It’s able to spit like a llama,” Dr. Rocher grinned.

One of the camellamaroos hops up to someone and spits in their face.

“We also added the DNA of a few tobacco chewing baseball players to increase the ferocity of the spit,” Dr. Rocher beamed beatifically like a sailor in a whorehouse on a Saturday night.

“Where’s that fucking toothpick, Athelstan?” Set called out to his butler again as he started to foam at the mouth.

“Notice the reaction of the person who has just been spit at in the face by the Camellamaroo,” Dr. Rocher enthused ecstatically.

“He’s bleeding from the ears, nose and mouth,” Set reached for the toothpick handed him by Athelstan.

“Exactly,” Dr. Rocher nodded, “I threw in a significant pinch of fruit bat DNA into my Camellamaroo concoction so that it can carry and spread the Ebola virus without being affected themselves. I injected them with a super strain of Ebola virus I created in the lab so that when the virus makes contact with human beings through spit, the symptoms are immediate. Hence the bleeding from the extremities that you see in this film,” Dr. Rocher ended his lecture.

“Very well done,” Set said as he proceeded to bite into a steak sandwich- blue rare.

To be continued.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday August 9th
2014.

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Vampire Set Gets A Food Bill For 4500 British Pounds

October 29, 2011 at 7:57 pm (Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , )

The billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set almost had a heart attack (he would have if he had been a mere mortal) when he noticed his estate’s food bill.

“In the name of Amun-Ra,” Set swore, “we paid 4500 pounds sterling just for one single piece of fish.”

“Apparently,” Renfield nodded, “the fish was a 10 kilogram Empurau or Emperor fish. It’s an exotic variety of fish that’s found in the Malaysian province of Sarawak on the island of Borneo. It can apparently cost up to RM 6,000 in Malaysian currency or roughly $2,000 in U.S. currency. So it’s no surprise that it cost us 4500 pounds sterling.”

“But who the Hell ordered it?” Set asked.

“Amadeus,” Renfield answered, “he’s developed an appetite for Malaysian cuisine recently.”

“Well please tell Amadeus to develop an appetite for a less expensive form of cuisine,” Set ordered.

“Will do, sir,” Renfield made a note of that on his iPad.

“By the way,” Set asked, “did you or I or Athelstan get to taste a piece of this Empurau fish?”.

“No,” Renfield shook his head, “Amadeus ate all 10 kilograms of it by himself at one sitting.”

“Amadeus,” it was the voice of Amadeus’s date for the evening the New Orleans singer Angelique Dumont at the front door of the mansion, “you seem to have put on a lot of weight since I last saw you.”

To be continued.

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Idol Talk At The Set Mansion

October 18, 2011 at 10:22 pm (Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , )

As Renfield entered the colossal mansion of the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set, he noticed a rather large and hideous looking creature leaving Set’s study.

The creature had a rather angry looking expression on his face.

“Say wasn’t that the demon Moloch who just left the Boss’ study?” Renfield asked Amadeus.

“It was,” Amadeus nodded as he continued to bite into a delicious Malaysian recipe for sweet and sour fish.

“What’s he looking so angry about?” Renfield inquired.

“Apparently His Holiness Pope Benedict XVI didn’t invite him to the Inter-Religious Dialogue and Pilgrimage For Peace which is being held in Assisi on October 27th of this year,” Amadeus answered, “so Moloch is somewhat upset about that. Eastern Orthodox priests have been invited, Protestant ministers have been invited, Jewish rabbis have been invited, Muslim imams have been invited, Buddhist lamas have been invited and Hindu gurus have been invited. In fact, 200 representatives of various different religious faiths from over 50 countries have been invited. But Moloch wasn’t invited.”

“Why not?” Renfield bit into a tuna fish sandwich which Athelstan the valet had brought him.

“I don’t think demons were invited,” Amadeus sampled some of the Malaysian Princess Diyana Aleeya’s delicious spaghetti.

“And why the Hell not?” Renfield felt sympathy for Moloch.

“I think it’s precisely because of Hell that demons haven’t been invited,” Amadeus answered.

“I fail to follow such logic,” Renfield drew a satanic inverted pentagram into his chocolate cake.

Suddenly Renfield’s cell phone emitted a beeping sound.

“Who’s that?” Amadeus took a sip of orange juice.

“It’s a text message from the demon Moloch,” Renfield replied, “he wants to know if he can borrow my creature the Were-Zomb-ire for a few days and get it to attack the Vatican in retaliation for the Pope not inviting him to attend the Assisi Inter-Religious Dialogue and Pilgrimage For Peace.”

“And what answer are you giving him, sir?” Athelstan the valet inquired.

“If he can successfully trap the Were-Zomb-ire himself,” Renfield replied, “he’s welcome to him. So far all the traps I’ve set up around London to capture the Were-Zomb-ire have failed.”

“And what sort of traps have you been using, sir?” Athelstan inquired.

“Giant mouse traps with giant pieces of cheese attached to them,” Renfield answered.

“And who suggested that the Were-Zomb-ire likes cheese?” Athelstan looked surprised.

Renfield pointed towards Amadeus.

Athelstan looked quizzically at Amadeus.

“Well,” Amadeus shrugged as he bit into a huge block of cheese, “since I like cheese, I thought maybe the Were-Zomb-ire might like cheese as well.”

To be continued.

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Dinner Is Set Or Rather A Dinner For Set

September 2, 2011 at 9:54 pm (Vampire novel) (, , , , )

The billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set was preparing to feed.

He just didn’t suck blood.

He had a virtual blood bath with his victims.

The man and woman were chained in the dungeon of his mansion.

He had swooped down when he saw them kissing in Hyde Park and grabbed both of them in his taloned hands.

He shredded their clothes after he chained them.

He then used his long taloned nails to cut through and pierce every single inch of skins on their bodies.

The blood squirted out and Set thirstily drank.

Eventually after a couple of hours, the couple finally died.

Set wiped a trace of blood off his satisfied smile.

“Beg your pardon, sir,” Athelstan his valet and butler called from the top of the stairs, “it’s your loyal servant Col. Muammar Gaddafi calling for help.”

“He’s no longer in control of the country of Libya is he?” Set asked sneeringly.

“That is correct, sir,” Athelstan nodded.

“Then he is no longer of any use to us,” Set helped himself to an ear, a nose and an eyeball and started chewing.

To be continued.

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