Renfield’s Dream of Hercule Poirot

May 4, 2017 at 4:12 pm (Arts, books, Detective story, Literature, Movies, Mystery, Politics, Vampire novel) (, , , , )

Renfield R. Renfield was lying in his bed in the John Milton Blue Room (where John Milton and his daughter Anne once stayed) in a Bed and Breakfast in the town of Tewkesbury in Gloucestershire, England.

Renfield was running as a British Transhumanist Techno-Progressive Anti Bio-Conservative Party candidate in the constituency of Tewkesbury In The Cotswolds.

He was running against sitting incumbent British Conservative MP Agathor Christie (who was a great nephew by marriage of the famous British mystery writer Agatha Christie).

Renfield would soon be involved in a campaign debate against Mr. Agathor Christie.

As such, Renfield fell asleep dreaming about Agatha Christie’s famous Belgian detective sleuth character Hercule Poirot.

Hercule Poirot was staying in a huge mansion on a large English country estate.

Hercule and 24 other guests were enjoying a huge dinner party (Monsieur Poirot would have given Renfield’s friend Amadeus Emanon a run for his money about who was able to eat the most).

After the dinner, most of the other guests had retired to their rooms for this evening.

Hercule himself was in the drawing room enjoying a cigar and a glass of port.

Suddenly a gunshot was heard coming from upstairs.

Followed by a woman’s scream.

The butler entered the drawing room, “Sorry to disturb, sir, but it appears that His Lordship has been murdered.”

“Damn,” Poirot remarked.

He was really starting to enjoy his port and his cigar and the comfort of his easy chair.

Reluctantly the Belgian detective made his way upstairs to the crime scene.

“Wait,” Monsieur Poirot in his thick francophonic sounding Belgian accent instructed the guests as he entered the room, “please, touch nothing.”

Hercule Poirot
“Wait, please touch nothing.”

It was a little late for such instructions.

One guest was already examining the murder victim’s head. Another was holding and examining the victim’s right arm. Guest #3 was holding and examining the victim’s left arm. Guest #4 was holding and examining the victim’s right leg. Guest #5 was examining and holding the victim’s left leg. Guest #6 (whom ladies at the dinner party referred to as “the trollop in the little red dress”) was undoing the victim’s zipper on his pants with her mouth.

Guest #7 had picked up and examined the revolver lying on the floor. Guest #8 had picked up and examined the bloodied knife lying on the coffee table. The French maid was examining the open bottle of pills on the bedroom dresser. Guest #9 was examining the open bottle of poison in the medicine cabinet.

Guest #10 had poured himself a glass of water from the pitcher of water on the reading lamp table and promptly keeled over dead after drinking it.

Guest #11 was examining the hangman’s noose hanging from the ceiling. Guest #12 was examining the bloodied chainsaw lying on the bloodied carpet by the desk. Guest #13 was under a ladder trying to retrieve a black cat that was behind the ladder.

Guest #14 was examining a bloodied samurai sword on the desk. Guest #15 was examining a pair of bloodied candlesticks by the fireplace.

And Guests #16 to 23 were examining, handling and imbibing the bottles that were the contents of His Lordship’s private liquor cabinet.

Then Renfield woke up.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Thursday May 4th

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Something Transhuman This Way Comes

April 8, 2015 at 6:26 pm (Commentary, Geopolitics and International Relations, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , )

Something Transhuman This Way Comes

Amadeus Emanon was watching an adaptation of Agatha Christie’s The Third Girl on BBC Television.

Hercule Poirot was standing on an estate balcony watching a man and a woman on the lawn kissing under the moonlight.

Said Poirot to the woman standing next to him on the balcony, “We are looking, Madame, at a mystery. The greatest mystery. The mystery that even I, Hercule Poirot, will never be able to solve. The mystery that is… the nature of Love.”

“Love is a mystery?” Renfield looked up from the book of essays he was reading written by Ray Kurzweil, J. Craig Venter and other leading Transhumanist thinkers.

“Hercule Poirot says it is,” Amadeus ate his Belgian waffles with strawberry syrup.

“It can be awfully expensive, I know,” Renfield sipped his 12-year-old single malt whisky, “especially on Valentine’s Day. Having to buy your date all those flowers and chocolates and then she won’t let you get into her panties anyways… stupid bitch.”

Renfield’s last Valentine’s Day had been an even bigger fiasco than Bugsy Malone’s 1929 Valentine’s Day at the hands of Al Capone.

“You wanted to get into her panties?” Amadeus ate his chocolate covered Easter bunny, “I didn’t know you had all these Bruce Jenner like urges.”

“That’s not what I meant by that metaphor, you idiot,” Renfield spilled malt whisky all over himself in his rage.

Amadeus switched to another channel on the TV.

A film historian was giving a commentary on the 1933 American horror film The Vampire Bat that starred Lionell Atwill and Fay Wray.

Said the film historian, “Any resemblance between statements made by mad scientists in the Hollywood horror films of the 1930s and ’40s and today’s Transhumanist scientists is purely coincidental.”

Renfield harrumphed as he used a copy of the 2013 Transhumanist Manifesto (that he had written) to dry himself off.

Amadeus switched to another channel where a theologian was being interviewed.

Said the theologian, “Any resemblance between the promises made by the serpent to Eve in the Garden of Eden (“Ye shall be as gods” and “Ye shall not die”) and the promises made by Transhumanist thinkers today (“We shall be like gods” and “we shall not die”) is purely coincidental …”

“What a day I’m having,” Renfield cried as a house fly got stuck to his whisky soaked copy of his Transhumanist Manifesto.

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

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