Pan Goatee’s Ongoing Aesthetic Crusade and Hillary’s Nightmare

September 24, 2020 at 10:32 pm (Vampire novel, News, Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, Aesthetics) (, , , , , )

Genetically created satyr serial killer Pan Goatee had gone to a nearby grocery store to buy himself some Mango and Guava juice (to start the new autumn season by eating and drinking healthy).

Pan Goatee’s serial killing specialty was to kill ugly looking women (or as he called them “female facially aesthetically challenged” so as not to be so politically offensive in an age of extreme political correctness where people are so easily offended about everything).

As Goatee returned from the grocery store and walked across the street to his home, he noticed a fat ugly blimp walking her dog (a dog of the four legged variety as opposed to the two legged variety).

The fat ugly blimp’s dog took a shit on the lawn of the house where Pan Goatee rented a room.

“Leaping toadstools!” Goatee exclaimed, “You walk around with your fat ugly face ruining the aesthetic environment of an early autumn evening and then your dog takes a shit on my lawn? Why don’t you potty train him to take a shit on your face? At least that way it would be a huge improvement.”

Goatee then beheaded the fat ugly blimp with his astral laser machete.

He beheaded the dog as well for crapping on his lawn.

Nanites from Hell arrived to eat the remains of the fat ugly blimp and her crapping dog.

After Goatee had put his Mango and Guava juice away, he was so angry about the encounter with the fat ugly blimp and her crapping dog, he decided to go for a long walk hoping that seeing the autumn colours of the trees would improve his mood.

But the colours of the trees had not changed colour yet.

It must be all the hot air flowing from City Hall these days as the city’s fat chubby Mayor (who lucky for him was male otherwise his political career might have come to an abrupt and sudden end when Goatee moved into the city) and his brainless city councillors and even more brainless bureaucrats didn’t seem to know how to run a city, Goatee fumed.

The hot air from City Hall was preventing the leaves on the trees from changing colour.

Goatee decided to turn around and head home.

His mood even more sour than ever.

Then lo and behold! his mood worsened when an even fatter and uglier fat ugly blimp than the one he encountered earlier in the evening was walking down the street right at him.

“What’s with you uglos?” Goatee noted as he beheaded her, “This must be part of a George Soros funded plot to lower the morale of what used to be western civilization and pave the way for a global Communist revolution. They’ve even got fat ugly blimps doing TV ads for the Big Spin Wheel Lottery whereas in the past they used to have beautiful women doing it. This Great Reset as Soros and the UN call it is off to a piss poor start in my opinion. And my lawn if it could talk would say it’s off to a crappy start!”.

. . .

“Unholy Mother of Beelzebub!” Hillary Clinton woke up screaming, “I had a nightmare where I dreamed I was being beheaded by a genetically created satyr hot off the test tubes and hot off the pages of classical Greek mythology and he was speaking hilariously funny Oscar Wilde style witticisms as he beheaded me.”

“I had the same nightmare!” Bill said as he woke up with a huge smile on his face.

“Have you been sleep writing phone numbers again?” Hillary grabbed the pen and paper away from the former Fornicator-In-Chief.

Hillary became enraged, “Why did you write down Monica Lewinsky’s phone number?”.

“Did I write down Monica Lewinsky’s phone number?” Bill blushed, “I meant to write down Ariana Grande’s. I imagine Monica is quite old by now. And I really enjoyed ogling Ariana Grande’s ass along with the Rev. Jesse Jackson at Aretha Franklin’s funeral two years ago. I was wanting to have Ariana perform with me a duet version of that old Dolly Parton song Here You Come Again.”

Hillary hit Bill over the head with a cactus plant.

. . .

Pope Francis looked at the shooter style mean looking alcohol concoction in his gay papal secretary’s shooter glass.

“What’s that drink called?” The Communist pontiff inquired.

“It’s called a Cthulhu,” his secretary answered.

“A what?” Francis looked confused.

“A Cthulhu,” the secretary replied, “named after a fictional monster created by the American horror writer H.P. Lovecraft.”

“What does it taste like?” Francis asked.

“I guess I’m about to find out,” the secretary smiled and downed the shooter.

He immediately disintegrated.

Both flesh and bones (most of his bones anyways).

Only his skull remained.

“I don’t think I shall ever order one of those,” Francis remarked as he rang his bell to ask his valet to bring him a new secretary.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Thursday September 24th
2020.

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