The Legend of The Headless Motorcyclist

October 13, 2011 at 8:30 pm (Vampire novel) (, , , , )

As Dr. Cadbury Rocher the chief scientist at Set Enterprises’ lab instructed the leather clad motorcyclist to lift up his arm to receive the needle, a news bulletin broke in on the radio in the lab…

“This just in,” the voice of BBC News said, “the infamous Were-Zomb-ire has attacked the Convent of the Order of Nuns of the Immaculate Heart of Our Lady of Fatima just outside London. The convent which had 21 living nuns just prior to the attack now has none…”

“This is what happens when mere amateurs try to practice science,” Dr. Cadbury Rocher spat out a sneering reference to the shapeshifting hamster/human Renfield.

“So this shot you’re going to give me is going to make me immortal, right doc?” the motorcyclist asked.

“It is or I’m not a member in good standing of the London Transhumanist Association,” Dr. Rocher injected the serum, “this needle contains the DNA of a rare variety of fruit recently found growing in a lush valley in northeastern Iraq. I believe this fruit was the one that was growing on the Tree of Life in the Genesis account of the Garden of Eden.”

“Wow,” the motorcyclist smiled.

* * *

As Jefferson Harley sped on his motorcycle at 400 kilometres per hour down the streets of London, he relished the fact that he was going to live forever thanks to the injection that Dr. Cadbury Rocher had given him.

Harley raced towards the underpass in front of him.

He looked up at the bridge overpass above him.

“What an ugly looking gargoyle,” Harley remarked, “I’ve never really noticed that before. This is what happens when someone tries to incorporate neo-medieval art into post-modern architecture.”

The gargoyle who was actually the Were-Zomb-ire sitting atop the bridge was bothered by the noise of the motorcycle.

The Were-Zomb-ire jumped down on top of Jefferson Harley and ripped the motorcyclist’s head off.

Since the motorcyclist had been injected with the serum of immortality, both body and head continued to live despite their Were-Zomb-ire enforced separation.

Harley’s head was on the roadway pavement screaming, “Help!” Help!”.

The headless body of Jefferson Harley continued to speed down the street driving the fast moving Harley-Davidson.

And thus was born the Legend of the Headless Motorcyclist.

To be continued.

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Jack O’ Hare On Mount Kinabalu

September 29, 2011 at 4:53 pm (Poetry) (, , , , , )

Jack O’ Hare On Mount Kinabalu
A poem written by Christopher Van Helsing
Wednesday evening September 28th 2011
Inspired by an old Kadazandusun legend
related by Quareztina Sandai

Jack O’ Hare was wondering where his friend went
he did not know Chris was paying apartment rent
so he set off to the big city in search of his pal
oblivious to Swiss CERN reactors raising Hell
they caused a warp in time
and sent Jack crashing into lime
on the top of Mount Kinabalu
and as a cow did moo
there was Prince Wu
practicing Kung Fu.

With a whack the prince hit a dragon on the head
so hard the dragon was very soon dead
and then the prince found a pearl of great price
while Jack ordered some Borneo fried rice.

The prince found a Kadazan woman so pretty
he married her in front of a priest so witty
that Jack laughed so hard his pants he pissed
while the happy couple kissed and kissed.

But Prince Wu already had a girl back home in Beijing
and after his honeymoon night left without packing
the jilted bride
cried and cried
wandering Mount Kinabalu
her tears turned to dew
and she turned to stone
causing Jack to moan.

Jack set out to avenge the girl
and hopped over mountains to whirl
like the wind of rage that he was
he met his Chinese hare coz
and aunts and uncles
sailing small junkles
he reached the Forbidden City
his determination gritty.

He found Prince Wu
near the Imperial Zoo
he found a baker and baked the prince a cake
then he found the prince near a lake
and said, “Have a piece…
your hunger will cease.”

So the Prince ate the cake
which baker did shake and bake
and Jack filled with laxatives
amidst the ancient Plaxadives
(what those were now lost to history)
and like twinkling eye full of mystery
the Prince died of a massive bowel movement
while Jack happy danced the groove-ment
(a groovy dance on the pavement
eating donuts filled with jellymint).

And so ends our sad tale…
now lost like history’s mail
the Kadazan woman avenged
after she turned to Stonehenge
on Mount Kinabalu
where her tears are the dew.

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