Where Will They Bury Gaddafi?

October 20, 2011 at 6:48 pm (Commentary, Geopolitics and International Relations, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , )

“So I hear Libyan leader Col. Muammar Gaddafi was killed today in his birthplace of Sirte,” Amadeus Emanon remarked as he bit into his camel burger- a dish he was trying for the very first time.

“That’s right,” Renfield yawned as he looked at the video of Gaddafi’s dead body at the BBC News website on his computer.

“Wasn’t he one of the Boss’ allies at one time?” Amadeus reached into a jar of pickles and added a pickle to his camel burger.

“That’s right he was,” Renfield nodded, “right up until the moment he started to lose the Libyan civil war- then the Boss quickly dropped him as an ally.”

As the group The Black Eyed Peas started to sing the song My Humps on the radio, Amadeus bit into the most difficult portion of his camel burger and asked Renfield, “So what are you currently doing?”.

“I’m trying to hack into the computers of the Libyan Transitional Council to see if I can discover the secret location where they plan to bury Col. Gaddafi’s body,” Renfield grinned.

“Do you suppose they’ll bury him face downwards so he can see where he’s going?” Amadeus felt musically motivated to add some black-eyed peas to his camel burger.

“I don’t know,” Renfield shook his head, “I’m trying to determine the site of his burial because I think it would be kind of nifty to fly there and raise Col. Gaddafi from the dead as a zombie.”

“Have you ever wondered what they do with dying grapes?” Amadeus changed the topic as he reached into a box of raisins.

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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