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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And So The Winter Sun Starts To Set On January 2014

January 28, 2014 at 12:23 am (Commentary, Geopolitics and International Relations, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , )

And So The Winter Sun Starts To Set On January 2014

The billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set walked the streets of London in search of blood.

After biting a few Londoners and draining them of their blood, he showed them what a pain in the neck he could be in London after midnight.

An even bigger pain in the neck than silent film star Lon Chaney Sr.

In cyberspace, he was also searching for blood.

After a recent conversation he had with his company Set Enterprises Laboratories’ resident mad scientist Dr. Cadbury Rocher, he needed some of the late Pope John Paul II’s blood for the Rocher plan to succeed.

So Set put an ad on eBay saying he’d pay £2 million to anyone who could bring him a genuine vial of the late Pope John Paul II’s blood.

As Set checked the BBC News app on his Galaxy Android phone while draining the blood of and at the same time having coital relations with a beautiful mini skirted Russian girl on the sidewalks of London, he noticed a news story that a holy relic containing the blood of the late Pope John Paul II had been stolen from a chapel in Italy.

Hm, that’s a good sign, Set thought.

“I’m an Aquarius,” was the beautiful mini skirted Russian girl’s last words as she died trying to fix the holes in her torn nylon stockings.

. . .

Pan Goatee was sitting in his Washington DC apartment getting a blow job from a young Monica Lewinsky lookalike while reading a personally autographed copy of former U. S. President Bill Clinton’s autobiography.

On the television screen in the room was a news story about Pope Francis freeing two doves from the window of the Apostolic Palace in the Vatican with the help of two small children.

Only minutes before the two papal peace doves were released, Pope Francis had called for peace in Ukraine.

Then no sooner had the two doves been released by the two children at the window then both birds were attacked much to the horror of tens of thousands of on-lookers in St. Peter’s Square.

An enormous seagull and a huge black crow attacked the two doves.

One dove managed to escape the seagull but the black crow continued to peck at the other dove drawing blood.

“I’ve got a stain on my blue dress!” The Monica Lewinsky lookalike shouted as Pan Goatee came with the full force of a volcanic eruption from Mount Vesuvius.

“Here take this,” Pan Goatee handed her a gift card for a full steam cleaning at a DC Chinese laundry.

. . .

Russian President Vladimir Putin was sitting in his office.

His shortwave radio was picking up a radio station from Texas.

“Hi friends, this is Texe Marrs,” the Texan voice on the radio drolled.

Putin was reading an intercepted CIA report where the CIA agent had written that he had it on the highest authority of a retired U.S. Air Force officer in Texas that the recent anti-government protests in Kiev Ukraine (the current Ukrainian government were staunch allies of Putin’s Russia) was the direct result of a Jewish conspiracy based on an obscure passage in a medieval Khazar translation of the Babylonian Talmud.

Putin pounded the table, “Damn Jews.”

. . .

Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu was sitting in his office.

He had in front of him a handwritten note written and sent to him by the Paris-based Egyptian Vampiress Isis.

Isis offered to help him build a Third Jewish Temple on the Temple Mount provided he promised to erect a statue of her husband Osiris within the Temple.

Netanyahu sighed.

How was it he was getting messages from all the crazies today?

Earlier he had received an email from a Chinese-Canadian using a Government of Canada Dept. of Health Canada email address offering to sell him the original Golem of Prague if the price was right.

The fellow claimed he had won it in a Destinations Europe contest he had entered.

. . .

Welsh werewolf British Labour MP Magog Rhys Petley was in Geneva Switzerland ostensibly to attend the Geneva II Conference of Peace Talks on Syria.

But an extremely cold Swiss winter had frozen the country’s buttermilk supply.

And Magog used drinking buttermilk as an antidote to his turning into a werewolf.

So instead of attending the conference, Magog walked around the streets of Geneva on all furry fours growling and snarling and eating people.

The people he ate were for the most part tourists who remained stationary long enough for them to take pics of him with their smart phones and upload them to Instagram and Facebook.

And in the process, they remained stationary long enough for him to eat them.

Magog belched loudly as he passed the evening prayer service of a Swiss Reformed Church whose congregation was singing that old southern U.S. spiritual song, “Ezekiel saw the wheel way up in the middle of the air…”

. . .

To be continued.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Monday January 27th
2014.

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The Scientist and Jack O’ Hare

July 9, 2011 at 7:04 pm (Commentary, Short Story) (, , , , )

“Why shouldn’t pigs have wings?” the man with glasses in the white lab coat asked Jack O’ Hare.

The wild hare bunny rabbit raised his big ears when he heard the question and calmly continued to eat his carrot.

“We can make the sea boiling hot with nuclear explosions,” the scientist rubbed his hands together enthusiastically, “so why not give pigs wings? My colleagues and I are working on such wonders with genetic engineering. Perhaps you’d like wings, my big earred furry friend.”

Jack looked up at the sky.

He saw a crow and a magpie fighting.

Not all was so friendly in the skies despite the vast beautiful blue and the luminescent fluffy white clouds.

No, he was quite content with who God had made him to be- a bunny rabbit.

When Jack finished his carrot, he turned his back on the scientist in the lab coat and hopped away.

“But I can make you a god if you’d just give me the chance,” the scientist shouted after Jack O’ Hare, “for that’s the next stage in the cosmic evolution of all us species.”

The scientist’s name wasn’t Frankenstein but it may just as well have been.

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The Boiling Frog Experiment

June 8, 2011 at 7:17 pm (Commentary, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , )

Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster was spending Wednesday evening cooped up in the Set Enterprises lab (as he spent every other evening of a 7-day week).

And of course Michelangelo had his antenna hooked up to a computer so it could read and penetrate the sleeping thoughts (i.e. dreams) of individuals all over the world and then pass the information to the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set’s computer data base.

Michelangelo had heard Wednesday called “hump day” by certain employees of Set Enterprises.

Which may explain why Set Enterprises’ chief mad scientist Dr. Cadbury Rocher had just spent “hump day” genetically engineering a camel who wouldn’t have a hump.

Michelangelo could not surmise the reason why Dr. Cadbury Rocher would do this.

After all he had heard it said by the great Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing that “A camel was God’s way of letting the world know what a horse would look like if it had been designed by a committee.”

So where would a camel be without his hump?

God only knew.

And Dr. Cadbury Rocher was obviously anxious to find out.

Totally oblivious to the fact that humpless camels had already been discovered in southern Tanzania.

But some poor snook Arabian camel was being made to suffer for Dr. Cadbury Rocher’s lack of knowledge.

Such was the calling of science these days.

As for Michelangelo, he himself was a lobster who had been genetically engineered by Dr. Cadbury Rocher to enter people’s dreams and their unconscious minds.

Michelangelo decided once again to enter the unconscious mind of the comatose Renfield R. Renfield who was still lying in a coma in the neurosciences unit of King’s College Hospital here in London.

This time he would not be sending his own visual images into Renfield’s dream like he had last Friday night when he had sent to Renfield’s brain his own version of the Lady Gaga video Judas.

Rather he would choose to see what sort of dreams Renfield dreamt about on his own.

Renfield was dreaming that he was in the kitchen of the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set’s colossal London mansion.

Amadeus Emanon was sitting at the kitchen table eating from a bag of potato chips.

Renfield had a pot on the stove and he had placed a frog in the pot and was slowly raising the temperature of the pot on the stove.

“What are you doing?” Amadeus asked as he munched on a potato chip.

“I’m trying to determine whether that theory which says if you place a frog in boiling water right away it will immediately jump out- which I tried on the previous frog and it died when I placed it in boiling water,” Renfield explained, “but now I’m empirically testing the second part of the theory which says if you slowly raise the temperature of the water up to boiling, the frog won’t jump out of the pot until it’s too late and the frog will boil to death.”

“That’s horrible,” Amadeus stopped eating his potato chip.

“I know,” Renfield cackled an evil laugh.

Amadeus was too paralyzed by the sound of Renfield’s evil laugh to get up and rescue the frog.

And with each passing moment, Renfield used the knobs on the stove to slowly raise the temperature of the water the frog was in.

Suddenly one could hear the water starting to boil and bubble portending trouble…

… particularly for the frog…

…. when suddenly…

… Miss Piggy walked into the kitchen and screamed, “KERMIT! What are you letting that evil man do to you?.”

To be continued.

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