Wilkie The Cat Plays Hamlet

August 20, 2019 at 10:40 pm (Comedy, Culture, Entertainment, Humour, Literature, Poetry, Romance, theatre, Theatre Arts) (, , , , )

Wilkie The Cat Plays Hamlet

The noted New York feline thespian Wilkie The Cat was on stage appearing in his own production of William Shakespeare’s Hamlet.

The vain cat actor was naturally playing the lead role.

“If it were done when ’tis done,¬†
then twere well it were done quickly…”

“You idiot, that’s from MacBeth,” shouted Mitzi the French cat who was playing Ophelia.

“Oh,” Wilkie took a look at what he had written on his cuff links.

“Sorry folks,” Wilkie grinned at the audience.

Wilkie struck a dramatic Sir John Barrymore style pose.

“I have come to bury Caesar not to praise him,” Wilkie began.

The body of a German shepherd is carried by four marching legionaries across the stage followed by a weeping female French poodle.

“That’s from Julius Caesar, bozo!” Mitzi exclaimed.

“Oops!” Wilkie took a look at what was written on the cuff links of his other front paw.

“Now is the winter of our discontent,” Wilkie began as imagery of hot dogs and ice cream cones and a summer beach and loads of bikini clad women and swimming suit men appear on the screen behind him.

“Richard III, idiot!” Mitzi shook her head.

An actor dressed like John Wayne appears on stage and in a John Wayne like voice says, “A horse! A horse! My kingdom for a horse!”.

Wilkie sits down and takes a look at what was written on one of the white socks on his back paws, “O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou, Romeo?”.

“That’s Juliet’s line from Romeo and Juliet, you nincompoop!” Mitzi threw her paws in the air in exasperation.

Wilkie hearkens to what was written on the white sock on his other back paw.

“I fear my Thisbe’s promise is forgot!” Wilkie puts his right front paw to his feline brow in ultra melodramatic fashion.

“That’s from Pyramus and Thisbe the play within a play in A Midsummer Night’s Dream, you ninny!” Mitzi grabs her parasol umbrella from the stage hand off stage so she can hit Wilkie over the head with it.

Wilkie pulls off a piece of paper he has stapled to his tail.

“Those are the lines from King Lear you have there!” Mitzi approaches menacingly with her umbrella.

“King Leer!” Wilkie protests too much, “I’m no King Leer! You must think me a voyeur of some importance.”

The disgraced Pee-wee Herman walks across stage holding a pair of binoculars through which his eyes are peering.

Wilkie rips out a piece of paper that’s stapled to his tongue, reads it and cries out, “Soft you now, the fair Ophelia!”.

Mitzi casts her parasol to the stage and sighs, “Finally now, you’ve got the right play.”

At that point, Donald Trump with his toupee falling off, walks on stage and proclaims,

“In this same interlude it doth befall
That I, one Trump by name, present a wall…”

At that moment, the mostly Democratic Party aligned New York City audience rushes towards the stage to tear it apart (along with many in the audience who just want their money back).

As the New York City Mayor’s wife (a former lesbian) rushes on to the stage, Wilkie the Cat shouts, “Get thee to a nunnery!”.

Wilkie is then immediately attacked by New York Gov. Andrew Cuomo who tries to inject the feline with saline solution and then suck him up with a Planned Parenthood approved Electrolux vacuum cleaner.

Needless to say like every other play Wilkie had produced and directed for Broadway, the cat’s adaptation of Hamlet did not have a second night’s performance.

-A Wilkie the Cat Short Story
written by Christopher 
Tuesday August 20th
2019.

Dolores Costello with her husband John Barrymore.
Barrymore, unlike Wilkie The Cat, could perform Shakespeare.

Advertisements

Permalink 8 Comments

Dashwood Forrest Meets Ivanka Trump

January 25, 2017 at 1:53 pm (Espionage, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, International Espionage, International Intrigue, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , )

Dashwood Forrest stood in the middle of his hotel room dressed like Gainsborough’s Blue Boy and stared at himself in the full length mirror on the wall.

“I’m beginning to have some idea of how Narcissus must have felt when he saw his own reflection,” Dashwood swooned.

There was a knock at the door.

“Mulligan, would you please answer that,” Dashwood called out to his Irish zombie manservant, “and please put a towel over your head. I don’t want you frightening anybody like you did the cleaning staff this morning. It took a $50 tip to bring them back again.”

Mulligan put a towel over his head and went to open the door.

He crashed into several lamps on his way to find the door.

“Watch where you’re going, Mulligan!” Dashwood exclaimed.

“It’s rather difficult to see where I’m going wearing a towel over my head,” Mulligan complained as he liberated a large potting plant from its large pot.

Finally Mulligan found the door knob and opened the door.

He stood on the other side of the door so the person entering wouldn’t see him.

Ivanka Trump entered the room wearing a lovely Grecian white dress designed to thaw a New York City winter and a pair of exquisite diamond studded spiked stiletto high-heeled shoes.

“Dashwood Forrest,” she greeted the Blue Boy costumed art gallery owner with a kiss on the cheek, “it’s been far too long.”

“Indeed it has, my dear,” Dashwood Forrest likewise kissed her on the cheek, “meeting one of the few women in the world who sets me straight.”

“My dear Dashwood,” Ivanka laughed, “I was hoping I was the only woman in the world who set you straight.”

“There was that Sherrielock Holmes you met at the Charmaine Olivia Mermaid Art Exhibit at your London gallery,” Mulligan spoke from behind the door, “she set you straight.”

“Mulligan, return to your butlery duties elsewhere,” Dashwood ordered.

Mulligan (with towel over head) tripped over several chairs until he found his way to the bathroom.

“What did you wish to see me about, Ivanka?” Dashwood asked.

“Your art history skills,” Ivanka smiled, “Dad is very much interested in this painting which recently showed up in Paris. Do you know if the Renaissance prophet Nostradamus was also an artist, Dash?”.

“I had not heard that he was,” Dashwood started taking off his Blue Boy costume and started putting on a costume of Thomas Lawrence’s Pinkie, “he was a medical surgeon, a doctor, a poet, a philosopher and a psychic but I hadn’t heard that he was an artist.”

“Grandma Mulligan had several Nostradamus paintings in her tea shop in the little village of Sneem, Ireland,” Mulligan called out from the bathroom where he was trying to rescue his tie from the bathtub drain.

“How did she get those?” Dashwood tied a pink bow around his neck and reached for a pinkish coloured shepherd’s staff.

“When some of the Spanish Armada sailors fled to Ireland on their sinking ships after their defeat by Drake, one of my ancestors a Spanish nobleman managed to save his collection of Nostradamus paintings in a waterproof crate and swim ashore to Ireland.”

“What was he doing carrying a collection of oil paintings into battle in the first place?” Dashwood took a selfie of himself as Pinkie on his iPhone and uploaded it to Instagram.

“He was hoping to take the paintings and hang them up on the walls of the large English country estate that the Armada Admiral had promised him once he had conquered England,” Mulligan got one of his zombie toenails stuck in the bathtub drain in what turned out to be a poorly planned commando rescue mission of the tie on his part, “but alas the Spanish Armada Admiral had overestimated his own abilities and had underestimated the abilities of Sir Francis Drake.”

“One should never underestimate the abilities of an English lawn bowling champion,” Dashwood took his Pinkie costume off and wrapped himself in the English flag of Saint George.

Ivanka Trump stood there and wondered whether she should re-consider her invitation to invite Dashwood to her father’s Presidential Inauguration.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday January 14th
2017.

Permalink 16 Comments

Dashwood Forrest In New York City

January 24, 2017 at 1:56 pm (Espionage, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, International Espionage, International Intrigue, Vampire novel) (, , , , , )

“Do you have anything to declare?” the U.S. Customs agent asked Dashwood Forrest.

“Just my genius,” Dashwood Forrest quoted his hero and 19th Century lookalike Oscar Wilde.

“Hey, Charlie,” the U.S. Customs agent called out to his partner, “how much is genius worth in the U.S. these days?”.

“Not very much, Fred,” his partner answered.

“All right, you can go through and welcome to the United States,” Fred waved him on.

Dashwood Forrest went to retrieve his luggage.

The first trunk that came down on the carousel was an old antique trunk that said THIS SIDE UP with the arrow pointing in different directions.

The trunk burst open as soon as it hit the carousel and a zombie fell out.

“Did you have a good flight, Mulligan?” Dashwood asked.

“I had a wind draft up my backside the entire flight,” Mulligan answered in a thick Irish accent, “I wasn’t sure whether this was due to someone leaving the door open or me eating too much pork and beans the night before.”

“A zombie eating too much pork and beans is a dangerous thing,” Dashwood paraphrased Pope’s famous line about learning and the Pierian spring.

“I suppose you’ll be wanting me to carry all your luggage for you, Mr. Forrest,” Mulligan grumbled.

“That I would, Mulligan,” Forrest answered, “that’s the reason I brought you to the U.S.”.

“With me in freight and you up in First Class,” Mulligan whined.

“Well, it would have been pretty ghastly the other way around,” Dashwood answered as he smelled the rose in his lapel.

“I suppose it would have been at that,” Mulligan answered since he wasn’t exceptionally bright.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday January 14th
2017.

Permalink Leave a Comment

Wilkie The Cat In New York: A Poem

July 30, 2016 at 12:51 pm (Humour, Literature, Poetry) (, , , )

There with pork on his fork
stood Wilkie The Cat in New York
In the middle of Times Square
looking at the lights so fair
He pulled out a comb and combed his hair
while Mitzi took her time deciding what to wear
when she finally decided, night had given way to day
and Central Park coach horses were home eating hay

-A poem written by Christopher
Wednesday July 27th 2016.

Permalink 32 Comments

Netanyahu: When ET’s Friend Phones You Not Home

October 3, 2015 at 6:34 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, News, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , , )

Netanyahu: When ET’s Friend Phones You Not Home

Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu was sitting in the back of a diplomatic limousine in Manhattan after having delivered a passionate speech at the UN General Assembly in New York City.

At his side was the Mossad agent known as the Controller of The Golem.

The phone in the limousine rang.

The Prime Minister looked at the number.

He recognized the number of the U.S. National Security Council in Washington D.C.

“Hello,” the Prime Minister of Israel picked up the receiver.

“Mr. Prime Minister, this is a friend,” the voice said, “you must give up all control over the Temple Mount and East Jerusalem itself.”

“Who is this?” The Israeli Prime Minister demanded to know.

“And you must give up all control over the West Bank,” the voice said, “We know this was part of the land promised to you by The Lord God of Israel but he’s just an extraterrestrial- an astronaut from another world – He’s not the Supreme Creator of the Universe. We have the evidence to prove it which we will share with you at a future date. But in the meantime don’t hold on to the Temple Mount, East Jerusalem and settlement areas in the West Bank areas as if they were part of some divine mandate.”

“Who is this?” The Prime Minister was furiously angry.

The phone clicked.

And went dead.

The Prime Minister looked over at the Controller of The Golem.

“It was probably a hacker/prankster with a really bad sense of humour, Mr. Prime Minister,” the Controller assured him, “one who’s watched one too many episodes of that American TV program Ancient Aliens.”

“Maybe,” the Prime Minister looked thoughtful, “or maybe something much more sinister.”

Outside the limousine, some New York City doomsayer held up a placard that bore a verse from II Thessalonians Chapter 2, “And for this cause God shall send them strong delusion, that they should believe a lie.” -II Thessalonians 2: 11.

A billboard across the street read, “God was just an astronaut.”

To be continued.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Thursday October 1st
2015.

Permalink 36 Comments

Testing The Trinity

July 16, 2015 at 8:23 pm (Avatar Speaks, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, News, The Supernatural) (, , , , , , , , )

Testing The Trinity

O blessed glorious Trinity,
bones to philosophy, but milk to faith,
Which, as wise serpents, diversely
Most slipperiness, yet most entanglings hath…

-A Litany, John Donne

Los Alamos, New Mexico, July 16th 1945 5:30 AM

A huge giant flash of light in the form of a gigantic mushroom cloud beams from the arid New Mexico desert.

As Catholic villagers in the nearby historic Hispanic town of Tularosa crossed themselves, fell to their knees and prayed, fearing the end of the world, the custodians of the Manhattan Project judged the Trinity Test in southern New Mexico a success.

Arising from the half-mile crater at Trinity Site was a being invisible to most- a dark charcoal black winged figure huge in size and a giant in stature.

An ancient being released again upon this earth.

Abaddon the Destroyer.

He had indeed been awakened.

But it had been decreed by the Trinity eons ago that it would take 70 years for Abaddon to regain his full strength.

July 16th 2015 Mid-Town Manhattan NYC 7:30 AM (5:30 AM in Los Alamos New Mexico)- a UN diplomat looks out his apartment window and imagines he sees a dark gigantic shadow over the city…

And seems to hear an eerily deep voice that says, “It won’t be the Trinity that’s tested but man…”

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Thursday July 16th
2015.

Permalink 8 Comments

Top 10 Reasons Why Kim Jong-un Won’t Be Interviewed By David Letterman In New York City

December 21, 2014 at 9:01 pm (Commentary, Entertainment, Geopolitics and International Relations, Movies, News, Quotations and Sayings of Dracul Van Helsing, Television, TV Shows) (, , , , , , , , , , )

Top 10 Reasons Why Kim Jong-un Won’t Be Interviewed By David Letterman In New York City

#10. Is worried he’ll be forced to apologize if he throws a fit being served peanuts in a bag on a Korean Airlines flight to America

#9. He’s already seen most of the in-flight movies on his home computer screen

#8. Deathly afraid of subliminal swearing that might come through on his Sony headphones while in flight

#7. Doesn’t know where to go for Korean food in Times Square

#6. Very worried that New York City cab drivers won’t accept North Korean currency

#5. He’ll have to wait until next year to see the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Santa Claus Parade

#4. Is worried that he’ll be asked to perform the Gangnam Style dance by stupid New York City tourists mistaking him for South Korean pop star Psy

#3. Is very worried that pigeons in Central Park might mistake him for a statue

#2. Is deathly afraid that he might be assassinated by the CIA in the middle of a Stupid Pet Tricks routine on the Letterman Show

and the #1 reason why Kim Jong-un won’t be interviewed by David Letterman is

#1. He’s already been asked by Ellen DeGeneres

-A Top 10 List For
David Letterman
written by Christopher
Sunday December 21st
2014.

Permalink 4 Comments

Pan Goatee On Park Avenue

April 11, 2014 at 7:15 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, News, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , )

Pan Goatee On Park Avenue

The New York City billionaire hid behind a curtain in his Park Avenue apartment as he spoke to Pan Goatee.

Pan figured the man was possibly either quite shy or extremely ugly or maybe both.

As Pan heard a rustling behind the curtains that overlooked a grotesque face painted on a globe of the world that sat on a throne in front of the black curtain, a parrot in a cage on a nearby table squawked, “Toto, I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore! Squawk! Toto, I’ve got the feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore. Squawk!”.

A gun emerged from behind the curtain and was fired.

The parrot fell to the copy of The Wall Street Journal on the floor of his bird cage- quite dead.

“You’re right,” a voice behind the curtain said, “you’re not in Kansas anymore.”

Pan was starting to feel a kinship with the billionaire behind the curtains after he watched this display.

“I understand,” the billionaire looked at a copy of Pan Goatee’s resume behind the curtain as he spoke, “that you have the ability to astral project
and that furthermore you have the ability to kill people with your astral body using either an astral machete or an astral semi-automatic.”

“That is correct,” Pan Goatee beamed from ear to ear on his furry, fuzzy unshaven face.

He was quite proud of his skills and abilities.

“And I understand,” the billionaire flipped over to the second page of the genetically created half-man half-goat satyr serial killer’s 666-page resume, “that you’re able to shape-shift into various human forms and appearances with your astral body?”.

“And other life forms as well,” Pan Goatee stuck out his chest proudly.

He was currently working on doing a lifelike impersonation of Kermit the Frog with his astral body.

“I want you,” the billionaire spoke, “to astral project to the so-called Holy Land and while there to kill multitudes of people. You’re to kill a whole bunch of Palestinians while looking like a Jewish settler and then to kill a whole bunch of Israeli Jews while looking like a fighter of the Fatah al-Aqsa Martyrs’ Brigade. Will you do it?”.

Pan Goatee had in fact done such a very thing for free last autumn while in the area of Jerusalem’s Temple Mount.

He had done it as a practical joke to keep himself amused.

“Sure,” Pan Goatee replied, “how much will you pay me?”.

“I’ll pay you $100,000 per person you kill,” the billionaire answered.

“All right,” Pan Goatee answered as he looked down at his fingernails and figured they could use a good manicure, “how many people do you want me to kill?”.

“As many as possible,” the billionaire answered, “whatever amount it takes to start an all-out war between Israel and the Palestinians.”

To be continued.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday April 11th
2014.

Permalink Leave a Comment

Pan Goatee In The Big Apple

April 8, 2014 at 7:32 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, International Espionage, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , )

Pan Goatee In The Big Apple

U.S. government hired assassin and serial killer Pan Goatee was back from a few weeks’ vacation in the Caribbean.

He had gone there after being de-thawed in a DARPA research lab.

Pan Goatee had been frozen after he had been caught in a terrible Washington DC snow storm back in early February.

He had spent several weeks in a state of frozen animation in a DARPA research lab while DARPA scientists tried to figure out how to de-thaw him.

Finally DARPA brought in the Aztec Vampire Princess Qonzilqointec who was able to de-thaw the genetically created half- man half-goat satyr by performing a ritual act of tantric sex with him.

One DARPA research scientist was so impressed by what he saw that he bought the patent for the tantric ritual sex act he saw being performed.

He resigned his position as a research scientist at DARPA and proclaimed himself a tantric sex guru.

He was currently in the process of negotiating a live TV interview with Oprah.

As for Pan Goatee- after being de-thawed, he went down to the Caribbean to get some warm tropical sun and get back a healthy looking sun tan that had faded away while he was in a state of frozen animation.

He spent some time smoking pot with Rastafarians.

He spent the rest of his time making out with the beautiful members of an all-girls’ reggae band.

When he returned to his Washington DC penthouse, there were several voice mail messages waiting for him as he didn’t bother checking his voice mail while he was soaking up the Caribbean sun, smoking pot and banging the luscious beauties that were the all-girls’ reggae band.

On his voice mail, there was a message waiting for him from a New York City billionaire.

The message said that the man had a job for him to do for which he would be paid an exorbitant fee.

Pan Goatee liked the sound of those two words “exorbitant fee” so agreed to fly to NYC to meet the man.

Now here he was in the Big Apple standing on the observation deck of the Empire State Building looking over the city that some long-dead mayor had once called “Little old New York”.

The Mossad agent who also stood on the observation deck and was watching Pan Goatee removed his mobile phone from his pocket and called the Controller of the Golem at Mossad headquarters in Jerusalem.

“The target is within range, sir,” the agent spoke.

“Unfortunately I’m unable to get the authorization of the cabinet to approve the assassination,” the Controller of the Golem sighed.

“That’s too bad,” the agent said.

“Too bad indeed,” the Controller of the Golem hung up the phone and looked outside the window of his office where he thought he could see UFO flying saucers flying over Jerusalem.

As Pan Goatee surveyed the night sky of the Big Apple, he thought he could see UFO flying saucers flying over the bright lights of the city.

A serpent beamed down from the biggest UFO on to the top of one of the gothic spires of the Episcopal Cathedral of Saint John the Divine.

To be continued.

– A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday April 8th
2014.

Permalink Leave a Comment

Haiku About Hitler’s Ghost Having A Cocktail In NYC

September 16, 2013 at 7:33 pm (Poetry, The Supernatural) (, , , , , , , , )

Hitler’s ghost sips drink

first take Manhattan then you…

take Berlin then world

Permalink Leave a Comment

Next page »