Pan Goatee Tries His Hand At Reality Therapy While Renfield Muses On Brexit and The Irish Backstop

September 9, 2019 at 10:59 pm (Aesthetics, Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, News, Politics, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , )

Pan Goatee Tries His Hand At Reality Therapy While Renfield Muses On Brexit and The Irish Backstop

Satyr serial killer Pan Goatee was headed to the food court of the neighbourhood mall when suddenly he encountered a repulsively ugly looking white female that was a semi-human stoat hybrid.

The ugly looking creature seemed to be walking from the public library across the square.

Goatee correctly deduced that she was walking from the public library because like all people who are both female and ugly, she no doubt fancied herself an intellectual – something common to these creatures who thought that being both female and ugly automatically put them in that category of society known as intellectuals.

Goatee knew that this was faulty slop shodded reasoning because the most intellectual woman he had ever encountered in his life was a beautiful Malaysian woman who resided in a quiet Bavarian village.

“You pathetic ugly looking loser!” Goatee discoursed in therapeutic commentary that was never heard on TV programs like Dr. Phil as he beheaded the creature from the dung heaps of Beelzebub.

Meanwhile over in England, British MP Renfield R. Renfield was having a discussion on Brexit and the Irish backstop with his friend Amadeus Emanon.

“There is now of course thanks to my date with the vampiress Polish Countess Elena Dubrovna this past Saturday the possibility that Poland, Hungary or the Czech Republic if not all 3 will veto any extension to Brexit going on beyond October 31st of this year,” Renfield ate a piece of pumpkin pie with whipped cream on top.

“I hear pro-New World Order EU nations may also veto any EU deal on Brexit if it doesn’t exactly resemble the deal negotiated by Theresa May,” Amadeus noted.

“They have,” Renfield nodded, “which is why I’ve sent a cable to Vladimir Putin saying the UK would secretly approve any annexation of the said EU nations to the Russian Federation should Putin wish to go ahead with something like that.”

“I see,” Amadeus started to eat his own slice of pumpkin pie with whipped cream.

“Boris Johnson seemed to have quite an amenable meeting with Irish Taoiseach (Prime Minister) Leo Varadkar today,” Renfield started eating his Guinness laced shepherd’s pie, “It seems Varadkar is quite amiable to the idea of the backstop applying to Northern Ireland only instead of the United Kingdom as a whole. Unlike the Neo-Stalinist assholes in the EU bureaucracy in Brussels who want all of Britain to remain under the thumb of EU directives as EU bureaucrats seek to establish their idea of a Stalinist-Trotskyite synthesis Soviet United States of Europe which is definitely a recipe for a disaster in the making.”

“But won’t the Democratic Unionist Party remove their support from the British Conservative government given that they’re staunchly opposed to a Northern Ireland only backstop?” Amadeus queried.

“Of course the ghosts of both Winston Churchill and Orson Welles have informed me that the ghost of the Democratic Unionist Party’s founding leader the Rev. Ian Paisley is roasting away on a barbecue spit in Purgatory which is even more offensive to his Irish Scots Presbyterian sensibilities than if he was roasting away on a barbecue spit in the flames of Tartarus itself,” Renfield answered.

“Well despite Rev. Paisley discovering the Hell that Catholic doctrine is in fact true even though the current head of the Catholic Church Pope Francis no longer believes in Catholic doctrine, how does this take away from the fact that the DUP (Democratic Unionist Party) is staunchly opposed to a Northern Ireland only backstop?” Amadeus wanted to know.

“Well,” Renfield poured more Guinness on his shepherd’s pie, “I’ve already advised Boris Johnson to tell the Democratic Unionist Party to go fuck themselves.”

“Even though that’s biologically physically anatomically impossible,” Amadeus noted.

“Exactly,” Renfield grinned.

-A vampire novel chapter 
written by Christopher
Monday September 9th
2019.

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Amadeus Emanon and Pan Deux At A Saint Ninian’s Day Debate On Scottish Independence

September 17, 2014 at 6:54 pm (Commentary, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, News, Politics, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , )

Amadeus Emanon and Pan Deux At A Saint Ninian’s Day Debate On Scottish Independence

“What’s in a name?” William Wallace Rob Roy James Stuart Douglas the Scottish National Party Member of the Scottish Parliament (MSP) for The Eildon Hills asked his Scottish audience in Edinburgh at a Saint Ninian’s Day debate on Scottish independence.

Saint Ninian (360-432 AD) was the first Apostle of Christianity in Scotland.

William Wallace Rob Roy James Stuart Douglas was of course speaking for the pro-independence Yes Scotland side of the Scottish independence debate.

His opponent on this occasion was Welsh werewolf British Labour MP Magog Rhys Petley (who was a sitting Welsh member of the Westminster Parliament in London) who was speaking for the No side anti-independence UK Better Together movement.

“Scotland the Brave,” William Wallace Rob Roy James Stuart Douglas shouted, “as the song title says. My fellow Scots, be brave as our forefathers who fought the tyrant Edward I of England were brave. Be brave as our forefathers who fought for Bonnie Prince Charlie at Culloden were brave. Be brave and vote yes to a free and independent Scotland this September 18th. Be brave as we know Scotland surely is. Scotland the Brave! Yes, Scotland.”

William Wallace Rob Roy James Stuart Douglas left the stage with one fist raised in the air.

He received a standing ovation from his audience with the exception of the members of the Orange Order who sat on their hands.

Tears ran down the cheeks of the Orange Order members’ faces.

Not due to anything that William Wallace Rob Roy James Stuart Douglas said.

They were still mourning the recent death of the Rev. Ian Paisley of Belfast, Northern Ireland.

The moderator of the debate then called on the man who would be championing the Orange Order’s cause this afternoon- the far-left hardline Marxist-Leninist British Labour MP Magog Rhys Petley.

Magog went up the platform to the microphone.

He recognized a few people in the crowd.

Among the familiar faces was one Amadeus Emanon the personal concert pianist to the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set whom he had met on a few occasions.

Another was Pan Deux a Scottish bagpiper who seemed to have really hairy almost goat like legs under his tartan kilt.

Pan Deux had been quite literally driven out of the City of London as his incessant bagpipe playing had kept most of the city awake at night.

As a result Pan Deux took the high road and went up to Scotland where his talents were far more appreciated and he had since embraced the Scottish independence movement.

As Magog continued to look around, he spotted Sangita Patel Douglas the lovely wife of his debate opponent William Wallace Rob Roy James Stuart Douglas.

She looked resplendently beautiful and incredibly sexy in her lilac coloured blouse, short red tartan skirt, black silk fishnet pantyhose and red spiked stiletto high-heeled shoes.

Magog felt himself becoming sexually aroused which was a problem for the Welsh werewolf British Labour MP because every time he became sexually aroused, he turned into a werewolf.

The particular lycanthropy virus that he carried had this effect- he not only turned into a werewolf during the full moon but also whenever he became sexually aroused.

The antidote for the particular lycanthropy virus he had was buttermilk

If he drank buttermilk prior to a sexual encounter, he would not turn into a werewolf.

If he drank buttermilk if he unexpectedly became sexually aroused, this would also prevent his turning into a werewolf.

Alas he had not drank any buttermilk beforehand nor did there look to be buttermilk anywhere in the vicinity.

He must get a grip on himself he told himself.

Get himself under control he said to himself.

Stop thinking about sex he ordered his psyche.

“Well,” Magog began, “it’s as the Baptist couple who had sex while standing up said… ‘united we stand, divided we fall’… so too must Britain stand united…”

There were murmurings around the hall as he said this.

“Oh God,” the atheistic Marxist MP thought to himself, “what am I thinking?”.

He turned to look at Amadeus Emanon and as he did so, he suddenly noticed the New Orleans songstress Angelique Dumont sitting next to him.

She was wearing a stylish black evening dress slit up the side and ravishingly sexy red silk nylons.

“Oh dear,” Magog thought to himself.

He was a big fan of the New Orleans actress and singer who appeared in many West End London musicals that he attended just to see her.

Already he could feel the Lon Chaney Jr. Larry Talbot style whiskers appearing on his face and eating and drinking the last of his morning aftershave lotion.

He ran behind the curtain and started howling like a werewolf.

“Mr. Chairman,” William Wallace Rob Roy James Stuart Douglas rose to his feet and addressed the debate moderator, “I really must protest this unusual behavior currently being displayed by my opponent the Honourable Member from Westminster. Such howling and snarling such as coming from backstage is definitely uncalled for. I’d hardly expect such beastly animalistic behavior coming from a Welshman. I’d expect such ghastly sass from a Sassanach but not a fellow Celt.”

“Do something,” Sangita Patel Douglas whispered to Pan Deux.

Pan Deux started playing his bagpipes to drown out the sound of the howling and baying at the absent moon coming from backstage.

Amadeus went up on stage and started singing that old Scottish song Donald, Where’s Your Troosers?

Unfortunately the only version he knew was his co-employee Renfield R. Renfield’s version which was even more colourful and risqué than the original:

“Oh, I went out on the Isle of Skye
I got goosed by a fruity guy
All the laddies say hello
Donald, where’s your troosers?

Let the wind blow high, let the wind blow low
Flashing my kilt along I go
Waving my dickie to all my friends
Donald, where’s your troosers?” .

Edinburgh police were called to quell the ensuing riot as the moderator and chairman declared the debate over and the meeting adjourned.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday September 16th
2014
The Feast Day of Saint Ninian

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