One Wedding and A Funeral But Zero Hugh Grants

May 16, 2018 at 11:02 pm (Culture, Ghost Story, History, News, Romance, The Supernatural) (, , , , )

A very interesting blog post that Christine has written about May 19th – the date that Meghan Markle and Prince Harry have chosen for their wedding.

In this fascinating piece of writing, Christine even brings in Anne Boleyn’s ghost in a blog post that’s part history lesson and part ghost story.

Histories and Mysteries

All eyes will be on St. George’s Chapel at Windsor Castle next Saturday, May 19, 2018 as Prince Harry ties the knot with his American princess, Meghan Markle.

The event has been dubbed the ‘wedding of the century’ – much in the same way the wedding of Harry’s parents, Prince Charles and Lady Diana Spencer back in 1981 was the ‘wedding of the (20th) century’.  These nuptials, however, are filled with controversy.

In case you have been living under a rock, or missing the News, I will fill you in on the juicy details.

Former bad boy and beloved troublemaker Prince Harry – AKA Henry Charles Albert David Windsor, Prince of Wales – announced his engagement to American actress Meghan Markle on November 27, 2017.  Harry’s former outrageous antics include underage drinking, pot smoking, dressing as a Nazi for a costume party, and being photographed naked after he…

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Renfield and The Katsushika Hokusai Painting of A Wedding In Cana of Galilee

November 27, 2017 at 9:47 pm (Art, Arts, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, News, Romance, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , )

Renfield and The Katsushika Hokusai Painting of A Wedding In Cana of Galilee

Dashwood Forrest the owner of the Dashwood Forrest Art Gallery in London England entered the Westminster parliamentary office of Renfield R. Renfield MP.

“Mr. Renfield,” Dashwood said, “I would like to thank you for saving my art gallery from being robbed last week.”

“That’s all right, Dash,” Renfield smiled, “I just happened to be walking by your gallery at the time and noticed it was being robbed. It gave me a chance to practice my Kung Fu and Karate skills.”

“I hope the courts give a severe punishment to the perpetrators,” Dashwood frowned.

“Well some of our judges are bleeding hearts but in this case I think the perpetrators got the punishment they deserve,” Renfield grinned.

The MP never bothered to inform Dashwood that he had fed the robbers to the giant piranhas owned by the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set.

“I had paintings worth several millions of dollars in that particular exhibit which were on loan to me,” Forrest breathed heavily, “and of course I couldn’t afford the insurance on them so I didn’t get them insured. You saved me from bankruptcy by stopping that robbery.”

“Glad to help out,” Renfield smiled.

“As a token of my appreciation and thanks, I’d like to give you this painting I recently came in possession of,” Forrest handed him a wrapped package 📦, “have you ever heard of the great Japanese artist Katsushika Hokusai?”.

“Yes I have,” Renfield nodded.

“It’s a very rare Hokusai painting,” Dashwood explained, “one unheard of by most art historians. It’s a painting of the wedding in Cana of Galilee at which Jesus turned water into wine 🍷. It had been hidden in Hokusai’s own lifetime because Christianity and Christian depictions in art were illegal in Japan at the time.”

“Wow, it must be a really valuable painting then,” Renfield held a napkin in front of his mouth so that Dashwood Forrest wouldn’t see him salivating, “are you sure you want to give it to me?”.

“It’s the least I could do,” said a grateful Dashwood Forrest.

Later Renfield went to an exclusive London restaurant so he could meet with an aide-de-camp to German Chancellor Angela Merkel to discuss British-German relations.

As he sat there at his table, Prince Harry and his fiancée Meghan Markle were then seated by the head waiter at the table next to him.

“Say,” Prince Harry spoke to Renfield, “aren’t you Renfield R. Renfield the new Member of Parliament for the Tewkesbury In The Cotswolds constituency?”.

“I am,” Renfield smiled at the prince’s recognition.

“My grandmother speaks quite highly of you,” Prince Harry was referring to the Queen, “she mentioned how you rescued one of her corgis from drowning in a swimming pool.”

“I just did what any loyal British subject would do,” Renfield smiled.

Renfield did not mention the fact that he was the one who threw the corgi into the swimming pool in the first place when everyone else’s back was turned so he could then play the role of hero and earn the gratitude of a grateful Queen.

“My grandmother also thinks you’ll make a great Prime Minister some day,” the Prince continued with his praise, “probably Britain’s greatest since Churchill.”

Renfield did not have the heart or the modesty to disagree with this flattering description of himself so he just said, “Allow me to congratulate you both on your engagement 💍.”

“Thank you,” Prince Harry and Meghan said simultaneously.

“I was going to have this engagement present I got the two of you delivered to you later but seeing as how you’re both here, I’ll give it to you now,” Renfield handed over the package containing the Katsushika Hokusai painting.

When they opened it, Renfield gave the historical background of the painting that he had gotten from Dashwood Forrest.

“Wow, thank you,” said Prince Harry.

“I think this honourable gentleman should have an invitation to our wedding 👰, don’t you, Harry?” Meghan said.

“Of course,” the Prince agreed.

And that’s how Renfield R. Renfield the freshman MP managed to wriggle an invitation to a Royal Wedding.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Monday November 27th

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Amadeus’ Surprise

April 27, 2011 at 9:12 pm (Humour, Vampire novel) (, , , , , )

Renfield R. Renfield was feeling depressed.

He still had not received an invitation to Prince William and Kate Middleton’s Royal Wedding at Westminster Abbey this coming Friday and time was running out.

He still had not picked up a tuxedo not wanting to spend any money unless he was definitely going.

Then to top it off the guy he had killed last Friday (as an act of vengeance for the fellow stealing the last tuna fish sandwich on a plate that Renfield had wanted at a party two years ago) the Death Heavy Metal Lord Stryker had apparently risen from the dead this past Easter Sunday morning according to the radio broadcast of Coast To Coast AM With George Noory he had heard on short wave from the U.S. last night.

He did not bother opening the mansion front door when he heard a knock.

Instead Amadeus Emanon who was still busy eating all the chocolate Easter Bunnies and chocolate Easter eggs he had got last Sunday was forced to go answer it.

It was the post man with a registered letter for Mister Amadeus Emanon.

Amadeus signed for it with his chocolatey fingers to which the Royal Mail letter carrier harrumphed before leaving.

He then opened the letter with his chocolate covered fingers and smiled.

“What is it?” Renfield asked out of curiosity.

“It’s from Buckingham Palace,” Amadeus smiled a most alluring smile, “they apologized for being so late but here’s my personal invitation to William and Kate’s wedding this Friday.”

“What the F—?” Renfield’s face turned redder than a Communist lobster in heat and the throes of sexual passion, “how the Hell did you get an invitation to the Royal Wedding and I didn’t?.”

“Remember a few weeks ago,” Amadeus calmly bit into another chocolate Easter Bunny, “when I was invited to give that Johann Sebastian Bach piano recital at St. Martin’s Church in the Lincolnshire city of Stamford?”.

“The one you invited me to go with you and I turned it down because I said who wants to visit some hick place in the sticks of England?” Renfield started involuntarily sprouting his hamster whiskers.

“That’s the one,” Amadeus then bit into a chocolate Easter egg, “anyhow it turns out Kate Middleton’s parents were in Stamford that day and they dropped into Saint Martin’s Church for my recital of Bach. They were so impressed with my virtuoso performance they said they would try to get me an invitation to their daughter and Will’s wedding. Then they asked me if I had any friends with me that would like to go. Athelstan was with me so they said they would try to get him in.”

Athelstan was the butler and valet to the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set.

As Amadeus finished the story and finished his egg, Athelstan came in from the kitchen looked pleased as punch.

“I just got a registered letter at the kitchen back door,” Athelstan beamed so highly that it looked like his smile reached the beams of the high-ceilinged living room of the colossal mansion, “I’ve been invited to the Royal Wedding of Prince William and Kate Middleton.”

Renfield started banging his own head on the table next to him.

An hour later he finally knocked himself out.

To be continued.

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Goo and Gum and Gnashing of Teeth

April 17, 2011 at 9:05 pm (Horror, Humour, Mystery, Mystery/horror, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , )

Renfield R. Renfield and Amadeus Emanon are watching the BBC News on television.

“More on our main story on the death of financier Trevor Fontaine later,” the BBC News announcer intoned, “but in other news a body that was found in the street below the hotel where Mr. Fontaine was eaten by grey goo self-replicating nanobots has now been identified. The body that was apparently drained of all its blood has been identified as that of London’s notorious Russian Mafia hitman Dmitri Ibumpuov. Further reports suggest that the night after Mr. Ibumpuov was brought into the Scotland Yard morgue, the body mysteriously disappeared. There are rumours that Mr. Ibumpuov is now a vampire.”

“Wow, a vampire assassin,” Amadeus Emanon munched on his popcorn.

“Might come in handy some day,” Renfield sent a text message to the Assassins For Hire On-Line Employment Bulletin Board that said, “Anybody there called Dmitri Ibumpuov?”.

“Getting back to our main story, authorities still have no idea who created the grey goo self-replicating nanobots that ate Mr. Fontaine,” the BBC announcer said, “and whether it was part of a plot to stop the new global currency that Mr. Fontaine was working on. As for the grey goo self-replicating nanobots themselves, they apparently choked to death trying to eat a huge wad of bubble gum that had been left on the hotel hallway carpet.”

“So it looks like the nanobots you made weren’t so indestructible after all,” Amadeus remarked as he blew a huge bubble with his bubble gum.

“Harrumph,” Renfield snorted.

“And still in other news, eccentric London concert pianist Amadeus Emanon somehow inadvertently wandered into a press conference where the Prince of Wales was lamenting the tragic death of financier Trevor Fontaine… here are some clips from that…”

“You were at a press conference with the Prince of Wales?” Renfield’s ears turned fiery red, “you never told me that.”

On the screen,

Amadeus Emanon: Tell me your Highness, if you found out who it was that created the grey goo self-replicating nanobots that ate Mr. Fontaine, would you invite such a person to your son Prince William’s wedding?

Prince Charles: You must be joking. I didn’t quite catch your name Mr. …?

“Emanon,” Amadeus replied.

“Emanon,” the prince nodded, “and what news outlet are you with?”.

“The Shapeshifting Hamster’s Daily Toilet Paper,” Amadeus answered with a wry smile.

“Never heard of that,” said the Prince of Wales, “I’ll have to check it out sometime. But in answer to your question, no. Not only would the individual who created these grey goo self-replicating nanobots not be invited to my son’s wedding but I would personally see to it that this individual was personally hung, drawn and quartered.”

Renfield looked at the TV screen- in a total state of shock- his face completely drained of all colour.

“In other news,” the BBC News Announcer smiled, “Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II has bestowed a posthumous honourary knighthood on Frank Henry Fleer the world’s first inventor of bubble gum…”

To be continued.

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Trevor Fontaine and The New Global Currency

April 13, 2011 at 10:03 pm (Horror, Mystery, Mystery/horror, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , )

Trevor Fontaine felt pleased with himself as he had a glass of champagne in his London hotel room.

He had had a meeting today with several important London financiers.

Tomorrow he would fly home to Paris the home of his company Giza Investments Ltd.

Actually it really wasn’t his company.

It belonged to the Egyptian Vampiress Isis.

But he was the front man for Isis in the world of finance.

This past weekend in Bretton Woods, New Hampshire, Fontaine had met with George Soros and other global movers and shakers in the world of finance, industry and government to set the groundwork for a new global currency.

It was this project- an idea highly favoured by his boss the Vampiress Isis- that had led to the stay over in London to brief various important City of London financiers about the project.

* * *

In another hotel room a few blocks away, Prince Suleiman bin Turki of the House of Saud who was 1,666th in line to the Saudi Arabian throne was making plans.

Well Prince Suleiman bin Turki of the House of Saud was always making plans.

He had spent the past two years plotting and trying to figure out how to get rid of the 1,665 people in front of him to the throne.

But now something else had occupied his mind.

He became aware of this new project to establish a new global currency.

But Prince Suleiman bin Turki’s plans for seizing the Saudi throne entailed the U.S. dollar remaining the de facto global currency for the next 5 years.

If a new global currency were introduced before then, this might upset his plans to become King of Saudi Arabia and ultimately the Caliph of the entire Islamic world.

Allah knew that Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad already had it in his own mind to become the Caliph of the entire Islamic world.

But it was Prince Suleiman’s destiny to become Caliph not Ahmadinejad’s or at least so the megalomaniacal Saudi prince figured in his own highly inflated egocentric opinion.

And as such, Suleiman determined that he was going to bump off those promoting the idea of a new global currency.

And he would start with Trevor Fontaine the CEO of Paris-based Giza Investments Ltd.

It had come to Prince Suleiman’s attention that Trevor Fontaine was in London this evening.

And so Suleiman had gone to a seedy area of London’s Soho District to track down an expert assassin and gunman for London’s local branch of the worldwide Russian Mafia.

Dmitri Ibumpuov had been easy to find provided you knew which palms to grease with the current de facto global currency.

After paying Ibumpuov half up-front for the job (the other half would be paid when the job was completed) and giving a photo and the location of the target Trevor Fontaine, Prince Suleiman went back to his own hotel room and started greasing his own palms while he looked at decadent western on-line porn sites of various beautiful women in interesting positions- something he was unable to do in his own native Saudi Arabia.

* * *

Trevor Fontaine sat on the sofa in his suite laughing his head off at an on-line commentary written by U.S. political commentator Glenn Beck.

Suddenly the door was kicked open and a man burst into the room shooting several bullets directly at him.

“You’re not… dead?” the man with a Russian accent stammered in English.

“No, I’m a vampire,” Fontaine smiled and then proceeded to bite the man on the neck draining him of all his blood.

He then opened the window and threw the body down into the street.

“It’s a rather difficult thing to kill me,” Fontaine laughed while looking down at the body, “tonight is not my night to die.”

Those were Fontaine’s last words before he was attacked by grey goo self-replicating nanobots who ate the vampire alive.

* * *

“Eureka! Vengeance is mine!” Renfield R. Renfield laughed with hearty abandon.

“What’s up?” Amadeus looked up from the peanut butter and jelly sandwich he was eating.

“Well remember that fellow Charles Simeon who stole my tuna fish sandwiches two Fridays ago?” Renfield asked, “And how someone killed him before I had the chance to kill him?”.

“Frankly, you’ve never stopped yacking about it,” Amadeus tried his best to do a Clark Gable Rhett Butler impersonation with his mouth full of peanut butter.

“Well I found out who Charles Simeon worked for,” Renfield helped himself to a freshly made tuna fish sandwich, “it was Trevor Fontaine the CEO of Giza Investments Ltd. And I found out Mr. Fontaine was staying in a hotel here in London and so all those grey goo self-replicating nanobots I created in the lab last night I sent to Fontaine’s hotel room earlier this evening and now I’ve just got a report over the Scotland Yard police radio that Fontaine was eaten alive by them. So I’ve killed two birds with one stone. I’ve got my vengeance on the thief who stole my tuna fish sandwiches by killing his employer. And I’ve proved Prince Charles’ theory about grey goo self-replicating nanobots being harmful to be correct. So now Prince Charles will probably invite me to his son’s wedding.”

* * *

Away from the glare of both the British and French news media, Prince Charles was spending a quiet evening in an exclusive Parisienne cafe in the company of a beautiful woman who was wearing a stylishly and classically elegant gold evening dress.

The woman’s name was Isis and unknown to the Prince of Wales, she was a vampiress.

The purpose of the meeting was strictly platonic.

Isis had invited the Prince to discuss an article Trevor Fontaine had written in favour of a new global currency for the Council On Foreign Relations’ Foreign Affairs Magazine.

“An excellent article,” the Prince of Wales said, “I would like to meet its author in person. I really would. This gives me some ideas I’d like to discuss with my country’s Prime Minister David Cameron.”

At that moment, the cafe owner turned up the volume of the cafe’s TV which was set to CNN.

The story was about how Giza Investments Ltd. CEO Trevor Fontaine was eaten alive by grey goo self-replicating nanobots in a London hotel room.

The Vampiress Isis immediately excused herself and ran hurriedly from the cafe in her clicking spiked stiletto high-heeled shoes.

Once outside in the Paris night air, she emitted a nocturnal scream that seemed to shake the Eiffel Tower itself.

For the man, who in addition to being her front man in the world of finance, was able to successfully channel the spirit of her dead son Horus was now himself dead.

To be continued.

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Grey Goo Self-Replicating Nanobots

April 12, 2011 at 7:57 pm (Horror, Humour, Mystery/horror, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , )

Amadeus Emanon carefully observed what Renfield R. Renfield was doing in the Set Enterprises Lab.

He decided he had no idea what it was exactly the evil shapeshifting human/hamster was doing.

So he decided to ask him.

“What are you doing, Renfield?” Amadeus asked.

“I’m creating some grey goo self-replicating nano-robots or as some people call them grey goo self-replicating nanobots for short,” Renfield replied.

“I see,” Amadeus took another bite of his hot fudge sundae, “but why?”.

“Well as you know, I’ve been trying to get an invitation to attend Prince William and Kate Middleton’s wedding but as you no doubt have sadly observed I’ve failed in all my attempts to get one,” said Renfield.

“Well actually I’ve observed that but not in a sad fashion,” Amadeus stated in a remark that seemed to piss off Renfield judging from the expression on his face, “so how is creating grey goo self-replicating nanobots going to help you get an invitation to the Royal Wedding?”.

“Well shortly after the start of this century, Prince Charles gave a speech to a group of scientists in which he said that it was his fear that the world might be destroyed by grey goo self-replicating nanobots,” Renfield explained, “he was immediately laughed at by the scientists and was heavily ridiculed in the press. Some even went so far as to say that the prince was off his rocker.”

Renfield showed Amadeus a video of Prince Charles falling off his rocking horse while playing polo in the midst of a group of toy soldiers.

“Now if I can create some grey goo self-replicating nanobots and let them loose somewhere,” Renfield grinned, “this will show the world that the Prince of Wales was right in his warning and His Royal Highness will ask Will and Kate to send me an invitation to their wedding.”

“I don’t know what to say to that,” Amadeus looked at Renfield in a stunned fashion.

The heavens must have already had their opinion because seconds later Renfield fell off his rocking chair.

To be continued.

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