3-D Printing The Temple of Solomon

March 28, 2018 at 10:35 pm (Avatar Speaks, Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, History, International Intrigue, News, Politics, Religion, Science-Fiction, Technology, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , )

3-D Printing The Temple of Solomon

British MP Renfield R. Renfield was sitting alone in his parliamentary office.

The ghost of Sir Winston Churchill wasn’t present because he was being forced to attend a ghostly cocktail party in Purgatory at which the ghost of Lady Astor would be present.

“Like Hamlet’s father’s ghost in Shakespeare’s famous Danish play,” Churchill roared in a paraphrase of Hamlet’s spectral paternal parent, “it is at parties like these where the bad things I did in my days of nature are thoroughly punished.”

“Well, it could be worse,” the atheist Renfield, with no belief in Purgatory, remarked sympathetically, “you could be in Tartarus where Hitler’s ghost is.”

Renfield was unaware that Hades the god of the Underworld had temporarily released Hitler’s spirit from Tartarus at the request of the Norse/Germanic god Odin/Wotan (Churchill’s ghost was likewise unaware of Hitler’s reprieve at the hands of Persephone’s husband).

Hitler’s spirit had entered the body of a grey wolf 🐺 and was currently hanging out with the anti-Semitic ancient Babylonian vampiress Lilith as well as paying the occasional visit to Vladimir Putin although Putin was unaware that the grey wolf was possessed by Hitler’s ghost.

Speaking of Hitler and Putin, Renfield was quite pleased with himself because earlier today he had hacked into Russia’s state run television network and put in an image of Vladimir Putin with Hitler’s moustache and haircut that appeared on the TV screen whenever the network ran a news story where the Russian leader was mentioned.

Putin was absolutely livid and furious when he found out and gave the order to all of 🇷🇺 Russia’s intelligence services to find the one responsible and bump that person off with the Novichok nerve agent (at the same time as Putin issued the directive, Russian Foreign Minister Sergei Lavrov was giving a press conference in which he emphatically denied that Russia 🇷🇺 was in current possession of the nerve agent).

Renfield had tossed a few bread crumbs to the Russian intelligence services in his speech in the Commons today by continuously referring to Putin as “the Slavic Hitler” in his speech but so far the Russian agencies did not have an intellectual equivalent of Britain’s Sherlock Holmes to pick up on the Renfieldian hints.

Neither for that matter did America’s intelligence services since Donald Trump did not tweet about the subject.

Meanwhile Renfield R. Renfield was currently examining an MI-5 and MI-6 report on a British company called Palmyra Analytica.

The reason Renfield read the report as soon as he heard about it was because his creator Dr. Cadbury Rocher of Set Enterprises was currently doing freelance consulting work for Palmyra Analytica.

Dr. Rocher was building a 3-D printer for Palmyra Analytica.

The 3-D printer when completed would be capable of producing an exact copy (down to the smallest and most exact detail) of the original Temple of Solomon built by Solomon himself.

Renfield was horrified to discover when reading the report that Palmyra Analytica was in fact owned by a front company that was owned by his former boss Set’s arch enemies the Paris-based Egyptian vampiress Isis and the Rome-based Egyptian vampire Osiris.

“Why,” Renfield wondered to himself, “do Isis and Osiris want to rebuild Solomon’s original Temple?”.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Wednesday March 28th
2018.

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Morgana, Donald Trump, Maitreya, Pan Goatee and John McCain

March 20, 2018 at 10:56 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, International Espionage, International Intrigue, News, Romance, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , )

Morgana, Donald Trump, Maitreya, Pan Goatee and John McCain

The Welsh Vampiress Morgana (MP for Newbridge in Wales 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿) walked into this evening’s caucus meeting of the two person British Transhumanist Party Caucus.

She was wearing a black lace lingerie style mini dress, black silk fishnet pantyhose and black spiked stiletto high-heeled shoes.

Despite the 6 inch stilettos she was wearing she had a certain spring to her step on this first day of spring and was positively glowing.

“Well, this is the happiest I think I’ve ever seen you,” her parliamentary colleague Renfield R. Renfield commented.

“Oh probably,” she continued to sit there smiling in ecstasy.

“Now on item 1 on tonight’s agenda, do you think we should side with Theresa May or Jeremy Corbyn on this particular amendment?” Renfield asked.

“Have you ever read the Kama Sutra?” Morgana stared dreamily into space.

“Um, no, I haven’t,” Renfield answered.

Renfield looked at Morgana.

Why was she bringing up the Kama Sutra? Renfield wondered to himself.

. . .

Meanwhile Pan Goatee was on a rampage killing a whole bunch of ugly women.

“How dare you ruin the first day of spring by showing your ugly faces in public?” Pan Goatee exclaimed as he used his laser machete to decapitate them.

A golden cobra wearing a crown made of shamrocks watched the spectacle with some amusement.

“I have heard of this noble creature who can astral project,” the serpent called Maitreya mused aloud, “he is able to create an astral laser machete with his mind. Impressive.
And what impressive work he is doing. “

The snake looked around at the decapitated heads before regurgitating his Irish shepherd’s pie (made with real Irish shepherds), “But hard, what sight though yonder mirror breaks?”.

. . .

Donald Trump was telling Lexington his English butler and valet about the day he had.

“And of course I phoned my old buddy Vladimir to congratulate him on his landslide election victory,” Trump beamed beatifically like a vampiress exposed to the Kama Sutra.

“Of course I think Mr. Putin does get on some people’s nerves through his agents,” Lexington remarked knowing that the remark would be totally lost on a Twitter aficionado like Mr. Trump.

“I suppose,” Trump stared blankly into space.

On the television, Arizona Republican Senator John McCain could be heard saying, “An American President does not lead the free world by congratulating dictators on winning sham elections.”

Trump grimaced.

Then said bitterly, “Real heroes don’t criticize a God like me.”

Later Lexington put a plate of French fries 🍟 down in front of Trump.

“Wow, these fries are delicious 😋,” Trump grabbed the fries as enthusiastically as he would grab a porn star’s pussy, “what brand of fries are these?”.

“I’ll make sure to ask the chef for you, sir,” Lexington answered.

“Please do,” Trump got a fry caught in his toupee.

Lexington walked away smiling at his own private joke.

Because Lexington himself had prepared these fries.

From a bag of McCain French Fries.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday March 20th
2018.

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Dashwood Forrest and Mulligan The Irish Zombie On O’ Connell Street In Dublin

March 18, 2018 at 10:55 pm (Comedy, Entertainment, Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, Humour, International Intrigue, News, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , )

Dashwood Forrest and Mulligan The Irish Zombie On O’ Connell Street In Dublin

Dashwood Forrest and his manservant Mulligan the Irish ☘️ Zombie 🧟‍♂️ were having breakfast 🥞 🍳 in a restaurant at a hotel on O’ Connell Street in Dublin.

Mulligan was nursing a king sized hangover having drank too many glasses of Kilkenny Irish Cream Ale on the Hill of Tara in County Meath for Saint Patrick’s Day yesterday.

He did give away one of his glasses of Kilkenny to a golden cobra named Maitreya who was undergoing an old Celtic Pagan ritual to make the snake the High King of Ireland.

But he did so in a hypnotic state (which would be the only possible state in which Mulligan the Irish Zombie 🧟‍♂️ would give away an alcoholic beverage that happened to be in his possession).

“If you don’t mind my saying so, you look to be in awfully bad shape,” the waiter said to Mulligan.

“That’s because I’ve got a hangover,” Mulligan answered while drinking tomato juice laced with three raw eggs 🥚 and Worcestershire sauce.

“You also look to be dead,” the waiter remarked as some of Mulligan’s decomposing flesh fell on his breakfast plate of kipper and poached eggs.

“I am,” Mulligan started leaking tomato juice and Worcestershire sauce from his armpits, “I’m a zombie.”

“If you’re a zombie, then why aren’t you sitting in the Dail (Irish Parliament)?” The waiter asked.

“There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t ask myself that very question,” Mulligan was debating with himself on whether or not he should order a Guinness as he noticed the old antique clock on the hotel restaurant wall was only 1 minute away from 12 noon.

“Who raised you from the dead?” The waiter asked.

“It was a South African witch doctor called Dr. Sterling Makabo who raised me from the dead,” Mulligan cut himself a slice of kipper and put it on his fork, “although he had actually been hired to raise my neighbour who was buried next to me in the cemetery from the dead but his corpse was still at his wake. A wake that apparently went on for fourteen days I might add. So when my neighbour did not answer Doctor Makabo’s call, I decided to do so. With the result that I’m now living the life of Riley.”

“Riley was the name of the man in the grave next to him,” Dashwood Forrest explained, “the fellow that Dr. Makabo was supposed to raise from the dead but his body was still at his wake as his buddies had been drinking so much, they forgot to take him to both his funeral and burial services.”

“Only in Ireland 🇮🇪 would this happen,” the waiter shook his head.

“I would have to agree,” Dashwood Forrest smelled the rose in his lapel.

At that moment on the television in the restaurant, the image of British MP Renfield R. Renfield appeared to comment on Vladimir Putin’s landslide Presidential election 🗳 victory in Russia 🇷🇺.

As Renfield pointed to a photo of Putin and made Freemasonic death by disembowelling gestures with his hands that would send YouTube conspiracy theory channel hosts into a whirlwind of frenzy, Mulligan remarked to Dashwood Forrest, “There’s the fellow who saved me from drowning in a bowl of punch at your mermaid 🧜‍♀️ painting art exhibit in London last year.”

“Was that before or after you became a zombie 🧟‍♂️?” The waiter asked.

“After,” Mulligan replied, “My mortal pre-zombie life came to an end when I drowned in a vat of Guinness.”

And speaking of Guinness, the antique clock in the restaurant struck 12 noon.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Sunday March 18th
2018.

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Renfield Discusses Dungeons With The Vampire Set

March 14, 2018 at 10:55 pm (Espionage, Geopolitics and International Relations, International Espionage, International Intrigue, News, Politics, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , )

Renfield Discusses Dungeons With The Vampire Set

Renfield R. Renfield MP was discussing the dungeons in the basement of the colossal West London mansion with the mansion’s owner and his former boss the billionaire ancient Egyptian Vampire Set.

“So you want to use part of the basement dungeons as interrogation chambers for MI-6?” Set inquired as he chewed on a roast crocodile.

“That’s right, Boss,” Renfield was used to calling the former Egyptian god of darkness and the desert by that name from the days when he used to work for him.

“Well of course part of the basement dungeons my new Chief of Security and Intelligence Gathering Sherrielock Holmes uses for her dominatrix service,” Set licked crocodile flesh off his fingers.

“I know,” Renfield adjusted the cushions under his tender buttocks, “it’s the other part of the basement dungeons that I’d use.”

“And what prisoners will you be keeping there?” Set belched into the evening air.

“Some Russian military intelligence officers we captured in Syria through the efforts of our allies Prince Vlad Dracula and the Israeli Mossad agent the Controller of the Golem,” Renfield replied.

“So you’re moving quickly against Putin’s Russia eh?” Set drank from a jar of Josef Stalin’s blood he kept for special occasions, “while Theresa May is publicly expelling 23 Russian diplomats from the UK, you’re privately rounding up members of Russia’s high-ranking military and intelligence services?”.

“That is correct,” Renfield said, “because if Putin wants to get into a pissing contest with me, he better have strong and powerful kidneys because mine are made of steel.”

Set who was privately worried these days (and nights) that he might finally be coming down with senility at his advanced age of a few thousand years wrinkled his forehead.

He was trying to remember if his Chief Scientist at Set Enterprises Dr. Cadbury Rocher had equipped Renfield R. Renfield with steel kidneys when he had genetically created him in a lab.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Wednesday March 14th
2018.

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Renfield Rescued By Norse Valkyrie and Then Discusses Putin With Churchill’s Ghost

March 6, 2018 at 11:50 pm (Detective story, Espionage, Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, International Espionage, International Intrigue, Mystery, Mythology, News, Politics, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , )

Renfield Rescued By Norse Valkyrie and Then Discusses Putin With Churchill’s Ghost

Last night Sir Renfield R. Renfield MP had been saved from drowning in the Thames River by the Norse Valkyrie Svipul who had been flying overhead at the time.

Mr. Renfield had found himself caught up in an avalanche of snow and a wave of rainwater while singing badly performed renditions of old Rod Stewart and Glen Campbell songs.

The combined avalanche/wave pushed Mr. Renfield into the icy Thames River where Mr. Renfield could not extricate himself from such a predicament unless he was wearing a pair of snow flippers which he wasn’t (namely because such an unusual pair of foot apparel – a combination of snow shoes and scuba flippers- hasn’t been invented yet).

Fortunately for Mr. Renfield, the Norse Valkyrie Svipul had been flying overhead at the time.

Also fortunately for Mr. Renfield, the Norse Valkyrie Svipul did not recognize him as the individual who had butchered the lyrics and melody of the Liebestod from Richard Wagner’s opera Tristan und Isolde while performing a filibuster on a Brexit bill in the Westminster House of Commons a couple of months earlier.

Otherwise she’d have probably let the shapeshifting hamster/human British Transhumanist MP drown.

Mr. Renfield was much warmer now having put on a dry pair of clothes and also having received a thorough bottom blistering spanking from the Norse Valkyrie Svipul (who it turns out was a good dominatrix friend of the immortal dominatrix Sherrielock Holmes).

Mr. Renfield was now seated in his parliamentary office on an extra extra extra comfortable cushion on his chair at his desk seated across from the ghost of Sir Winston Churchill.

“So according to the Foreign Secretary Mr. Johnson’s speech in the Commons earlier today,” Churchill sipped on his ghostly brandy, “a certain foreign power may be responsible for the unknown substance attack on former Russian spy Sergei Skripal and his daughter Yulia Skripal in what is now being called the Salisbury Incident.”

“Yes,” Renfield nodded, “the Russians will probably stonewall high enough around Salisbury that they’ll erect a Russian Stonehenge to match the Druidic one.”

“No doubt the invisible hand of Mr. Putin is behind this,” Churchill rubbed his ghostly chin thoughtfully with his ghostly fingers.

“Undoubtedly,” Renfield sipped his non-ghostly and definitely non-ghastly brandy.

“If these ghastly events continue,” Churchill bit his ghostly lip, “Vladimir Putin may have to be bumped off.”

“Yes, I’ll probably have to bump Vladimir Putin off,” Renfield agreed as he accepted the Raymond Red Reddington Award that had been given him by an admiring fellow blogger.

“Well,” Churchill peered at Renfield over his ghostly spectacles 👓, “If any person in the world is capable of bumping off the notorious Mr. Putin, it would be you, Mr. Renfield.”

“Well, it certainly wouldn’t be Donald Trump,” Renfield agreed.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday March 6th
2018.

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Preparations For War

February 21, 2018 at 9:58 pm (Commentary, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, International Intrigue, News, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , )

Preparations For War

The Spanish Civil War of 1936-39 had preceded the Nazi invasion of Poland and the outbreak of the Second World War.

In some ways, it served as a prelude to it.

The Spanish Republican side was supported by the Soviet Union, the Communist International and Mexico’s far left revolutionary government of the day.

The Spanish Nationalists were supported by Fascist Italy and Nazi Germany.

So Spain served as a backdrop for great foreign powers to conduct their proxy wars.

Far longer and bloodier than the Spanish Civil War has been the Syrian Civil War (from 2011 until the present) in which great foreign powers have likewise fought their proxy wars.

Saudi Arabia has backed Sunni Muslim militias against the Damascus led government of Syrian President Bashar al-Assad (which is supported by the government of Shiite Iran- Saudi Arabia’s arch enemy).

The U.S. supported the Kurds against the Islamist terrorist based Islamic State.

The victorious Kurds in parts of Syria now find themselves under attack by Turkish forces since the Kurds are seen as a threat to Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan’s desire to revive the Ottoman Empire with himself as Sultan.

Russia meanwhile is backing its ally Bashar al-Assad against any and all comers who would remove Assad from power.

The Lebanese Hezbollah movement (a Shiite ally of Iran) supports Assad.

Israel is now becoming involved in the Syrian conflict because it sees its arch enemy Iran as using a victorious Assad led Syria as a launching pad to attack Israel.

So the Syrian people now find themselves being used as quite literally sacrificial pawns in proxy wars fought between outside great powers.

It was upon this landscape of blood that ancient vampiress and medieval vampire now surveyed with their eyes.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Wednesday February 21st
2018.

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Vladimir Putin’s Dream

May 10, 2017 at 4:08 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, News, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , )

After a late evening spent in his office reading Donald Trump’s tweets and laughing his head off, Russian President Vladimir Putin was starting to feel tired.

He decided to lay down on the couch in his office and snooze for a while.

He dreamed he was walking through a small museum on the outskirts of Moscow.

In the center of the museum was a huge golden samovar.

Putin approached the samovar.

The soft gentle melodious voice of an unseen woman called from above the samovar, “Come and drink, Vladimir.”

Putin noticed some classically decorated tea cups and saucers on a table to the right of the samovar.

He picked up a cup and saucer and went over to the samovar and poured himself some tea from the tap.

He then went back to the table and put some honey as well as a slice of lemon in his tea.

He then drank,

And fell asleep in his dream.

Whereupon he dreamed a dream within his dream.

In the dream, he was standing on the banks of the Little Bighorn River in Montana.

He was approached by the great Lakota Sioux chief and holy man Sitting Bull.

Sitting Bull was carrying a pipe.

He handed the pipe to Putin and beckoned him to smoke from it.

Putin did so.

The smoke was soothing and pleasant.

Suddenly a huge crying eagle came down from the sky and Sitting Bull vanished.

Startled, Putin continued to smoke the pipe and then suddenly fell to the ground.

He then dreamed a dream within a dream within a dream.

In the dream, Putin dreamed that he was back in 19th Century Russia.

He was walking along a beach on the Black Sea when he suddenly noticed a beautiful young Russian girl walking and dancing in the surf along the shore.

Russian Girl Walking Along Black Sea Beach

She was surrounded by happy cheerful seagulls.

Suddenly a screeching eagle came down from the sky and scattered the seagulls.

The girl herself vanished into the sea.

Putin then woke up from his three layers of dreams.

And sat up on the couch.

The Russian leader rubbed his forehead.

He was really going to have to find someone with the wisdom of the Hebrew Biblical Prophet Daniel to interpret his dream.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Wednesday May 10th
2017.

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Vladimir Putin and The Nostradamus Painting

January 27, 2017 at 10:57 am (Espionage, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, International Espionage, International Intrigue, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , )

Russian President Vladimir Putin was getting an intelligence briefing from the Russian FSB on what the U.S. President-Elect Donald Trump was up to.

The FSB Intelligence Officer began his briefing by saying, “We owe a lot to our agency’s former East German Stasi scientist Dr. Nicht Werhoffen who invented an electronic receiver capable of picking up audio transmissions from the hair follicles of a red spider monkey fur toupee…”

“There are no limits to Russian ingenuity,” was President Putin’s observation.

“And those audio transmissions tell us that President-elect Trump is very interested in an oil painting that Nostradamus painted almost 5 centuries ago,” the FSB officer went on.

“I’ve seen the secret collection of Nostradamus paintings that the Hermitage in Saint Petersburg has,” Putin smiled, “It turns out we win World War III according to those paintings.”

“Yes, well in this particular Nostradamus painting, it shows the Vatican in Rome being attacked and destroyed by Muslim invaders,” the intelligence officer went on, “this particular painting was found underneath an old Coca-Cola Santa Claus drinking Coke poster in a privately owned Paris art gallery. Mr. Trump wants to buy it if it’s a genuine Nostradamus painting and give it as a gift to Pope Francis.”

“Another example of the new U.S. President-elect’s sense of humour,” Putin put a slice of lemon in his tea.

“We’ve been told by one of the more successful members of our FSB Psychic Research program (the less successful members are either dead compliments of a Red Army firing squad or else they’re freezing their asses off in Siberia) that embedded in this particular Nostradamus painting is the actual date of the Islamist attack on the Vatican,” the FSB Intelligence officer helped himself to some raisins from a dish of raisins.

“Did the psychic see what the date of the attack was?” Putin checked his Calendar and Day Planner on his smart phone.

“She was unable to make out the day or the month but she saw clearly that it was this year- 2017,” the intelligence officer answered.

“This psychic is a she?” Putin put down his cup of tea and looked with anticipation while waiting for the answer.

“Yes,” the intelligence officer nodded.

“Is she pretty?” Putin looked with even more anticipation for the answer.

“Well,” the intelligence officer replied, “Pan Goatee the famous U.S. government contract assassin and serial killer bought her a drink in an upscale Manhattan nightclub last year and then paid for a 5-day trip to Hawaii for her.”

“Wow, that beautiful, eh?” Putin smiled, “Invite her to the Kremlin to do a private psychic session for me.”

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Sunday January 15th
2017.

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Putin and The Polar Bear

November 15, 2016 at 5:30 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, News, Philosophy, Vampire novel) (, , , , )

Putin and The Polar Bear

Russian President Vladimir Putin had a polar bear teddy bear on his desk.

“Where did you get that, Comrade President?” His aide Yuri asked.

Putin smiled a rare smile for Putin, “A little girl in a town I visited last week gave it to me. She said to give it a hug whenever I feel stressed.”

“Nice,” Yuri nodded.

“And as President of Russia, I do feel stress,” Putin was in a reflective mood.

He looked at the globe of the world on his desk.

And looked at the map of Russia on the wall.

“I genuinely hope that we will be able to have good relations with the new Administration in Washington D.C.,” Putin touched his lips reflectively with his forefinger.

“I hope so too, Comrade President,” Yuri nodded.

Putin had a far away look in his eyes.

“Gold bullion for your thoughts, Mr. President,” said Yuri.

“What? Russian rubles are no longer good for you anymore, Yuri,” Putin laughed a rare laugh.

Yuri smiled, “What are you thinking about?”.

“About Shakespeare’s figure of MacBeth,” Putin answered philosophically, “about the 3 witches’ prophecy. Did MacBeth have to fulfill the prophecy or did he have free will? Could the witches have prophesied and then MacBeth decided not to do it? Not to kill Duncan? Did the fact that the witches prophesied mean he had to kill Duncan? Or was the prophecy just a warning of what might happen should Macbeth kill Duncan?”.

Yuri looked at his boss, “What brought this on?”.

“Oh, just something that I read that disturbed me lately,” Putin answered.

On another desk in his room, Putin’s Russian Bible was open to Ezekiel Chapters 38 and 39.

“I believe God gave us free will, Excellency,” his aide answered, “unlike what witches like those in MacBeth might tell us, there’s always the possibility of hope.”

Putin looked over at a statue of Our Lady of Fatima that a Catholic priest from Portugal had once given him.

“Yes, there is, isn’t there?” Putin thought, “Do you know where Hitler once served over in France in World War I, Yuri?”.

“No, Mr. President,” Yuri shook his head.

“At Vimy Ridge which was finally taken by the Canadians in April, 1917,” Putin said, “and it was the Vimy Ridge War Memorial to the Canadian dead that was the one Entente allied war memorial from World War I that Hitler ordered not destroyed after France fell in 1940. As if for one brief moment, Hitler felt a sense of humanity with people who had fought his nation as enemies. Sadly it was only one brief shining moment like King Arthur’s Camelot was in that song in the famous Broadway musical of the 1960s.”

“What is it you’re trying to say, Comrade President?” Yuri inquired.

Putin was silent.

He picked up the polar bear teddy bear that the little girl had given him.

“Maybe it’s not big actions that make all the difference,” Putin commented, “maybe it’s small acts of kindness, a little here, a little there, a little everywhere that truly move the world.”

Putin used the little toy teddy bear polar bear to give the globe of the world a spin.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Sunday November 13th
2016.

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