Fish and Chips With Holmes and Watson

May 17, 2019 at 10:28 pm (Detective story, Entertainment, Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, Mythology, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , )

It was a May evening in London at 221B Baker Street the residence of the world-famous consulting detective Sherlock Holmes.

The year was 1899.

“Well, Holmes,” Dr. Watson put down his newspaper, “what do you deduce that Mrs. Hudson has made us for dinner tonight?”.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you this morning, Watson,” Holmes lit his pipe, “Mrs. Hudson is going to a Church Auxiliary Tea and Bake Sale this evening so sadly for us, no fine dinner from Mrs. Hudson tonight.”

“Blast it, Holmes,” Watson grimaced, “I wish you had told me. I’d have gone for dinner at the club tonight.”

“What and leave me home alone, Watson?” Holmes smiled, “Leaving me to fend for myself?”.

“Damn right, I would, Holmes,” Watson nodded, “If I can’t enjoy Mrs. Hudson’s fine cooking, I can get a very fine beef steak at the club.”

“What say we go out for some good old English fish and chips, Watson?” Holmes started putting his rain coat on.

“All right,” Watson put his jacket and coat on, “seeing as how they’ve probably stopped serving dinner at the club an hour ago.”

Holmes and Watson exited their room, walked down the stairs and through Mrs. Hudson’s parlour out the front door.

“Where shall we go for Fish and Chips, Holmes?” Watson asked.

“I noticed just the other day that a new Fish and Chips place opened up a few blocks away, Watson,” Holmes pointed in the direction, “What say we try there?”.

“All right,” Watson agreed, “Lead on, MacDuff.”

The duo walked enjoying the evening air.

“Here’s the place,” Holmes pointed at the entrance with his walking stick.

“The Captain’s,” Watson looked at the sign above the door, “Quite an original name for a Fish and Chips place.”

“Sarcasm does not become you, Watson,” Holmes remarked.

“Neither does being hungry,” Watson opened the door, “let’s go in.”

Inside both Holmes and Watson ordered the 3 pieces of Fish with Chips plate.

The detective ordered a brandy and his physician friend ordered a gin for liquid refreshment.

“Interesting portrait painting on the main wall, there,” Holmes said to the waiter when he brought the drinks, “who is that supposed to be?”.

“That is a picture of the Captain,” the waiter replied.

“He looks like a bloody pirate if you ask me,” Watson gazed at the painting.

“He was, sir,” the waiter nodded, “he was a pirate captain.”

“Oh, really,” Watson harrumphed, “What was his name?”.

“That we do not know, sir,” the waiter answered, “The restaurant’s owner bought that painting in an antique shop in Plymouth. The painting dates back to the 18th Century the antique dealer said. But who the man in the portrait is, he had no idea. But the painting inspired the owner to open up a Fish and Chip shop and call it The Captain’s named after the figure in the painting.”

“Bloody mysterious if you ask me,” Watson took a sip of his gin.

“And yet my trade is solving mysteries, Watson,” Holmes lit his pipe again.

“So, who is the figure in the painting?” Watson asked Holmes.

“I’m afraid I’ve never really studied the history of 18th Century piracy in depth to hazard a guess,” Holmes blew smoke rings.

“What you mean there’s actually something that the great Sherlock Holmes does not know?” Watson laughed.

The waiter arrived with their Fish and Chips orders and both men raised knife and fork to tackle the huge succulent looking pieces of cod on their respective plates forgetting the question of the pirate in the painting.

“So, what made you decide on a Fish and Chips dinner tonight, Holmes?” Watson asked.

“A dream I had last night, actually,” Holmes took a sip of his brandy.

“But I didn’t think you put much stock in dreams, Holmes?” Watson had to smile.

“Normally I don’t,” Holmes admitted as he wiped his mouth with a napkin, “Still the Bard did write We are such stuff as dreams are made on. And it was a memorable dream I had to admit.”

“What was it?” Watson was curious.

“I dreamed I was aboard a boat and a large octopus… a Kraken actually of mythological folklore fame was drinking 120 barrels of rum,” Holmes sucked thoughtfully on his pipe.

“How did you know there were exactly 120 barrels?” Watson laughed, “You counted?”.

“Brilliant deduction, Watson,” Holmes shook his head in dismay, “Obviously I counted.”

“Holmes,” Watson put down his fork in exasperation, “You’re the only person I know who would spend time in his dream counting exactly how many barrels of rum a Kraken was drinking.”

The duo started getting quizzical looks from customers sitting at other tables.

“So, what significance is there to the number of rum barrels the Kraken was drinking?” Watson cut into another piece of cod, “What does the number 120 signify?”.

“God only knows, Watson,” Holmes poured vinegar on his chips, “The number of years perhaps.”

The detective shrugged.

“Let’s see,” Watson did arithmetic in his head, “120 years from now, that would be May 17th 2019.”

. . .

It was a Friday evening in London in May 2019 and Dashwood Forrest the owner of The Dashwood Forrest Art Gallery was removing an old oil painting he had just purchased from the crate it was in.

“Good heavens,” Forrest’s Irish manservant Mulligan the Irish zombie spilled gin and brandy all over himself when he saw it, “That figure in the painting looks exactly like Captain Jack Sparrow from Pirates of The Caribbean.”

. . .

In the May evening in 1899, Holmes lit his pipe again and looked contemplatively at the ceiling.

“You know it’s strange, Watson,” Holmes’ pipe smoke headed in the direction of the portrait of the Captain.

“What’s that, Holmes?” Watson sipped his after dinner coffee.

“That we never seem to call one another by our first names like normal acquaintances seem to do,” Holmes chewed on his pipe.

Now there was a mystery.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday May 17th
2019.

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Cardi B. and The Time Traveller: A Poem

February 7, 2019 at 11:56 pm (Culture, Detective story, Entertainment, Geopolitics and International Relations, Gothic, Gothic poem, Gothic romance, History, International Intrigue, Music, music videos, Mystery, Mythology, News, Poetry, Romance, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , )


Singer Cardi B. flees Lancaster Hall in England in 1888 leaving behind a giant sized shoe.

“So you really expect me to believe you’re a time traveller from the year 2019?” Consulting detective Sherlock Holmes asked somewhat skeptically.

“Whether you believe it or not, it is true,” replied Dracul Van Helsing who had recently seen Achilles slay his enemy in a manner most Hectorly.

“I have worked on stranger cases,” Holmes admitted.

He looked at Dracul wondering if he should have him committed.

“And what do you mean by a hip hop singer?” Holmes looked as though he’d been through the ringer.

“Do not worry about musical terms from the future,” said Dracul, “rather worry about Cardi B. whom Vampiress Lilith wants to goose her.”

“May I ask why?” Holmes looked up at the dark sky.

“It has to do with Solomon and the Queen of Sheba,” Dracul stated in the midst of an atmospheric upheava.

Holmes looked confused, the coachman looked bemused and the estate cat looked amused.

“It has to do with Cardi B.’s real name,” Dracul played with an open window pane.

“Which is,” Van Helsing went on, “Belcalls Almanzar. Watch out for that falling star…

Holmes quickly jumped out of the way.

And the star landed in some hay.

Much to a hungry horse’s dismay.

His dinner went up in a blaze of smoke.

All that’s left- a solitary artichoke.

The horse ate the artichoke as Dracul continued his story,

“Lilith’s dealings with Solomon- somewhat gory…”

“But what does this have to do with Cardi B.?” Holmes lit his pipe under a tree.

“Her real name,” a soft breeze came, “Belcalls refers to the Queen of Sheba and Almanzar means watchtower. Watch that flower..”

Holmes avoided stepping on the Lancaster Hall estate’s red rose as the cat pranced about on tippy toes.

“So Lilith thinks Cardi B. is the watchtower of the Queen of Sheba,” Dracul went on, “so vampiress wreaks vengeance on Solomon by killing this singing diva.”

A scream went through the air as the terror that flies by night lost her shoes while Sherlock looked in the garden for more clues.

Cardi ran off after the terror by night while Lilith’s shoe glittered in the lamplight.

The next day, Cardi rode a white horse into the countryside

where horse and rider gave each other quite the ride.

-A poem and vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Thursday February 7th
2019.

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Celebrating Ragnarok Apocalypse In Chicago

February 1, 2019 at 11:57 pm (Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, Gothic, Gothic romance, International Intrigue, Mystery, Mythology, News, Romance, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , , )


Semiramis the Queen of Babylon calls to Dracul Van Helsing for help from inside her hotel room at the Mysterious Goddess Hotel in Chicago.

She clutched a pair of scissors that Jack the Ripper (recently appointed head of New York’s Health Care, Hospital and Medical Clinic system by New York Gov. Andrew Cuomo) tried to kill her with after he had watched the 1954 Alfred Hitchcock film Dial M For Murder on the hotel’s Pay TV channel.


Jack the Ripper likewise found himself caught in the vortex of time and place affecting the polar vortex in Chicago and found himself back in London on a moonlit evening in 1888.

Where suddenly he found himself peering through the keyhole of Sherlock Holmes’ room:

Suddenly the London 1888 full moon appeared over Chicago where it was promptly swallowed by the ghost of a T-Rex who came out on the losing end of the three horns of a triceratops:

After the Canadian vampire hunter had finished offering tantric sex comfort and sexual healing to Semiramis, Athena the Greek goddess of wisdom invited Dracul Van Helsing to visit her in the hotel room next door:

Come partake of my wisdom once again, Van Helsing.

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Sherrielock Holmes’ 165th Birthday

January 6, 2019 at 11:57 pm (Espionage, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, International Espionage, International Intrigue, love, News, Romance, Spy Tales, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , )

Today is the Feast Day of the Epiphany.

And it was on the Feast Day of The Epiphany in 1854 that two remarkable individuals were born.

Twins.

A boy and a girl.

The boy would go on to achieve fame and fortune as the world’s greatest consulting detective- Sherlock Holmes of 221 B Baker Street.

The girl would remain in the shadows.

One because of her chosen profession- that of a dominatrix.

And although her clientele included members of the British Empire’s high and mighty, no one wished to publicly speak of her.

She also worked for the most secret levels of British Intelligence.

She had been recruited into British Intelligence on the recommendation of one Winston Churchill in 1914 when he served in the World War I British cabinet as First Lord of The Admiralty.

By this time of course Sherrielock Holmes had achieved immortality.

Quite literally.

For she had eaten a specially prepared omelette made with Lingzhi supernatural mushrooms that had been developed by her husband the noted scientist Dr. Louis Rocher (who was ironically enough the illegitimate son of her twin brother’s mortal arch Prof. James Moriarty and a single unmarried French woman named Isabelle Rocher) which gave her immortality.

Dr. Rocher decided to wait to prepare a similar omelette and achieve immortality for himself.

A decision he came to regret after his plane was shot down by the Red Baron on April 20th 1918 just the day before the Red Baron was shot down himself by Canadian pilot Roy Brown on April 21st.

His immortal Lingzhi supernatural mushroom omelette recipe went to the ground with him.

Sherrielock Holmes left British Intelligence in 1920 and became a school teacher throughout the 1920s.


Sherrielock Holmes found her dominatrix training came in handy teaching in a girls’ school in the 1920s.


Living life briefly as a blonde, she also found her dominatrix experience came in handy teaching in a boys’ school in the 1920s.

Today of course, Sherrielock turned 165.

Her brother Sherlock had been offered one of Dr. Louis Rocher’s immortal omelettes as well but turned him down describing it as “oriental mumbo-jumbo” and “hocus pocus nonsense”.

Sherlock subsequently died of a massive cardiac arrest on May 28th 1937 upon hearing the news on BBC Radio that Neville Chamberlain had replaced Stanley Baldwin as Prime Minister of Britain.

German Fuhrer Adolf Hitler’s glee was the great British consulting detective’s death agony.

So Sherlock was not present at Sherrielock’s 165th Birthday party being held in the main dining room at the Savoy Hotel in London tonight hosted by her great-grandson Dr. Cadbury Rocher who was the chief scientist at Set Enterprises the research and development firm owned by the London based billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set.

Dr. Cadbury Rocher was the man said to embody the best (and the worst) of Holmes and Moriarty blood.

His greatest testtube genetic creation was present- the shapeshifting hamster/human British MP Renfield R. Renfield widely touted to someday become the Prime Minister of Britain and the Sir Winston Churchill of the 21st Century.

Also present was Amadeus Emanon (Set’s personal concert pianist) who had recently started recording his own songs at a major London music and recording studio and those few music critics who had listened to his songs touted him as a future British music sensation to equal the likes of David Bowie and Freddie Mercury.

Not present was Pan Goatee who had run away from Set Enterprises laboratories to join an American electric music rock band back in 2013 and now worked as a contract assassin for America’s DARPA and a satyr serial killer of ugly women.

There were various genetically modified animals that Dr. Rocher had created as well- including Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster who was currently occupying a blow proof lobster tank in the dining room of the Savoy.

That new Rocher prototype lobster tank turned out not to be so blow proof when Sherrielock entered the Savoy dining room wearing her lovely evening dress.

Waiters and bus boys were still mopping up water and London private eyes Agathor Christie and Magog Rhys Petley (who were a defeated British Conservative MP and defeated British Labour MP respectively) hired to provide security for the birthday party were trying to prevent Gordon Ramsay, who had mistaken Michelangelo for an ordinary crustacean, from placing him in a pot of boiling water.

Intelligence agents from Russia, China and Venezuela were also at the event hoping to discover Dr. Cadbury Rocher’s plans for the redevelopment of the ancient Hebrew general Joshua’s trumpets capable of bringing down any wall (which would virtually ensure that Donald Trump would be pissing $5.6 billion in U.S. taxpayers’ money down the drain).

Renfield was already on his Huawei smart phone communicating with his latest crush newly elected Democratic Congresswoman Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez:

“Now more than ever I think $5.6 billion would be better spent towards implementing a national public health insurance program that most civilized nations in the western world already have” – Renfield

As for another of Dr. Cadbury Rocher’s creations, the genetically recreated winged horse Pegasus was now the pet and favourite animal of Queen Rania of Jordan.

She had received offers from both Saudi Crown Prince Mohammad bin Salman and Jared Kushner to sell him but she had turned both men down flat.

And as in another place, billionaire George Soros was drowning his sorrows in champagne over the possible imminent collapse of the Brussels led European Union, the ghost of Sir Winston Churchill was proposing a toast to Sherrielock Holmes on her 165th Birthday.

And the ghost of Orson Welles took an old black and white picture of Sherrielock Holmes with an old Polaroid Model 95 Land camera invented by Edwin Land in 1948:

Sherrielock Holmes on her 165th Birthday- Not looking a day over 25.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Sunday January 6th
2018
Feast of Epiphany

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Haiku About Irene Adler

September 22, 2018 at 5:28 pm (Crime, Culture, Detective story, Poetry) (, , , , , , , )

A great stage actress
stole Bohemian king’s heart
and then Sherlock Holmes’

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Haiku About Sherlock Holmes of 221B Baker Street

September 22, 2018 at 5:12 pm (Crime, Culture, Detective story, Poetry) (, , , , , )

Comfortable rooms
filled with smoke from a curved pipe
hides truly great mind

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Sherlock Holmes and Jack The Ripper: A Haiku

August 28, 2018 at 10:37 pm (Crime, Culture, Detective story, History, Literature, Mystery, Mystery/horror, Poetry) (, , , )

Sherlock Holmes and Jack The Ripper: A Haiku

Holmes had Jack in lab
electrocuted him because
The courts would acquit

When you’re as important in society as Jack was, the Old Bailey would never convict.

So Sherlock Holmes took matters in his own hand.

Years later, Nikola Tesla would re-enact Holmes’ test for his friend Mark Twain.
But without using a living subject like the great British detective did.

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The Hall of The Baskervilles: A Poem

July 28, 2018 at 9:44 pm (Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, Horror, International Intrigue, Mystery, Mystery/horror, Mythology, News, Poetry, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , )

The Hall of The Baskervilles: A Poem

The hall of the Baskervilles stands empty now
Only living creature seen is a neighbour’s stray cow
It’s been over a century since Sherlock Holmes cracked the case
of this spectral hound who lacked amazing grace
Sir Henry Baskerville has taken Mrs. Stapleton for his bride
as Holmes and Watson left the moor in a carriage ride
Sir Henry and his wife only had one son
An only child- Simon full of spark and fun

During the Great War, Simon Baskerville served as a spy
He arranged the fall of Zeppelins from the sky
So great and masterful a spy was he
pissing off the High Command of Germany
Kaiser Wilhelm II personally ordered his death
“This last Baskerville must soon be devoid of breath”
And so the order went out to German Intelligence Agent Count von Klamp
A man who dated a sexy Valkyrie vamp
He sent the vamp to England fair
This vampiress with Aryan blonde hair
She seduced Simon on a dark and stormy night
The kind that gives Bulwer-Lytton’s prose a fright
And Simon had from his body every ounce of his manly blood drained
While outside the thunder roared as storm clouds rained

Simon was knighted posthumously
by George V in full ceremony
Count von Klamp attended the funeral knighting in disguise
while the Valkyrie wore dark glasses over her eyes

Today Baskerville Hall stands deserted and desolate
Preservation efforts made quite the mess of it
On some nights locals say the demonic hound can still be seen
Devil’s hound instead of God’s Lamb in Devon’s pastures green

And in the empty Baskerville Hall
Dashwood Forrest walked examining the wall
He was looking for a portrait painting of Sir Simon
He had a buyer a millionaire Steak Kidney 🥧 pie man

He came to the place on the wall it was supposed to be
And there stood Allatallahbel in all her vampiress glory

Allatallahbel the Vampiress Priestess of Baal standing in front of an empty portrait picture frame in Baskerville Hall

-A poem and vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday July 28th
2018.

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Happy Birthday, Sherrielock Holmes

January 6, 2018 at 9:18 pm (Detective story, Entertainment, History, Literature, News, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , )

Happy Birthday, Sherrielock Holmes

The quite literally immortal dominatrix Sherrielock Holmes (who was Sherlock Holmes’ lesser known twin sister) was turning 164 today.

Many years ago, Sherrielock had eaten some Lingzhi Supernatural mushrooms and become immortal.

Sherrielock was being taken out to dinner by her great grandson Dr. Cadbury Rocher.

They arrived at the Avebury Arms Pub to sample their delicious 😋 steak and kidney pies.

Sherrielock was dressed in an elegant turquoise green evening dress.

“Tell me, Aunt Sherrielock, did you ever offer a plate of Lingzhi Supernatural mushrooms to great uncle Sherlock?” Cadbury was anxious to know.

“I did,” Sherrielock nodded, “but he refused. He longed to meet Irene Adler again.”

“So great uncle Sherlock did come to believe in an afterlife?” Cadbury inquired.

“He did,” Sherrielock sampled her steak and kidney pie, “Ummm, heaven.”

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday January 6th
2018.

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The Hound of The Baskervilles and The Temple Mount

November 13, 2017 at 7:23 pm (Detective story, Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, News, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , )

The Hound of The Baskervilles and The Temple Mount

60 years ago, the stuffed body of the original Hound of the Baskervilles had been stolen from the Sherlock Holmes Museum at 221B Baker Street, London.

Today Agathor Christie and Magog Rhys Petley Private Eyes were walking the streets of the city of Jerusalem.

The two men were not on a case but rather holidaying.

They had not been hired on a case since they had located the Vampiric Knights-Templar for Allatallahbel the Vampiress Priestess of Baal.

The two men decided to go walk around the area of the Temple Mount (known to Muslims as the Haram al-Sharif) even though it was not legal for non-Muslims to do so.

However both men, being former British Members of Parliament, were naturally ignorant of the law.

Fortunately on this Monday approaching mid-November, the Temple Mount was not very busy and no one noticed the two men brazenly walking about.

“Look there,” Magog pointed to Agathor.

“What is it?” Agathor stuffed some snuff up his nose and sneezed.

“It’s the stuffed (as in taxidermically embalmed) body of an extremely large black dog,” Magog was astounded.

“So it is,” Agathor put on his monocle and took a look at the stuffed dead beast, “I have to whole heartedly agree.”

“I’ve seen that body before,” said Magog.

“You have?” Asked an astounded Agathor who was starting to wonder if his private eye partner had some rather unusual sexual proclivities.

“Yes, last week I was browsing through a 60-year-old LIFE magazine in my doctor’s office,” Magog explained, “and I came across an article about how the stuffed body of the original Hound of The Baskervilles was stolen from the Sherlock Holmes Museum at 221B Baker Street in London 60 years ago this week. They had a photo of the stolen item. With my photographic memory and my brilliant powers of Sherlockian reasoning, I deduce the hound in that 60-year-old photo and the one lying dead and stuffed here are one and the same.”

“Your doctor 👨‍⚕️ keeps 60 year old magazines in the waiting room of his office?” Agathor’s monocle popped off his eye in astonishment.

“Of course he’s Scottish,” Magog nodded, “and extremely tight at saving his pennies. He doesn’t really have anything new in his office. One deputy Chancellor of the Exchequer fell down the toilet 🚽 using that office’s antiquated piece of plumbing and hasn’t been seen since.”

“Amazing,” Agathor’s monocle fogged up.

“I say we better get this Hound of the Baskervilles off the Temple Mount and back to Britain 🇬🇧 as soon as possible,” Magog picked up the head end of the dog.

Agathor was left to pick up the rear end of the dog.

They carried the hound’s body off the Temple Mount while Magog Rhys Petley sang that old Patti Page song, “How much is that doggie in the window…?”.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Monday November 13th
2017.

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