Halloween 2017: 500th Anniversary of Protestant Reformation

October 31, 2017 at 8:03 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, Horror, International Intrigue, News, Religion, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , )

Halloween 2017: 500th Anniversary of Protestant Reformation

South African witch doctor Dr. Sterling Makabo was walking the streets of Wittenberg Germany on the 500th Anniversary of the Protestant Reformation’s beginning.

Dr. Makabo had the power to revive corpses from the dead as zombies and with his sense of humour, he decided to raise Martin Luther from his grave and have him re-post his 95 Theses on the door of All Saints Church in Wittenberg.

Luther’s corpse did that and was applauded by Halloween trick or treaters who were impressed by the spectacle.

Meanwhile in Rome, Pope Francis (ever anxious to show the world what a splendid ecumenist he was) posted the 95 Theses of Martin Luther on the door of Saint Peter’s Basilica while the Baphomet (who had been summoned by the Vampiric Knights-Templar) applauded vigorously with his multiple arms and legs.

Later, a Vatican Cardinal went down and nailed a copy of Anton LaVey’s The Satanic Bible to the door of Saint Peter’s Basilica as well.

Meanwhile Allatallahbel the Vampiress Priestess of Baal attacked various trick or treaters around the city and sucked their blood and then gave them candies afterwards.

And Donald Trump spent his Halloween in the Oval Office insulting more people in his Twitter tweets.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday October 31st
2017.

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An Evening At The Mermaid Art Exhibit

January 21, 2017 at 1:35 pm (Espionage, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, International Espionage, International Intrigue, Mythology, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , )

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Sir Nigel Blake-Lenin the curator of the Dashwood Forrest Art Gallery announced to those gathered at the Mermaid Art Exhibit’s opening night, “regrettably the artist Miss Charmaine Olivia will not be able to be with us this evening…”

The crowd moaned and groaned their disappointment.

“Yes,” Sir Nigel Blake-Lenin sighed in sympathy, “Miss Olivia ate some rather bad tuna fish sandwiches earlier this evening that she had thought had come from the Exhibit caterers but they turned out to have been brought in by a mysterious third party…”

“So she’s the one who ate all my tuna fish sandwiches that I had brought with me tonight,” Renfield seethed to Amadeus.

“Then you might have been the one who came down with food poisoning,” Amadeus pointed out.

“I guess every cloud has a silver lining,” Renfield grinned.

A dark cloud appeared over the gallery and an American silver dollar fell from the heavens.

The Greek god Apollo played the song Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head on his lute.

A mermaid emerged from the canvas of one of the Charmaine Olivia paintings.

The mermaid carried an umbrella and went out into the night.

“Well, at least she won’t get wet,” Amadeus said to Renfield.

The curator motioned to Apollo to stop playing his lute in case more mermaids emerged from their canvases and left the gallery before any paintings could be sold.

“So, Sir Nigel,” Sherrielock addressed the gallery curator, “is the gallery’s mysterious owner Mr. Dashwood Forrest going to put in an appearance this evening?'”.

“I talked to him on the phone an hour ago and he said he would,” Sir Nigel answered.

The mysterious enigmatic individual who called himself Dashwood Forrest had opened the gallery a few months ago but had never visited the gallery nor attended any of the exhibit openings.

Sherrielock noticed a painting at the front of the gallery that wasn’t a Charmaine Olivia.

“That painting there,” Sherrielock pointed to it, “is that a painting of Oscar Wilde?”.

“It looks like him, doesn’t it?” Sir Nigel smiled, “but it’s actually a portrait of the gallery owner Mr. Dashwood Forrest.”

“Mr. Dashwood Forrest looks like Oscar Wilde?” Sherrielock was astonished.

“Yes, he always looks quite the dandy,” Sir Nigel admitted.

“What’s a dandy?’ Amadeus asked Renfield.

“That’s a person who looks like a fag,” Renfield explained with his usual political incorrectness.

At that moment a person who looked like a zombie from one of those old time zombie horror films entered the gallery.

He held the door open for a man who looked the spitting image of a young Oscar Wilde.

“Thank you, Mulligan,” the Wilde looking gallery owner entered the gallery, “Good evening ladies and gentlemen as well as those of you who are gender neutral or are still undecided. I am Dashwood Forrest but you may just call me Dash.”

A group of men and women excitedly gathered around the new gallery owner.

“Anybody tell you that you look like a zombie?” Renfield asked Mulligan.

“Yes,” the zombie nodded with a thick Irish accent, “that’s because I am a zombie.”

“Really?’ Renfield grabbed a caviar laced cracker off a tray passing by, “What did you do in your mortal life?”.

“Well, I was best known for making my famous stews and also for cheating at golf,” Mulligan answered.

“How did you die?” Renfield swiped a plate of mushroom flambe off a passing tray.

“I drowned in a giant vat of Guinness after falling in several times,” Mulligan replied.

“Who raised you from the dead?” Renfield drank a pint of Murphy’s.

“Well that would be South African Witch Doctor Sterling Makabo,” Mulligan helped himself to a glass of Jameson’s Whiskey and toasted the failed 1808 Prussian invasion of Ireland, “he was actually trying to raise my cemetery neighbour Darcy O’ Flaherty Finnegan Riley from the dead but O’ Flaherty Finnegan Riley was a little late getting back from his wake so I decided to rise instead.”

“How did you manage to get a job with Dashwood Forrest?” Renfield queried.

“I’m not quite sure,” Mulligan scratched his decomposing chin, “Excessive drinking seems to have killed my memory.”

“I don’t imagine being dead helps your mental powers that much either,” Renfield observed.

“That too,” Mulligan had to admit.

Meanwhile Dashwood Forrest hurriedly left the party and went upstairs to his gallery office where he hurriedly locked the door.

Sherrielock Holmes was getting names for a whole new clientele for her dominatrix business.

Dr. Cadbury Rocher was boring numerous people to tears by showing them his Facebook and Instagram photos of his genetically created winged horse Pegasus and the sparrow named Ambidextrous Haberdasher who was teaching him how to fly.

The Greek god Apollo meanwhile was standing in the middle of the pouring rain outside the gallery playing a song about walking in Memphis and meeting the ghost of Elvis on his lute while he was trying to hail a taxi cab to pursue the lovely mermaid that had left the gallery earlier that night carrying an umbrella.

Amadeus Emanon was busy eating a dozen plates of potato salad and three dozen plates of cheese and crackers.

Mulligan the Irish zombie fell head first into a bowl of cocktail punch and remained in that position until Renfield revived him by chanting mantras from the Reader’s Digest Condensed Version of Dr. Sterling Makabo’s Guide To Raising Zombies From The Dead.

Such was an evening at the Mermaid Art Exhibit.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday January 10th
2017.

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The Death and Return of Apollo

January 6, 2017 at 5:33 pm (Fantasy, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, Mythology, News, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , )

In the year 390 AD, the Temple of Apollo at Delphi was destroyed under the Emperor Theodosius the Great who made Nicene Christianity the official state Church of the Roman Empire.

“I’m so depressed,” the Greek god Apollo had wept to the Ancient Babylonian vampiress Lilith.

Lilith could see that Apollo had a broken heart so she gave him some poisoned Babylonian grapes that were capable of killing an Olympian immortal like Apollo.

Following the death of Apollo in 390 AD, the ancient Greco-Roman religion (itself in decline for several decades now since the Emperor Constantine’s victory at the Battle of the Milvian Bridge in 312 AD) rapidly died out so that there were very worshipers of the old Greco-Roman gods left by the time Theodosius himself died in 395 AD.

Zeus and the other Olympians went into the shadows and no more publicly acted in the domain of mortal men and women.

Apollo was buried on Mount Parnassus after his death but his tomb became lost to both god and man after a small quake shook Mount Parnassus.

Then in the year 2012 AD on the night of the summer solstice that year, Apollo’s tomb on Mount Parnassus was discovered by the French archaeologist vampire Dr. Pompidou De Gaulle (whose expeditions were sponsored by the Egyptian vampiress Isis) after sundown.

Apollo’s body was then flown to a medical lab in Berlin since German doctors in their pompous arrogance thought they could bring Apollo back from the dead.

They were mistaken and the medical team drowned their sorrows in gallons of sauerkraut and Bavarian beer.

Even famed South African witch doctor Sterling Makabo (famous for bringing people and animals back from the dead as zombies) could not raise Apollo.

Said Makabo, “Those poisonous ancient Babylonian grapes were quite effective in killing immortals dead… permanently.”

Dr. Sterling Makabo’s statement, even though it sounded like an ad for a TV commercial, turned out to be quite true.

The ancient Babylonian vampiress Lilith who was contacted on her smart phone (while shopping for high-heels and dresses in a leading Parisienne fashion house) said as far as she knew (and she had been alive for some 6000 years now even though she didn’t look a day over 30), there was no antidote to the poisonous ancient Babylonian grapes.

So in 2012, Apollo’s father Zeus grieved.

It looked like nothing could bring his son Apollo back from the dead (so only Hades alone would be able to enjoy the playing of Apollo upon his lyre).

. . .

Top 1000 National Enquirer Stories of 2016-

Top National Enquirer story #666 : Set Enterprises’ Resident Mad Scientist Dr. Cadbury Rocher Brings Mossad Agent The Controller of the Golem Back From The Dead After Ancient Babylonian Vampiress Lilith Had Poisoned Controller’s Scotch Whiskey With Polonium-210

. . .

Christmas Day 2016- The ancient Greek god Zeus paid a visit to Set Enterprises’ resident mad scientist Dr. Cadbury Rocher to see if he could develop an antidote to the ancient Babylonian poisonous grapes that had killed Apollo.

The ancient Babylonian vampiress Lilith (wearing a lovely red evening dress) accompanied Zeus and presented Dr. Rocher with a sample of the ancient poisoned Babylonian grapes that she had fed Apollo many centuries ago to permanently end his heartbreak.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Dr. Rocher promised.

. . .

January 5th 2017 (Eve of the Epiphany on the Catholic Church calendar)-

Dr. Cadbury Rocher put the possible antidote (which he had created in the form of red wine) into a golden chalice and handed it to the ancient Babylonian vampiress Lilith (who was now dressed in an even more resplendent red evening dress).

Lilith took the chalice and opened the Greek god Apollo’s lips and poured the red wine antidote (to the poisonous ancient Babylonian grapes) down his throat.

Apollo sputtered and choked and opened his eyes and said, “God, that’s good stuff.”

“He’s alive,” his father Zeus shouted with joy.

. . .

January 6th 2017- It was Sherlock Holmes’ 163rd birthday and Dr. Cadbury Rocher’s beautiful and incredibly sexy great-grandmother the immortal dominatrix Sherrielock Holmes (who was Sherlock Holmes’ lesser-known twin sister) was dressed in an equally resplendent tight-fitting red leather mini dress and awaiting a European political leader.

Greek Prime Minister Alexis Tsipras entered her quarters.

“Alexis,” she smiled at him and addressed him as if he were a naughty schoolboy and she his so-sexy and so strict school teacher, “I have a surprise for you. Well, two surprises actually.”

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday January 6th
2017.

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