Michelangelo and Plaisir D’amour

July 19, 2019 at 10:57 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, News, Romance, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , )

Michelangelo and Plaisir D’amourĀ 

Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster was contentedly sitting in a very large wading pool of salt water on the living room floor of the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set’s colossal west end London mansion.

He had been brought to the mansion for the weekend so he could enjoy a little time away from his aquarium at Set Enterprises Laboratories.

On a nearby sofa sat Amadeus Emanon (who was the vampire Set’s personal concert pianist) and Amadeus’ girlfriend the New Orleans vampiress, songstress and stage actress Angelique Dumont.

Athelstan the valet and butler to Set was dropping some food into Michelangelo’s salt water wading pool.

“What do lobsters eat?” Angelique asked Athelstan.

“Well in Michelangelo’s case,” Athelstan answered, “everything but lobster.”

“A bit like Amadeus then,” Angelique smiled, “although in Amadeus’ case, he does eat lobster.”

Michelangelo gave Amadeus a nasty glare with his right lobster eye from the corner of the salt water wading pool.

When Michelangelo had finished eating, he happily went back to typing on his waterproof Toshiba laptop (a rare item that Dr. Cadbury Rocher had picked up for him in the city of Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada) with his lobster claws.

The lobster was busy communicating with the Polynesian beauty who was known as Plaisir D’amour.

Every so often (quite often in fact!), Michelangelo would make a huge splash that would douse Amadeus, Angelique and the nearby sofa.

“Where’s Renfield?” Angelique asked as she raised her umbrella above her head.

“He’s at Whitehall,” Amadeus answered, “attending a meeting of the government’s Cobra emergency committee on which he sits. I imagine he’s been getting into several heated arguments with Foreign Secretary and possible future Prime Minister Jeremy Hunt.”

“Would that be over the Iranian Islamic Revolutionary Guard’s seizure of the British oil tanker Stena Impero earlier today?” Angelique inquired.

“It would,” Amadeus answered, “Renfield never really approved of the British Royal Marines’ seizure of the Iranian oil tanker Grace-1 down at Gibraltar a couple of weeks ago. He wondered why Britain should try to enforce EU sanctions against exporting oil to Syria when Britain will shortly be leaving the EU. It just didn’t make sense to Renfield.”

“It doesn’t make much sense to me either,” Angelique remarked as she and Amadeus and the sofa were hit by another tidal wave from Michelangelo’s salt water wading pool.

“Renfield also found out that the Iranian government yesterday agreed to Trump’s demands for more intense inspections of Iranian nuclear facilities in exchange for economic sanctions being lifted,” Amadeus stated, “but when confronted by this way to break the impasse, the war hawks in the Trump Administration immediately slapped Iran with a bunch more demands like no uranium enhancement whatsoever (which would drastically affect Iran’s electricity system that uses nuclear powered plants to produce electricity) and Iran must get out of both Syria and Yemen.”

“Wow,” Angelique remarked as she was doused with yet another of Michelangelo’s Poseidon adventures, “Trump said he was just concerned about Iran developing nuclear weapons.”

“Well like everything else that comes out of Trump’s mouth,” Amadeus bit into a baloney sandwich, “it was a total lie.”

“What does Renfield think?” Angelique inquired.

“That Trump under orders from his Israeli dominatrix Benjamin Netanyahu,” Amadeus ate a non-kosher dill pickle, “wants nothing less than total war against Iran.”

“And Renfield feels that the United Kingdom is going to be dragged into this war against Iran?” Angelique queried.

“That is the case,” Amadeus started to eat some leftover haggis from the night before.

Renfield came crashing through the front door at that moment slamming the door behind him as he entered.

“I take it things are not going well?” Amadeus asked.

“No,” Renfield stood in the center of the living room where he was hit by a tidal wave from Michelangelo.

The MP whirled around and asked, “What is Michelangelo doing?”.

“He’s spent the day on his laptop communicating with the Polynesian beauty they call Plaisir D’amour,” Amadeus answered.

Renfield looked at the image of the woman that Michelangelo was video conferencing with:

“I wish I had spent the day doing the same,” Renfield remarked wistfully.

“Who left the faucets running?” The vampire Set asked as he walked through the door.

-A vampire novel chapterĀ 
written by Christopher
Friday July 19th
2019.

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