Reblog of Orson Welles and The Unusual Production of MacBeth
A vampire novel chapter and blog post I wrote 4 years ago today.
Orson Welles and The Unusual Production of MacBeth
It was March 1945.
And talented director and actor of stage, radio and film the great Orson Welles was directing a short scene from William Shakespeare’s MacBeth for an upcoming charity event.
Welles (in front of the stage): All right. Enter the three witches.
(Thunder and lightning. Enter three witches)
First Witch (lowering “her” cowl to reveal the face of Adolf Hitler- a fact which startles Orson Welles):
When shall we three meet again?
In thunder, lightning or in rain?
Second Witch (lowering her “cowl” to reveal the face of Josef Stalin- a fact which also startles Orson Welles):
When the hurlyburly’s done,
When the battle’s lost and won.
Third Witch (lowers its cowl to reveal a face wearing a mask. It speaks in a very metallic sounding voice):
That will be ere the set of sun.
(On the wall at the…
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An Early May Evening In The Life of Agathor Christie
Tewkesbury In The Cotswolds’ sitting incumbent British Conservative MP Agathor Christie was in his large comfortable Tewkesbury home.
He was waiting by the door.
Waiting for his French maid Simone to come home.
When Simone walked through the door, she was surprised to see her employer standing there.
“What are you doing standing there with such a firm look on your face, Monsieur?” Simone looked at him, “I feel like I’ve done something something naughty.”
“You have done something naughty, Simone,” Agathor Christie looked as grave as a freshly dug cemetery plot, “Very, very naughty indeed.”
“Are you going to give me a spanking, Monsieur?” Simone placed her hands protectively on her short tight skirted buttocks.
“Not tonight, Simone,” Mr. Christie continued to look as stern as the back part of a ship.
Simone managed to breathe a sigh of relief and yet intense disappointment at the same time.
“What was it that I did, Monsieur?” She asked while batting her eyelashes at him.
“I got a visit from the Acting Deputy Chief Constable of Gloucestershire County this morning,” Agathor Christie poured himself a glass of brandy, “apparently you assaulted one of my opponent rival candidates in the Nottingham Arms Pub yesterday. While I admire your attempt at being naughty in the Nottingham Arms and further hitting one of my opponents, unfortunately it spells bad publicity for me.”
“I’m sorry, Monsieur,” Simone curtsied, “I did not know he was your opponent. I just assaulted him because he had insulted the French people.”
“I’d never heard of the bloke either until I got this visit from the Acting Deputy Chief Constable,” Agathor finished his brandy and then poured himself another, “I’d never even heard of his bloody party either. Something with a multi-syllable sounding name. It sounded like something straight out of Monty Python.”
Agathor Christie was, of course, referring to Renfield R. Renfield of the British Transhumanist Techno-Progressive Anti-Bio Conservative Party.
“May I have a brandy too, Monsieur?” Simone looked at him with an Oliver Twist approaching Mr. Bumble-like expression.
“Well, we’ll discuss your drinking on the job on another occasion, Mademoiselle Simone,” Agathor Christie said firmly.
Once again putting her hands protectively on her short tight skirted buttocks and yet smiling broadly at the same time, Simone said, “Very good, Monsieur.”
“Now, you run off to bed while I make myself a cold roast beef sandwich in the kitchen,” Agathor Christie directed.
As Christie made himself a cold roast beef sandwich, he heard a lot of banging around and noise coming from the living room.
After he had eaten his sandwich and turned off the kitchen light, he walked into the living room.
Where he noticed Simone had made quite the mess going up the stairs.
That woman would really need a good talking to.
Perhaps more.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday May 9th
2017.
Renfield’s Analysis of The French Presidential Election
Renfield R. Renfield was staying in the town of Tewkesbury where he was running as the British Transhumanist Techno-Progressive Anti-Bio Conservative Party candidate in the constituency of Tewkesbury In The Cotswolds.
His friend Amadeus Emanon was up from London visiting him to see how the campaign was going.
“It’s an exciting dynamic campaign all around,” said Renfield as he sat next to the pub dog in the Nottingham Arms Pub in Tewkesbury. The dog yawned and fell asleep next to Renfield.
“What do you think of yesterday’s French Presidential election results?” Amadeus asked referring to centrist candidate Emmanuel Macron’s overwhelming victory in the Sunday May 7th 2017 French Presidential election.
“Well,” said Renfield while eating his tuna fish and scallop omelette, “it appears that the French people have elected a brown nosed butt kisser for the New World Order to be their new President.”
“I take it you don’t approve of the result,” Amadeus remarked with his usual sense of classic understatement.
“No,” Renfield broke wind sending the pub dog fleeing out the pub door, “it would have been much better if the French Aquarian Age Bonapartist Party candidate the Kraken Napoleon VI had come in first instead of 12th and last in last month’s !st Presidential round of voting. And then won the Presidential election yesterday. But the French people were too stupid to do that. A pity really. The Kraken Napoleon VI could have declared himself Emperor of France and his wife the ex-Gorgon Medusa would have become Empress. With a 3rd French Empire and Imperial Court, we could have gotten rid of the inherent stupidity of French democracy once and for all.”
“French democracy is inherently stupid?” Amadeus asked as he ate his escargots.
“Yes,” Renfield nodded as he dug into his British steak and kidney pie, “you see there’s one inherent major underlying problem with French democracy.”
“And what’s the one inherent major underlying problem with French democracy?” Amadeus asked as he bit into his camembert loaded croissant.
“The one inherent major underlying problem with French democracy,” Renfield explained, “is that it’s French people who are involved in the voting and decision making process. No wonder you have such disastrous results and major screw-ups.”
At that moment, a woman wearing a French maid outfit walked through the door.
Renfield immediately rushed up to her and said, “I love it when women wear French maid outfits.”
“That’s good, monsieur,” she replied in a sexy French accent, “because I am French and I do happen to be a maid.”
“Wonderful,” Renfield used every ounce of self-control he had to prevent his tongue from hanging out and panting, “I love the French people.”
“You should have just heard what he was saying about the French people a moment ago,” Amadeus quipped as he ate a raspberry parfait.
Renfield’s face immediately turned Bolshevik red.
“And what was that, Monsieur?” The French maid turned towards Amadeus.
Amadeus repeated Renfield’s statement verbatim and with terminological exactitude.
The kick the French maid delivered Renfield with one of her spiked stiletto high-heeled shoes sent Renfield flying into the liquor cabinet behind the bar.
It was an unforgettable start to his own personal election campaign.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Monday May 8th 2017.
Simone the French Maid: Not impressed with Renfield R. Renfield’s analysis of what is the major underlying problem with French democracy.
Egyptian Family Feud- 2017 Style
Renfield R. Renfield the chief of Security and Intelligence Gathering for Set Enterprises was attending a staff meeting on the Set Estate (the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire’s colossal West London mansion) with the Vampire Set himself, Set’s personal concert pianist Amadeus Emanon and Athelstan the personal butler and valet to the aforementioned vampire.
Renfield called the meeting to order.
“So,” Renfield belched after pounding the gavel, “Amadeus, I understand you were in charge of analyzing Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster’s revelations while I was away plotting the overthrow of the Nicolas Maduro government in Venezuela.”
“That’s correct,” Amadeus Emanon bit into a grilled cheese sandwich.
“Did Michelangelo reveal anything earth shattering?” Renfield asked as he drank from a bottle of Raven Conspiracy Deep Dark Red Wine.
“Well,” Amadeus munched on a Greek salad made with Goddess Athena Brand Feta Cheese, “apparently Pope Francis likes milk and cookies while the late former British Prime Minister Winston Churchill liked brandy.” (https://draculvanhelsing.wordpress.com/2017/04/19/michelangelo-foresees-pope-francis-at-regensburg/ )
“So, tell me something I don’t know,” Renfield pushed away a copy of an organic chemistry textbook in front of him.
“Mr. Renfield, sir,” Athelstan coughed, “I believe Mr. Emanon also listened in to the wiretaps you have on Master Set’s brother Osiris’ phone in Rome.”
“Really?” Renfield noticed that 5 dominatrixes were now following him on his Twitter account, “And did you discover anything earth shattering there, Amadeus?”.
The billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set stopped licking his toe nails with his long serpent like forked tongue and listened to what Amadeus had to say.
“Well apparently Pope Francis has invited Osiris to accompany him when he visits Egypt this coming April 28th to 29th,” Amadeus ate a chocolate covered pyramid made out of peanuts.
“What?” Set spit an extra large toe nail out of his mouth in anger, “My brother Osiris was invited to Egypt to attend the inter-faith peace conference at Cairo’s Al-Azhar University with Pope Francis and I wasn’t.”
“That is correct,” Amadeus unwrapped a green coloured chocolate statue of Osiris and started eating it.
“Renfield,” Set seethed, “I want you to go to Egypt and spy on Osiris and Pope Francis and see what they’re up to.”
“But, boss,” Renfield applied moisturizing cream to his moustache, “this week I start campaigning in the constituency of Tewkesbury In The Cotswolds as the British Transhumanist Techno-Progressive Anti-Bioconservative Party Candidate.”
“Well, if you fail to go to Egypt to spy on Pope Francis and Osiris on my behalf,” Set started eating from the pot of crocodile stew in front of him, “you can kiss your 500 million British pounds sterling a year salary good-bye since you’ll be out of a job with me plus you can move out of my mansion as you’re no longer an employee here.”
Within seconds, Renfield was on the phone booking a flight from London to Cairo.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
The Feast Day of Saint Mark
(1st Bishop of Alexandria in Egypt)
April 25th 2017.
The Cat Who Ate Wolves For Breakfast (Plus Lunch and Supper)
The Russian Spetsnaz special forces who had parachuted into Kiev last Thursday under the command of the ancient Babylonian vampiress Lilith were werewolves.
They were a special type of werewolf.
Each soldier was a bodark werewolf.
A bodark is a person who wants to become a werewolf in Russia (as opposed to a a wawkalak who was just turned into a werewolf through the evil actions of the Devil).
To become a bodark, a person would run into a forest and stab a copper knife into a tree (while such an action might be pleasing to manufacturers of copper knives as well as those with huge investments in the copper industry, the undertaking doesn’t go over so well with Greenpeace and tree huggers everywhere).
While still holding on to the knife in the innocently stabbed tree, the would-be bodark is required to repeat this chant:
“On the sea, on the ocean, on the island, on Bujan,
On the empty pasture gleams the moon, on an ashstock lying
In a green wood, in a gloomy vale.
Toward the stock wandereth a shaggy wolf.
Horned cattle seeking for his sharp white fangs;
But the wolf enters not the forest,
But the wolf dives not into the shadowy vale,
Moon, moon, gold-horned moon,
Cheek the flight of bullets, blunt the hunters’ knives,
Break the shepherds’ cudgels,
Cast wild fear upon all cattle,
On men, on all creeping things,
That they may not catch the grey wolf,
That they may not rend his warm skin
My word is binding, more binding than sleep,
More binding than the promise of a hero!”
Once the tree has been stabbed and the incantation chanted (with Taylor Swift singing “Boys only want love if it’s torture” in the background), the person runs off into a forest and changes into a werewolf as he does so.
Once these Russian Spetsnaz special forces soldiers had become full-fledged grey wolf bodark werewolves, Vladimir Putin put these men under the command of the ancient Babylonian vampiress Lilith in a secret treaty he signed with her shortly after his 2014 annexation of Crimea.
Lilith’s Bodark Grey Wolf Squadron did not turn into werewolves during a full moon.
Instead they turned into werewolves after listening to an old Gramophone recording of Josef Stalin singing the Soviet National Anthem in concert with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir (under a never revealed protocol of the Tehran Conference that was held from November 28th to December 1st 1943, the Mormon Tabernacle Choir were secretly flown to Moscow on December 26th 1943 (thereby missing out on Utah Boxing Day sales) to make the recording in musical choral accompaniment with Josef Stalin.
As Lilith played the recording turning the Russian Spetsnaz special forces commandos into grey wolf bodark werewolves, another grey wolf was walking the streets of Kiev.
The grey wolf was none other than the ancient Germanic god Wotan’s mortal son Adolf Hitler.
He had been granted permission to leave the Underworld by Hades and Persephone after Thor paid a visit on Odin/Wotan’s behalf requesting that they do so.
The grey wolf formerly known as Adolf stopped in its tracks when it heard the voice of Josef Stalin singing the Soviet National Anthem.
The grey wolf formerly known as Adolf visualized the Hungarian actor Bela Lugosi as Count Dracula saying, “Listen to him, the constipated dictator of the night. What a racket he makes.”
When the Gramophone finished playing and the commandos became grey wolf bodark werewolves, they were immediately attacked and eaten by a giant black cat.
The name of the giant black cat was Amorous Laetitia (whose name had inspired the title of a recent papal document although the first name was spelled differently in the Apostolic Exhortation).
Amorous Laetitia was the name of the personal pet cat and familiar of Hecate the Greek goddess of witchcraft.
Hecate had recently been beheaded by Pan Goatee’s astrally projected laser machete while she was in her crone form.
The head had been taken to a New York City cryogenics lab but the lab had been broken into by Loki and Fenrir and Fenrir had eaten the head.
Since then, Amorous Laetitia had torn apart every wolf she had come across in hopes she’d find her mistress’ head.
When she didn’t find it, she just ate the rest of the disemboweled wolf,
After seeing the black cat Amorous Laetitia eat the Spetsnaz bodarks, the grey wolf formerly known as Adolf ran down an alley and entered a building for safety.
The building turned out to be Brodsky Synagogue which was Kiev’s largest.
The grey wolf formerly known as Adolf could not help but think that the gods of the universe were playing some sort of cosmic joke on him.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Thursday April 20th
2017.
Much Ado About The Orient Express
As Pan Goatee was about to board the train, he noticed a fat ugly looking blimp of a woman getting off in front of him.
She resembled a fat cow having a bad bovine face day.
Pan Goatee promptly took out his laser machete and cut her head off.
As he kicked the head off into the gutter and boarded the train, he thought about a movie he had watched a few nights earlier- Murder On The Orient Express set in the early 1930s.
Why Pan Goatee wondered, would anyone want to commit a murder on the Orient Express in those days?
They had no ugly women or very little at any rate back in the 1930s.
Not like this horrendous second decade of the 21st Century where ugly women were everywhere- at least in the Western world- trains, planes and automobiles.
Meanwhile in Istanbul, Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan was celebrating his referendum win yesterday which gave greater powers to his Presidency paving the way to his becoming the new Sultan of a revived Ottoman Empire.
Erdogan was so happy that he thought the original Orient Express railway route between Paris and Istanbul should be revived again.
Meanwhile in London, dominatrix Sherrielock Holmes was taking a British Conservative MP Agathor Christie a great nephew of Agatha Christie (author of Murder On The Orient Express) grocery shopping with her.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Monday April 17th
2017.
Just Another Maundy Thursday?
Amadeus Emanon was in the Set Enterprises lab with Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster.
Amadeus was checking the computer that kept track of all Michelangelo’s psychic predictions for the past 30 days just in case the manual scribe who wrote down all of Michelangelo’s psychic predictions as they happen just happen to miss one.
The manual scribe that wrote down Michelangelo’s predictions was the cyborg robotic operated missing right hand of the Venus de Milo. The missing right arm was discovered by the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set’s personal archaeologist Dr. Edgar Lovecraft Ashbury on November 28th 1960 at a remote location on the island of Greenland which is quite the distance from the Greek island of Milos where the original famous armless statue of the Greek goddess Aphrodite (now in the Louvre) was first discovered back on April 8th 1820. Dr. Cadbury Rocher (in violation of the laws regarding internationally important antiquities) drilled a hole inside the marble arm and inserted an electronic wire that operated on a wi-fi system and caused the arm to move and write on a piece of paper whenever Michelangelo had a psychic revelation out of the blue when no one was present.
Usually this was Renfield’s job to take down what the missing right arm of the Venus de Milo might have missed but Renfield R. Renfield was currently in Venezuela in the planning stages of a coup to overthrow the government of Venezuelan President Nicolas Maduro.
Amadeus was checking a prediction that Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster had made back on April 1st of this year.
The prediction said, “World War III would break out on Good Friday 2017.”
Good Friday 2017?
That was tomorrow.
Amadeus looked at the calendar.
Amadeus wondered.
Was this prediction genuine or accurate?
Or was it an April Fool’s joke?
In the background, the song Only Time sung by the Irish singer Enya played on the radio.
. . .
Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau was sampling the best of British Columbia grass (as opposed to the California grass that the Beatles had once sang about) and checking his email as he smoked it.
He noticed he got an email from Gali-Gula the ET gray from the planet Nibiru (whose ET gray body was inhabited by the ghost of the ancient Roman Emperor Caligula).
The email read,
“Hello Justy old boy,
How’s it going? You’ll be delighted to hear that I’m one of 12 individuals selected to get his feet washed by Pope Francis at tonight’s Maundy Thursday papal washing of the feet ceremony.
I wound up in a Rome jail because I parked my spaceship in a No Parking zone outside the Colosseum and I tried to bribe the corrupt City of Rome policeman out of a ticket with Italian lira forgetting that the current currency of Italy is now the Euro.
Anyways look for me getting my feet washed by the Pope on the news tonight. I’ll be the one who’s rather short, gray in colour and not wearing any clothes.
Affectionately yours,
Your far out Extraterrestrial friend,
Gali-Gula.
. . .
The NATO General Wolfgang Vulkan (who was the Norse god Odin (aka the old German god Wotan) in disguise) stood in the middle of Maidan Square in Kiev.
He noticed Russian Spetsnaz special forces dropping from the skies over Kiev.
What were they doing?
He noticed that the ancient Babylonian vampiress Lilith standing in a white evening dress in the middle of the square appeared to be leading them.
Thor stood there with his hammer.
“Why is Lilith leading these Spetsnaz?” He asked Wotan.
“I’m not sure,” Wotan shook his head sadly, “if my mortal son was here, he could ask her. My mortal son was once allies and friends with her.”
“You have a mortal son?” Thor was shocked.
“I must confess that I once acted like the Greek god Zeus and seduced a mortal woman,” Wotan shook his head in shame, “it was the late summer of 1888. My mortal son was born 9 months later in April 1889.”
“Why didn’t you tell anyone of this?” Thor inquired.
“If he had conquered the world like he said he was going to do, I would have, I’d have been a proud papa,” Wotan’s one-eye wept tears, “but he didn’t conquer the world. He never made it to Valhalla on his death. The Valkyries could not enter Berlin on the day he died April 30th 1945 because they came under attack by Soviet forces when they tried.”
“So where is he?” Thor asked.
“Some wise guy put a gold coin in my son’s mouth when he died and he ended up in the Greek underworld of Hades after Charon rowed him across the River Styx,” Wotan answered, “perhaps you could go to Hades and Persephone and ask that my son’s ghost be allowed to come here to speak to Lilith.”
Thor looked in the direction of Lilith and noticed the wolf Fenrir standing next to her.
“I’ll go,” said Thor, “what is your mortal son’s name?”.
Wotan replied, “Adolf Hitler.”
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Thursday April 13th
2017.
An Adolf Hitler looking Germanic god Wotan in the 1889 painting The Wild Hunt by Franz von Stuck
Cthulhu On The South China Sea
“Mr. President,” Trump’s aide was forced to interrupt him as he was writing yet another Twitter tweet, “ships are being attacked in the South China Sea.”
“Whose ships?” Trump looked up, “our ships? Who’s doing the attacking? The Chinese?”.
“All types of countries’ ships are being attacked in the South China Sea including China’s,” the aide replied, “and the attack is being carried out by a strange sea creature who stands hundreds of meters tall, has an octopus head for a head, the wings of a dragon on its back and has giant humanoid arms and legs with its hands and feet webbed.”
“Sounds like the preview trailer I saw for the latest Pirates of the Caribbean film with Johnny Depp as Captain Jack Sparrow,” Trump reflected.
“Nevertheless it’s real, Mr. President,” the aide said grimly, “The NSA believe that it’s the creature Cthulhu originally believed to have been a fictional character first mentioned in the works of an early 20th Century horror story writer called H.P. Lovecraft.”
Trump picked up the phone and dialed a number, “Hello, Ivanka? Get thee to a library and read up everything you can find about a fictional monster called Cthulhu mentioned in the works of a horror writer called H.P. Lovecraft.”
. . .
The Royal Australian Navy ship The H.M.S. Pirate Don Durk of Dowdee was the only one that survived the attack by the creature Cthulhu of all the ships attacked in the South China Sea that fateful day of April 11th 2017.
First Mate Gil Mebson asked Captain Haul Pogan how their ship The Dowdee managed to survive.
“Well when we left Mumbai,” Captain Pogan took off his alligator boot to scratch his foot, “that psychic I had gone to see in Mumbai Tantric Tanya advised me to cover the ship in garlic. When I asked why, she said, I’d know the reason when we sailed back to Australia. This must be the reason.”
“So this Cthulhu creature is allergic to garlic like vampires and certain demons are,” Gil Mebson said as he ate his butter chicken.
“Apparently,” Captain Pogan opened a can of beer, “and it’s a good thing too. Otherwise I might never have heard the song Waltzing Matilda sung ever again.”
“That ship there doesn’t seem to have been attacked either,” Gil Mebson pointed to a ship that suddenly appeared out of nowhere.
“It appears to be a North Korean ship judging from the flag,” Captain Pogan peered through his binoculars, “and it’s got a huge television screen atop the mass broadcasting a speech from North Korean dictator Kim Jong-un.”
“I wonder what he’s saying,” Gil Mebson drank some rum.
“Well, if my Korean serves me correctly,” Captain Pogan replied, “Korean which I learned from making love with beautiful female members of the Korean Dragon Sisterhood Warrioress Society back in my days in Seoul, Kim Jong-un is reciting passages from the Necronomicon in Korean. The Necronomicon was originally written in Arabic by Abdul Alhadrez in Damascus in 730 AD. I myself read the Latin edition of The Necronomicon as a young Jesuit seminarian until I decided I couldn’t accept celibacy after attending a Sean Connery James Bond Film Festival held in Melbourne. I believe the passages Kim Jong-un is reciting are those passages that call the Cthulhu to rise from his home at the bottom of the sea.”
. . .
Peter Whitstable the man they called the Fox Mulder of Interpol was surprised to receive a phone call from South Korean vampire huntress Hyung Grace Kwan.
He hadn’t talked to Hyung ever since she broke up with his friend the Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing.
Hyung had caught Dracul in bed in a menage a trois with the Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec and the Egyptian vampiress Isis back on December 21st 2012 the day the world was supposed to end.
“Hyung, what’s up?” Whitstable asked.
“It’s Kim Jong-un,” Hyung replied, “last Christmas, he managed to get his hands on an ancient Korean copy of the book The Necronomicon. He’s now using that book to raise deadly occultic supernatural creatures from their resting places in the Underworld and at the bottom of the sea.”
“Wow,” said Whitstable, “too bad western intelligence hadn’t found about this earlier.”
Whitstable had on his desk a detailed report about today’s Cthulhu attacks in the South China Sea.
“Kim Jong-nam his half-brother found out about it and was going to reveal all after a gambling trip to Macau,” Hyung said, “but he got that fatal VX nerve agent towel in the face at Kuala Lumpur International Airport.”
“And now the young Stalinist brat Kim Jong-un has raised Cthulhu to attack shipping in the South China Sea by broadcasting Necronomicon pasages via satellite transmission to large screen TVs on North Korean ships,” Whitstable seethed.
“Who knows what other monsters he’s now going to raise?” Hyung looked over at her Samsung large screen TV.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday April 11th
2017.
Nero and Assad
The man drinking in the Rome taverna always told all who cared to listen that he once worked in the Vatican Antiquities Museum.
“I didn’t used to drink in those days,” he said to the disbelief of all, “until the night when I saw a ghostly violin… a violin that was only spectral in appearance… not a material violin… but an astrally projected violin up and leave the museum. Then I was let go for seeing it leave.”
“When was that?” asked the occasional bored taverna patron who pressed for more information.
“July 17th 2000,” the man replied.
. . .
Syrian President Bashar al-Assad (who had been in office since July 17th 2000) was talking to the spiritist medium Dulcinea Lucia who had flown in from London for the reading.
The gypsy Dulcinea Lucia (who was the goddaughter of Persephone the Greek goddess of the underworld) had special access to the spirits of Hades.
And Bashar al-Assad was anxious to talk to the spirit of the late Syrian Greek king Antiochus IV of the Seleucid dynasty (the man known to the world as Antiochus Epiphanes).
. . .
The Mossad agent they called the Controller of the Golem was in his office reading a document called the Otzar Midrashim that told the story of a Talmudic sage who received an angelic message regarding the coming of the Messiah.
He read,
“This will be for you a sign: when you see that the Nero of the East has fallen in Damascus, the kingdom of the east will fall, and then the salvation of Israel will grow, and the Messiah of the House of David will arrive and [the Jews] will go up to Jerusalem.” (Otzar Midrashim)
The Controller of the Golem wondered, is it possible that the current secularist tyrant Bashar al-Assad who rules Syria, was he the Nero of the East referred to in the Otzar Midrashim prophecy?
He looked up and saw the Egyptian vampiress Isis standing in front of him.
“Oh ye of little faith,” Isis spoke to him rebukingly, “do you not know that it is my husband Osiris who is your Messiah? Reach out to us for help. For you know that it is your old enemy Lilith who is trying to destroy you, the vampiress who poisoned your drink with Polonium-210 in London, the vampiress who has always worked behind the scenes for your people’s destruction. Only I and Osiris have the power to stop her. Even now, Lilith is in Damascus seeking your nation’s destruction. She is currently speaking with both Assad and the spirit of the Syrian Greek king Antiochus IV Epiphanes who sought your destruction centuries ago.”
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Monday April 10th
2017.
Dracul Van Helsing 
Donald Trump, Trump’s History Teacher and Bashar Assad
April 7, 2017 at 4:52 pm (Commentary, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, International Espionage, International Intrigue, News, Vampire novel) (CSIS agent Monica Dhaliwal, Donald Trump, Dracul Van Helsing, Monica Dhaliwal, Rex Tillerson, Syrian President Bashar Assad, Vampire novel, Vladimir Putin)
Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing was having lunch with the lovely attractive and highly intelligent CSIS agent Monica Dhaliwal at a pub in London.
Unbeknownst to the duo, the pub had been the scene of an attempted murder a few days earlier where the widow of a recently deceased City of London investor Donald Mahatma Ahmad Campbell Singh Khan had attempted to murder Set Enterprises’ resident mad scientist Dr. Cadbury Rocher after the widow had received a rather curtly put death notification via text message sent by one Renfield R. Renfield.
As Monica Dhaliwal adjusted her smartly stylish gray skirt, she asked the vampire hunter (who served as a consultant to Britain’s MI-6 Branch- The Diablos Nocturna Division) how he thought World War 3 would begin, Van Helsing replied, “Well roughly 3000 years ago, a fight between two men over a beautiful woman led to a major war- the Trojan War. Today, given the times we are living in, a Twitter tweet will probably cause the outbreak of World War 3.”
And speaking of Twitter tweets, Donald Trump was, at that moment, trying to figure out how to spell the word “Complicity” before sending out a Twitter tweet.
U.S. Secretary of State Rex Tillerson entered the room wearing a t-shirt with a picture of a T-Rex on it and the words T-REX emblazoned in red beneath the carnivorous dinosaur, “Mr. President, Vladimir Putin is quite pissed off by our missile strikes on Bashar al-Assad’s forces.”
“He was probably drinking too much vodka the night before,” Trump mused, “The same thing happens to me when I drink too much Coca-Cola. Or is it Pepsi that I drink? I can’t remember. I’ll have to remember to ask Ivanka.”
“Of course, our missile response was the only response possible to the use of chemical weapons against Idlib earlier this week,” Tillerson pointed out.
“Indeed it was,” Trump took out a comb and started combing his hair, “Indeed it was.”
“Not to forget,” a Trump aide pointed out, “The Syrian President made fun of your hair in one of his Twitter tweets on that same day.”
“That’s right,” Trump angrily threw his comb across the room knocking the book The Guns of August by Barbara W. Tuchman off the book shelf, “Nobody insults my hair and gets away with it. Nobody.”
“I heard, Mr. President, that you got a text message last night from your old high school History teacher who now lives in California,” said T-Rex Rex Tillerson.
“That’s right I did,” Trump smiled, “he told me that yesterday April 6th 2017 was the 100th Anniversary of America’s entry into World War I which coincidentally enough I discovered had occurred 100 years earlier on April 6th 1917.’
“I’m surprised your High School History teacher is still alive,” the aide looked shocked.
“So was I,” said Trump, “so I sent a CIA agent to investigate. That should be him now.”
CIA Agent Mordred Zimmerman entered the room.
“Well, Zimmerman, what have you got to report?” Trump gazed at the agent.
“Your high school History teacher is still apparently alive and well and currently living in San Francisco, Mr. President,” Zimmerman took out his note book and read.
“I wonder how that is possible that he’s still alive,” Trump scratched his head, “He was already in his early 60s when he taught me in High School.”
“Well, I regret to report, Mr. President, that your old High School History teacher is now a vampire,” Zimmerman pulled out a garlic sausage sandwich and started eating it.
“How is that possible?” Trump’s eyes darted around his office for signs of a Cross or Crucifix.
“He was apparently turned into a vampire by the Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec,” Zimmerman answered.
“See, this is another reason why we shouldn’t let Mexicans into this country,” Trump waved a finger at Rex Tillerson.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday April 7th
2017.
A desperately in need of Exlax looking Russian leader Vladimir Putin issues a stern warning to Donald Trump over the U.S. missile strikes against the forces of Syrian President Bashar al-Assad.
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