Carson Cody Albion and The Zombies of 1950s Havana
Carson Cody Albion and The Zombies of 1950s Havana
The year was 1956.
Fidel Castro and Ernesto Che Guevara were busy working on their plans to topple the Cuban government of President Fulgencio Batista.
Britain, France and Israel would attack Egypt over the Suez Canal.
And John George Diefenbaker would win the leadership of the Canadian Federal Progressive Conservative Party.
The last good leader the Federal Progressive Conservatives would ever have.
And the last good Prime Minister Canada would ever have.
So naturally he was a threat to the Canadian establishment and elites as well as the U.S. State Department.
The State Department got global bankers and investors to sabotage the value of the Canadian dollar during the 1963 Canadian election campaign so Diefenbaker would be blamed for it and lose the election.
Which is what happened.
Canadian Federal Liberal Party leader Lester Bowles (should really have been spelled Bowels) Pearson became Prime Minister of Canada in 1963 and eventually paved the way for Marxist-Leninist Cultural Marxist Pierre Elliot Trudeau (should really be spelled Turdeau) to become Prime Minister in 1968 and to set forth plans for the destruction of Canada as a great nation.
The destruction became complete when Progressive Conservative Party leader Brian Mulroney (should really be spelled Bulroney) was elected Prime Minister of Canada in 1984.
Bulroney was so obnoxious, he drove the Federal Progressive Conservative Party of Canada to extinction to be replaced by the Reform Party later Canadian Alliance Party and later just plain Conservative Party of Canada.
So Diefenbaker was Canada’s last great hope before the onset of political zombies (mindless living dead corpses who went around eating brains) on to the Canadian political landscape which governed the country ever since.
And speaking of zombies, Cuban casinos were having a problem with zombies in that year of 1956.
Zombies were entering the casinos and frightening customers.
As well as stealing cash from the casino safes and safety deposit boxes.
A meeting of Cuban casino owners was held in the Glowing Sun and Burning Sands Whorehouse in Havana to discuss the problem.
A follow up meeting was held in the city’s Sexually Transmitted Diseases Clinic waiting room.
It was agreed to call in Los Angeles Private Eye Carson Cody Albion to investigate the problem.
Albion was recommended to the Havana Casino Owners group by a Monte Carlo casino owner (who had employed Albion as a house detective in a Monte Carlo casino and hotel the year before).
Albion arrived in Havana the following week.
After spending an evening drinking Cuba Libres in a Havana bar with a couple of interesting fellows named Fidel and Che, Carson Cody Albion set to work on the case.
Meanwhile in an Anglican Church in Havana that served British and Commonwealth diplomatic staff at the city’s embassies, an intensely stupid looking man with fish eyes and weird looking silver hair (that would have easily given Donald Trump’s urine golden coloured toupee a run for its money) sat playing the organ.
The man’s name was Keith Bennett.
Although that wasn’t the man’s real name.
His real name was Armilius Wolfstein a Nazi scientist (but not a very bright Nazi scientist unlike many of the evil geniuses of the Third Reich) who served as a somewhat dim witted assistant to the evil and notorious Dr. Josef Mengele.
Armilius Wolfstein fled to Argentina when the Second World War ended.
Wolfstein had had an interesting history.
He lived in Munich in the 1920s where he had tried unsuccessfully to apply to various universities and post-secondary institutions in the city.
He landed a job as a commercial and advertising salesman for a newspaper and magazine publishing firm in the city.
He had a friend Kitz Mjolnir (like the hammer of Thor) who lived in Munich.
When Kitz’s father died and the Mjolnir family estate was sold, Kitz had taken a small preliminary payout from the Estate to move to Berlin where he hoped to get into that city’s burgeoning film industry.
Armilius Wolfstein had told Kitz that if he ever needed help or decided to move back to Munich to get in touch with him and he’d move an arm and a leg to help him out.
While Kitz was in Berlin, his father’s Estate lawyer in Munich, either due to being a crook or due to gross incompetence, had absconded with most of the Estate funds.
Kitz was now left with nothing.
Unable to pursue his chance of a film career in Berlin and unable to land a job, Kitz returned to Bavaria.
But to the city of Regensburg.
Having trouble settling down in Regensburg, Kitz decided to move back to Munich but would need help finding a place.
He recalled Armilius Wolfstein’s offer to help so wrote him a letter.
Being the pompous asshole that Armilius Wolfstein was, Wolfstein had replied to Kitz with an arrogant and condescending letter.
Kitz thought of writing a letter in which he’d tell Wolfstein that he (Wolfstein) was so full of shit that if they gave him an enema before he died, they could bury him in a cigar box.
But he decided not to waste time in replying to such a venereal disease infested piece of rubbish.
So having stabbed a friend in the back, Wolfstein went on to join the German National Socialist Workers’ Party (the Nazis).
. . .
When the Nazis succeeded in taking power in Germany in 1933, Wolfstein like numerous misfits across the country was able to land a job by acting as a total brown shirted brown noser to the Nazi Party and moved into a position of importance, power and prestige.
He became a lab assistant to Dr. Josef Mengele although he bragged to friends and acquaintances that he was a scientist.
He assisted Mengele in performing the various inhumane experiments that the Nazis’ Dr. Death performed on individuals belonging to groups that the Third Reich had deemed and labelled as subhuman.
During those experiments, Wolfstein had occasionally run into an individual known as Franz Kohler of the Nazi SS Ahnenerbe Occult Bureau.
When the war ended in 1945, Armilius Wolfstein had fled to Argentina.
There he changed his name to Keith Bennett and claimed to be an English expatriate living in Argentina.
Bennett had taken up the study of music and became an organist (although in fact he played the instrument very badly).
Whilst living in Buenos Aires, he came across a Spanish language edition of The Necronomicon (mentioned in Lovecraftian lore) and getting help with the translation from a professional Argentinian wrestler, Bennett started using dark arts sorcery to raise the dead.
It was while he was doing this, that Keith Bennett (the former Armilius Wolfstein) once again encountered Franz Kohler of the Nazi SS Ahnenerbe Occult Bureau.
Kohler then took Bennett (as he now called himself) to Haiti to study under Haitian voodoo practitioners in raising the dead.
Bennett posed as an Anglican lay missionary while in Haiti.
No one thought of asking what an Anglican lay missionary was doing in learning voodoo, raiding cemeteries and cultivating plantations of zombies.
Although Bennett in the 1950s was doing what the later Anglican Communion of the 1960s would be doing when such notables as U.S. Episcopalian Bishop James Pike would be busy consulting spiritist mediums such as Arthur Ford on television.
Pike would go on to die a horrible and mysterious death in a desert in Israel for his efforts.
But that would not be the fate of Keith Bennett, Anglican lay missionary.
Having mastered the art of zombie raising, Bennett was then taken by Franz Kohler to Havana, Cuba.
There Bennett would start raising Cubans from the dead.
Kohler was hoping to raise an army of Cuban zombies to attack Florida and establish a Nazi Fourth Reich beachhead on the United States of America.
But like the best laid plans of mice and men, the best laid plans of Nazi SS Ahnenerbe Occult Bureau officers often go astray as well.
Two men named Fidel and Ernesto were planning a Communist revolution in Cuba.
So what would Cuba end up being?
A Communist state?
Or the Caribbean launching grounds for a Neo-Nazi Fourth Reich?
In fact it would be neither Franz Kohler and the asinine Keith Bennett nor Fidel Castro and Ernesto Che Guevara who would throw the deciding and winning pair of dice in which way the winds of change on the Caribbean island of Cuba would blow.
That would be decided by Carson Cody Albion Private Eye.
. . .
Albion was lying in bed after spending the last several hours making out with Dolly Castro (a cousin of Fidel and Raoul).
There was a pounding at the door.
It was the hotel and casino manager.
“Zombies,” shouted the hotel manager, “zombies have crashed the hotel’s dirty dancing competition and one of them has carried away the U.S. Ambassador’s niece.”
“Wow, someone certainly hasn’t been having the time of their life,” Albion opened the door.
“You’ve got to come quickly,” the manager said.
“That’s the opposite of what Dolly has been telling me all evening,” Albion remarked.
“The U.S. Ambassador’s niece is in danger,” the manager cried.
“I guess you don’t want the U.S. Ambassador’s niece dirty dancing with a zombie,” Albion followed the manager down the hallway.
. . .
The zombie was dragging the Ambassador’s niece into the house owned by Keith Bennett Anglican lay missionary and badly playing organist.
“I’ve never felt this way before,” the Ambassador’s niece cried.
The zombie (whose name had been Patrick in his mortal life) was busy swaying or swayzing in the Caribbean breeze on this moonlit Havana night.
Within seconds, salt pellets being fired by a machine gun sprayed the zombie killing him instantly.
For of course blessed salt kills zombies.
Albion picked up the U.S. Ambassador’s niece and carried her to his red convertible.
Screams could be heard from inside the house.
Just as Keith Bennett was playing The Old Master Painter on his organ.
Albion returned to the house with his machine gun containing 400 rounds of salt pellets, kicked in the door and began firing.
Franz Kohler’s army of zombies began dropping like flies.
Bennett reached for his own revolver to shoot at Albion.
The former Nazi pseudo-scientist turned Anglican lay minister and incompetent organist had his head blown off by Che Guevara’s machine gun as the young revolutionary came charging through the backdoor.
“Brains, brains,” a dying zombie tried to lick up what was oozing out of Bennett’s gaping head wound.
“No brains,” were the zombie’s last words before he died.
“Nice shooting,” said Albion.
“Thanks,” Che smiled, “I always have this recurring nightmare about being killed in a shoot out in the mountains of Bolivia.”
“You don’t want that to happen,” Albion noted.
“So, where are you going now?” Guevara asked.
“Out to my convertible to entertain Uncle Sam’s niece,” Albion answered.
“Really?” Guevara had a twinkle in his eye, “Do you know what Chairman Mao Tse-tung’s favourite quotation is?”.
“Can’t say that I do,” Albion admitted, “I’ve never read his Little Red Book.
“His favourite quotation,” Che winked, “is screw the U.S. Imperialists.”
“An excellent idea,” Albion smiled and walked out towards his car on this warm Havana night.
-A vampire novel chapterÂ
written by Christopher
Wednesday January 22nd
2020.
80th Anniversary of Nazi Germany’s Invasion of Poland
80th Anniversary of Nazi Germany’s Invasion of Poland
Eighty years ago today at dawn on the morning of September 1st 1939, the German Luftwaffe (Air Force) bombed the Polish city of Wielun a town with no military significance whatsoever. Its sole purpose was to sow terror among Poland’s civilian population. Thousands of people died in the bombings.
At the same time in the Polish coastal city of Gdansk, Nazi German battleships attacked the Polish military base of Westerplatte in that city.
In Warsaw at the same time, a group of men in black who were Franz Kohler of the Nazi SS Ahnenerbe Occult Bureau and some of his associates had raided the palatial estate of the Polish vampiress Countess Elena Dubrovna and were looking for her coffin hoping to take her back to Berlin where Heinrich Himmler and Der Fuhrer might make use of her.
They couldn’t find her.
. . .
On January 25th 1938, Heinrich Himmler the head of the SS had given the order for 12 SS officers to perform the ultimate sacrifice for the Fatherland.
They were to allow themselves to be beheaded and their heads would be kept alive in laboratories.
Their heads and minds would concentrate on developing their psychic powers and try to reach a level where they would be able to communicate with the Ascended Masters of the Himalayas who were the progenitors of the Aryan race according to Nazi SS teaching.
On February 14th 1938, the 12 SS officers were finally selected and they were subsequently beheaded after a night of tantric sex with the most luscious and lovely Aryan maidens.
On Lammas Night August 1st 1939, the 12 heads were overshadowed by the Ascended Masters who told Himmler that now was the time to invade Poland.
Himmler communicated the message to Der Fuhrer.
Arrangements were made for a non-aggression pact to be signed with the Soviet Union on August 23rd 1939.
On September 1st 1939, Poland was invaded by the forces of the Third Reich.
World War II had officially begun.
. . .
In London, England on September 1st 2019, an official of Germany’s Federal Intelligence Service (BND) was meeting with an official of Russia’s Foreign Intelligence Service (SVR).
Said a shocked Comrade Stroganoff to a smiling Herr Hanover, “You mean those 12 SS heads are still alive today?”.
“They are,” Herr Hanover nodded.
“Where are they?” Comrade Stroganoff asked.
“Attached to tubes and wires and bubbling away on Jeffrey Epstein’s Zorro Ranch in New Mexico,” Herr Hanover downed a shooter called Doctor Frankenstein.
“On Jeffrey Epstein’s Zorro Ranch?” Comrade Stroganoff was flabbergasted, “What was a person of Jewish ancestry doing with the living disembodied heads of 12 SS officers who were beheaded way back in 1938?”.
“You might as well ask what was a person of Jewish ancestry like Jeffrey Epstein doing utilizing a eugenics breeding program to create a master race on his Zorro Ranch? Similar to a eugenics breeding program envisioned by the likes of SS leader Heinrich Himmler?” Herr Hanover shrugged, “The guy was a nut case as well as a pervert.”
“Do the Americans know about the 12 SS officers’ living disembodied heads on Epstein’s Zorro Ranch?” Stroganoff asked.
“No,” Herr Hanover shook his head, “Otherwise the place would have been raided now by American authorities. Girls being raped by perverts and pedophiles isn’t enough to send the FBI crawling over the ranch with a fine tooth comb. But if a source of esoteric power capable of communicating with higher beings in another dimension was known to be on the ranch, all manner of U.S. government agencies would be falling over one another trying to find the heads.”
“So it’s agreed then that Germany and Russia will share the heads after our joint forces clandestinely raid the ranch?” Said Stroganoff.
“Ja,” Hanover answered in the German affirmative, “Six for us. And six for you.”
Former DARPA contract assassiness Panty Goatee watched the two intelligence officers sitting in their outdoor cafe sidewalk chairs from nearby stairs.
She reached under her skirt, pulled out a gun that sat just above her pantyhose line and shot both intelligence operatives dead.
She then met with Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing in a nearby cocktail lounge where she related what she had overheard.
-A vampire novel chapterÂ
written by ChristopherÂ
Sunday September 1st
2019.
Renfield Discusses Day of Fires
Renfield R. Renfield MP was having a Saturday night dinner with his friends Amadeus Emanon and Angelique Dumont.
Renfield mentioned, “So, I just found out last night that there was a fire at the al-Aqsa mosque in Jerusalem at the exact same time as the fire at Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris.”
“I didn’t know that,” Amadeus stopped in the middle of eating his salmon.
“It received almost no news coverage in the world on that day other than in the Middle East,” Renfield explained.
“What a strange coincidence that was,” Angelique reflected, “that two major centers of worship- Notre Dame in Paris and the al-Aqsa in Jerusalem would both have fires that same day.”
“Was Dr. Cadbury Rocher’s escaped basilisk responsible for the fire at the al-Aqsa mosque as well as that at Notre Dame?” Amadeus asked.
“Well, Dr. Rocher had implanted a GPS signal in the basilisk’s DNA so he’d know its location- technology which both the Chinese government and the U.S. government are currently fighting to develop so they can be the first to implement the Mark of the Beast system that no human being will be able to buy or sell without the Mark of the Beast in their DNA,” Renfield mentioned, “the GPS in Basilisk Wrathsbone’s DNA was picked up by sensors in the lobster claws of Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster. Apparently the basilisk was nowhere near the al-Aqsa mosque at the time the fire started like it was at the exact location of Notre Dame when that fire started.”
“So I wonder who started the fire at the al-Aqsa mosque?” Angelique pondered aloud.
. . .
The commander of the Vampiric Knights-Templar Sir Boyle of Olay was speaking to Allatallahbell the Vampiress Priestess of Baal.
“Our efforts to burn down the al-Aqsa mosque this past Monday were sadly put to nought,” Sir Boyle of Olay commented, “the fire was finally brought under control. So we will have to wait a wee bit longer for the Temple of Solomon to be rebuilt. Even though most of Israel’s leading kabbalistic rabbis are sick of waiting.”
“It will take a while longer then for the god Baal to get his statue back up on the Temple Mount like it was when Solomon succumbed to the foreign influences of some of his 700 wives and 300 concubines and started erecting statues of his wives’ and concubines’ deities in the Temple,” Allatallahbell looked unhappy.
“We should never have brought the Headless Horseman of Sleepy Hollow along on our mission,” Sir Boyle of Olay sighed, “He went and lost his head again. And as a result picked up bottles of coconut milk instead of cannisters of gasoline down at the Old City market. So we didn’t have enough fuel to start a real raging inferno.”
. . .
Today’s date.
Holy Saturday.
The Nazi vampire Franz Kohler of the SS Ahnenerbe Occult Bureau lit a cigarette.
April 20th.
Der Fuhrer’s birthday.
It had been a Holy Saturday as well – April 20th- in the year 1889- when Der Fuhrer had been born.
Now exactly 130 years later- Der Fuhrer’s birthday – was a Holy Saturday again.
Fires at Notre Dame in Paris and the al-Aqsa mosque in Jerusalem earlier in the week- both on the same day of Holy Week.
This was surely a sign from the Cosmos that there was something providential about this particular Holy Saturday as well.
Kohler’s cigarette went out.
He lit it again as the voice of a wolf howled on one hill.
And the voice of a jackal howled on the other.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday April 20th
2019.
Allatallahbell the Vampiress Priestess of Baal:
Waiting in time for the rebuilt Temple of Solomon
Renfield Vs. Crowley Idolizing Jesuits: Vengeance For The Basilisk Attack On Notre Dame
After Dr. Cadbury Rocher was handed over to his great-grandmother the immortal dominatrix Sherrielock Holmes to get his buns tomatoed for genetically creating the basilisk that caused the fire that engulfed Notre Dame, Renfield was busy tracking down the Aleister Crowley admiring Jesuit priest Father Caiaphas bar Yochai the dark arts practicing sorcerer who flew the basilisk named Basilisk Wrathsbone that set fire to repair scaffolding at Notre Dame with his fiery venomous breath.
Father Caiaphas worked in the Antiquities Section of the Vatican Museum, headed the Rome chapter of the O.T.O. (Ordo Templi Orientis) and served as an advisor on papal liturgies for the Mass to Pope Francis.
Renfield found out in between blood curdling screams screamed by Dr. Rocher in Sherrielock’s dungeon below the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set’s colossal London mansion that the odour of the weasel was apparently fatal to the basilisk.
Renfield bought a bottle of Odour of Weasel Perfume from a discount drug store in London’s Soho district.
He went down to Set Enterprises laboratory and got Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster to visualize the current location of the basilisk Basilisk Wrathsbone.
The Baphomet worshipping Jesuit Father Caiaphas bar Yochai had apparently flown the basilisk to Libya for safety after the disastrous choice he made in getting the basilisk to set fire to Notre Dame with its fiery venomous breath.
The basilisk was a big hit with some of the Islamist terrorist militants there who shouted “Allah akbar!” when Notre Dame went up in flames.
Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing and the Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec had volunteered to fight the basilisk and Father Caiaphas.
Qonzilqointec and Dracul had flown to Amman Jordan to meet Pegasus the winged horse (also genetically recreated by Dr. Cadbury Rocher) who would be their steed in battling the evil basilisk and its evil Jesuit rider.
Pegasus was currently owned by Queen Rania of Jordan.
Aztec vampiress and Canadian slayer returned to London on Pegasus.
There the Aztec vampiress picked up the bottle of Odour of Weasel Perfume from Renfield to slay the evil basilisk and Dracul picked up the authentic sword of Saint George the Dragonslayer from The Old Curiosity Shop (of Dickensonian fame) to slay the evil Jesuit.
Then they were off to Libya for the final showdown.
The Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec: With a small bottle of Odour of Weasel Perfume in her purse, she’s off to Libya on Pegasus to slay the evil basilisk Basilisk Wrathsbone.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday April 16th
2019.
The Basilisk and The Fire At Notre Dame Cathedral
Set Enterprises’ resident sanity challenged scientist Dr. Cadbury Rocher entered British MP Renfield R. Renfield’s office with a face whiter than a ghost.
“Your face is whiter than I am,” the ghost of Sir Winston Churchill remarked.
“And me as well,” commented the ghost of Orson Welles who was still in a state of shock over the fact that someone commenting on Dracul Van Helsing’s blog had never heard of him Orson Welles.
“And whiter than I am,” added the ghost of the late Ugandan dictator Idi Amin who had dropped into Renfield’s office just for the Hell of it.
“It’s this fire at Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris,” Rocher sat down and helped himself to a bottle of Renfield’s whiskey.
“A devastating tragedy for all of humanity,” Renfield agreed.
And the ghosts of Churchill, Amin and Welles nodded their assent.
Within seconds, Amin’s ghost was chased back to the Underworld by Hades’ 3-headed dog Cerberus since it was Underworld policy that dictators and despots inclined to ethnic genocide should not be allowed to leave the place.
Amin returned to his spit alongside King Leopold II of Belgium down in Tartarus.
“Look at these photos someone text messaged me an hour ago,” Dr. Rocher showed Renfield his phone.
“Unholy smoke, Batman!” Renfield exclaimed, “They show a Jesuit priest (wearing his Jesuit robes and a t-shirt emblazoned with a photo of Aleister Crowley) riding a medieval basilisk and setting fire to repair scaffolding at Notre Dame with the basilisk’s fiery venom.”
“But I thought basilisks died out with the end of the Middle Ages,” Churchill bit the end of his spectral cigar, “so the Renaissance pope Julius II wrote in his diary when he hired Michelangelo to paint the Sistine Chapel in celebration of the death of the last basilisk.”
“Undoubtedly one of those evil 21st Century Transhumanist scientists has genetically re-created a basilisk again just to show the world they could do it,” Welles sipped a spectral glass of red wine.
“That would be me,” Dr. Rocher did a bad impersonation of American comic Bob Newhart whenever the comedian was caught with his pants down- metaphorically speaking (unlike Bill Clinton).
“You recreated a basilisk?” Renfield was shocked (and resolved never to screw in a lightbulb on his own again).
“I did,” Dr. Rocher held his head in shame, “just to show the world I could do it.”
“What did I tell you?” Welles’ ghost finished his wine and thought back to a radio commercial he once did about frozen peas growing in the ground in Norway in mid-July.
“Oh, shut up, Orson,” Churchill’s ghost was getting irritated.
“And you let this Jesuit have it?” Renfield wiped his spectacles, “Don’t you know that a great multitude of Jesuits are a bunch of satanic perverts?”.
“This Jesuit stole it from the barn where it was being held for safekeeping,” Dr. Rocher blubbered, “along with a Nazi vampire who’s the last surviving member of the Nazi SS Ahnenerbe Occult Bureau.”
“These Nazis never get up to any good,” Renfield fumed over his glass of whiskey.
“Agreed,” Chuchill’s ghost affirmed as he fumed over his glass of brandy.
“Most Jesuits never get up to any good either,” Welles poured himself another spectral glass of red wine and recalled a conversation he once had with film director Alfred Hitchcock on the subject.
On the television in Renfield’s office, the Kraken Napoleon VI addressed the world media with the fire smouldering Notre Dame in the background.
“My wife Medusa and I were married in that cathedral,” the Kraken wept octopus (as opposed to crocodile) tears, “we had ourselves crowned Emperor and Empress of France in that Cathedral even though most French citizens never recognized the coronation. The Egyptian vampiress Isis pushed world-famous Swiss scientist Dr. Fahrenheit Celsius to his death from the bell tower of Notre Dame. And Dr. Cadbury Rocher used the vampiress Isis’ secret laboratory below Notre Dame (which isn’t so secret anymore now that I just blabbed about it) to re-assemble the sub-atomic particles of the vampire Osiris after he had been disintegrated by a Russian laser death ray.”
“I didn’t know you had done that?” Renfield looked at Dr. Cadbury Rocher, “Does Set know you did that?”.
“He does now,” Dr. Rocher sighed.
Putting on a tartan kilt and a t-shirt emblazoned with a photo of Mel Gibson as Braveheart William Wallace, the Kraken swore to the world media that he would destroy whoever and whatever was responsible for the fire that engulfed Notre Dame.
“Wait until my great-grandmother the immortal dominatrix Sherrielock Holmes finds out I was the one responsible for creating the basilisk that caused the fire that engulfed Notre Dame,” Dr. Rocher continued to snivel, “I’ll be unable to sit down comfortably for the next decade.”
“With all due respect, Dr. Rocher,” Renfield admonished, “with this devastation of a great French, European and world cultural landmark, the prospect that your buttocks will be in the upmost suffering and agony for the next 10 years seems the least pressing of all the major problems afflicting the world at the present moment.”
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Monday April 15th
2019.
The immortal world famous London dominatrix Sherrielock Holmes:
Will get to the bottom of whoever was responsible for creating the basilisk that caused the fire that engulfed Notre Dame
Semiramis and Dracul Van Helsing: A Place In The Sun
Semiramis the former Queen of Babylon with General Alberto Alfonso Diega
The year was 1948.
And Semiramis was in a certain part of the globe standing alongside General Alberto Alfonso Diega the Deputy Foreign Minister in Generalissimo Francisco Franco’s Spain.
Semiramis had helped Franco’s Spanish Nationalists defeat the Spanish Republicans in the Spanish Civil War.
As such Ernest Hemingway in his 1940 novel For Whom The Bell Tolls never bothered to mention her by name in retaliation for her efforts.
Semiramis, although a fan of John Donne’s poetry and even some of Hemingway’s other writings, didn’t really care.
She feared that if the Spanish Republicans won the Civil War in Spain, the Stalinists would emerge victorious out of all the Republican factions.
She found Stalin to be a boorish and savage little brute.
In this respect, her judgment was more sound than that of many foreign policy advisors in the Franklin Delano Roosevelt Administration.
And now on this day General Diega and some of his men served as her bodyguards at a particular site.
Unknown to the Spanish troops but known to Semiramis, the site was the location of Alexander the Great’s tomb.
In her hand, Semiramis held a watch to see which time traveler showed up first.
Semiramis holds a watch in her hand.
Meanwhile Franz Kohler of the Nazi SS Ahnenerbe Occult Bureau was on a wild goose chase having been fed faulty information by allies of Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing.
The wild goose chase had taken him to a flock of wild geese on Beaverhill Lake near Tofield, Alberta, Canada.
“Damn!” Kohler sneezed as he had a severe allergy to wild geese.
Next Kohler found himself in a Classical Music LP Record warehouse.
He went up to a Terminator robot that looked like Arnold Schwarzenegger.
In his hand, Kohler held a slip of paper with the code word question.
He spoke to the futuristic robot.
“Excuse me, where can I find the Brandenburg Concertos?” Kohler asked the Terminator.
“Aisle B, Bach,” the Terminator replied.
As Kohler went off to discover the explosive LP that would explode in the SS officer’s face, Dracul Van Helsing arrived in time to claim the watch from Semiramis.
“You have won, Van Helsing,” she smiled at him.
And under a beautiful night sky, Semiramis revealed her secrets to Van Helsing including the location of Alexander the Great’s tomb.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday April 12th
2019.
Allatallahbel On A Desert Highway, Golgotha and DNA Altering Swedish Meatballs
The Vampiress Allatallahbel on a desert highway in Nevada
It had recently come to the attention of Allatallahbel the Vampiress Priestess of Baal that London private eyes Agathor Christie and Magog Rhys Petley were investigating the mysterious death of Argentine adult film star Natacha Jaitt.
German Cardinal Walter Kasper had told her this investigation might prove hazardous to the pontificate of Pope Francis.
And Jorge Mario Bergoglio had proved to be a very accomodating useful idiot to her Vampiric Knights-Templar and their Freemasonic allies.
Allatallahbel decided she better do something to end the investigation.
She had discovered their investigation had taken them to an Argentine run casino in Las Vegas Nevada.
Now it was taking them to a little known polar bear fur trading post in the Nevada desert which was proving to be a huge Donald Trump approved tax write-off for the Argentine run casino.
Allatallahbel put on her best desert highway hitchhiking attire on the road Agathor and Magog would be driving towards the money losing polar bear fur trading post:
Both men (who were not wearing seat belts) went flying through the windshields of their Budget Rent-A-Car Volkswagen when Magog hit the brakes upon seeing her.
. . .
DARPA contract assasin and satyr serial killer Pan Goatee had felt a craving for a Meatball Marinara sub sandwich at the Subway store in a nearby mall.
He had gone there and discovered to his horror that a ugly looking woman was already in line at the counter in front of him.
Goatee whose serial killing specialty was killing ugly looking women promptly beheaded the uglo with his astral laser machete.
He had lost his appetite upon seeing the ugly looking creature and decided to walk to a nearby discount supermarket to buy some bottles of generic brand Diet Cola.
He of course got in line behind a beautiful looking woman.
But then an ugly looking woman who was stupid as well as ugly that was in front of the beautiful looking woman had discovered that she had brought the wrong brands of pizza- the ones not on sale- and tried getting in Pan Goatee’s way to go get the properly discounted ones.
Goatee promptly beheaded the ugly looking airhead.
“To raise the collective IQ of the world and improve the Earth’s aesthetic beauty all in one stroke,” Goatee remarked as he put the astral laser machete back in his Clint Eastwood autographed Two Mules For Sister Sarah spaghetti western holster.
. . .
The ancient Babylonian vampiress Lilith inside one of the catacombs in Rome
Lilith was in one of the catacombs beneath the Vatican.
Near one of the tombs of the ancient Nephilim giants that the Vatican had kept hidden from the world for centuries.
On the grave of a rare Nephilim dwarf, Imhotep the Rome-based Egyptian souvenir vendor and former High Priest-Scientist of Ra was working overtime to save the Undead life of the Nazi SS Ahnenerbe Occult Bureau vampire Franz Kohler.
He had found Kohler’s body after the latter had been shot with silver bullets fired at him by Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing at the Latin numeral Clock of Thoth in London a couple of nights ago.
Imhotep had used a papal dirigible The Sindenburg to fly the body from London to Rome.
He had extracted the silver bullets from Kohler’s body while on the Sindenburg and then used a brew of extracts of three tana leaves (as recommended by the Universal Pictures Mummy horror movies of the early 1940s) to keep the SS vampire alive.
Now he was about to use a brew of extracts of nine tana leaves (also recommended by the Universal Pictures Mummy horror movies of the early 1940s) to restore full movement, life and consciousness back to the SS vampire.
Lilith smiled as she saw Kohler’s eyes open and then ask, “Does anybody know where I can buy some good Bavarian beer sausage?”.
. . .
The Irish leprechaun Yaldabaoth was having a lunch of Guinness stout and pork pies with the Himalayan golden cobra serpent Maitreya who had crowned himself High King of Ireland a couple of years ago.
“Do you know what they’re now claiming in Pakistan?” Yaldabaoth asked Maitreya.
“No, what?” Maitreya asked as he used a New Age crystal healing stone (highly recommended by Tom Brady’s witch wife Gisele Bundchen) to try to re-heat his pork pie.
“That the recent Indian air strikes on Pakistan were part of a combined Hindu-Zionist plot to destroy Pakistan,” Yaldabaoth downed a full 72 ounce glass of Guinness, “and that Israeli Air Force pilots even participated in the air strikes on Pakistan.”
“How stupid can people get,” Maitreya remarked as using the New Age healing stone to re-heat his pork pie seemed to be going nowhere.
“I hope this won’t affect me any,” Yaldabaoth gorged down a whopping piece of pork pie, “my mother Sophia the Greco-Egyptian Gnostic goddess of wisdom told the Neo-Platonist schools of Alexandria that I Yaldabaoth am the same entity as Yahweh the god of the Hebrews. She came up with this idea after going on a hallucinogenic trip when she drank some fermented juice that was given her by the Hindu moon god Soma. This idea has since passed into Gnosticism where many Gnostic groups are convinced that I’m a bumbling demi-urge who stupidly created the material universe- the same charge that’s leveled against Yahweh.”
“I think with your love of pork pies,” Maitreya threw away the New Age healing stone in disgust, “no one would mistake you for the god of the Hebrews.”
. . .
Golgotha dressed as a Viking warrior princess ready to steal some DNA altering Swedish meat balls from a combined lab and kitchen in Stockholm.
The vampiress Golgotha had been sent to Stockholm Sweden by her mother the ancient Babylonian vampiress Lilith.
It had come to the attention of Lilith’s vast intelligence network that the Norse goddess Freya working in concert with the famous Swedish-Italian cook Chef Bjorg Jar (pronounced Yar) Dee had invented some DNA altering Swedish meatballs which, when consumed, gave people super human strength.
Lilith desired these DNA altering Swedish meatballs for the vast army of warriors she was building in Central Asia.
And now Golgotha dressed as a Viking warrior princess would be battling the intelligence agencies of the world in the kitchens of Stockholm to get the secret recipe for these DNA altering Swedish meatballs.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Thursday March 14th
2019.
Semiramis and Dracul Van Helsing In 1890s San Francisco
Semiramis the former Queen of Babylon in the San Francisco of the 1890s
Semiramis had been having dinner with British Prime Minister Theresa May discussing Brexit and the Irish border question when suddenly the ghost of the Rev. Ian Paisley (recently granted temporary dispensational release from Purgatory by Hades the Greek god of the Underworld) showed up complaining about the fact that there was indeed a Purgatory which the good reverend stated that he found very offensive to his Ulster style Presbyterian beliefs.
To top it off, Rev. Paisley complained that his little corner of Purgatory happened to be right next door to the little corner of Tartarus where Rodrigo Borgia (better known as Pope Alexander VI) was busy roasting away on his spit.
The debaucherous evil pontiff’s screams were keeping him awake at night, Rev. Paisley bellyached.
Rev. Paisley then glanced at Semiramis and the very short skirted mini dress she was wearing.
“Aren’t you the Whore of Babylon?” Rev. Paisley asked Semiramis as he clutched a rare first edition of Alexander Hislop’s The Two Babylons in his ghostly spectral hands.
Semiramis gave the Rev. Ian Paisley such a fierce slap across his ghostly spectral face that it sent the late former Northern Ireland politician flying all the way to European Commission headquarters in Brussels.
“Excuse me,” Semiramis addressed Theresa May as she ran off to the washroom.
“How dare that orangish little bigot call me a whore,” Semiramis applied a very deep scarlet coloured rouge red lipstick to her lips as she looked at her lovely beautiful reflection in the mirror.
The lipstick she was applying to her lips was her time travelling lipstick- lipstick that enabled her to travel anywhere in time.
“Take me to San Francisco in the 1890s,” she whispered as she closed her eyes.
Semiramis found herself in 1890s San Francisco dressed in a lovely and beautifully elegant dress and hat of that decade.
“Well, how about this for a coincidence?” Dracul Van Helsing looked up from the bed on which he had been lying.
Minutes before, he had been sent to this time and place by the CERN Large Hadron Collidor as a result of the ghosts of John F. Kennedy and Nikita Krushchev arguing over the controls at the site.
Van Helsing picked up Krushchev’s shoe and threw it out the hotel room window where it landed on one of Richard M. Nixon’s forebears who had gone shopping for new kitchen decor along with his wife.
“That sounds like lovely music the orchestra is playing in the hotel ballroom downstairs,” Semiramis flicked back her hair, “why don’t we go downstairs and dance and then come back up here and have tantric sex afterwards?”.
“That sounds like an excellent idea,” Van Helsing got dressed.
Downstairs they danced to the Blue Danube Waltz of Johann Strauss.
The time travelling Nazi SS Ahnenerbe Occult Bureau vampire Franz Kohler entered the ballroom at that moment and noticed the pair.
Kohler was in the San Francisco of the 1890s investing in steam bath houses as, being from the future, he knew that investing in bath houses would prove to be a profitable investment in San Francisco.
“What a ravishingly beautiful woman,” Kohler looked longingly at Semiramis and seethed with jealousy at Van Helsing.
He recalled a lecture that he had once heard “that odious Jewish ghost” (in Kohler’s own words) of Sigmund Freud deliver in a London Masonic hall a few weeks ago in 2019, that Tammuz seemed to spend more time on the Viennese psychoanalyst’s couch down in Purgatory than anybody else.
He could see why.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday March 9th
2019.
Atargatis and Van Helsing, Whitstable and Priyanka, Sherrielock Holmes and Maduro
The northern Syrian mermaid goddess Atargatis in human form
The northern Syrian mermaid goddess Atargatis had shapeshifted into fully human form and was sitting in a luxury hotel suite in a swank New York City hotel in February of 1944.
A huge battle was currently going on between time travellers.
Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing was battling Nazi SS Ahnenerbe officer Franz Kohler up and down the corridors of time and various epochs in history.
Kohler was using the technology of Die Glocke a bell shaped space-going and time travelling Nazi UFO like saucer craft.
Dracul Van Helsing was using the Houdini-Tesla-Welles-Lamarr prototype magic lantern film projector to travel back and forth through time.
Also interfering in the time travelling war was the CERN Large Hadron Collidor in Switzerland being run by scientists who were indulging in far too much use of legalized recreational Canadian cannabis.
Also partaking in the pot inhalation was the Hindu god Shiva (whose statue was outside the CERN tunnel) who as a result was trying to conduct the Swiss National Symphony Orchestra into conducting a personal musical number that the deity was composing tentatively called Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony Meets Freddie Mercury’s Bohemian Rhapsody.
The first negative critic of the piece was Shiva’s wife Kali who was using all ten of her arms to cover her ears and when that didn’t work had fled to an artist’s studio on a quiet Greek island.
Now the conflict between Van Helsing and Kohler had turned to New York City in February 1944 a few months before the June D-Day Invasion of Normandy.
Van Helsing had just managed to evade arrest by Astana Kazakhstan police authorities for an assassination attempt on Russian President Vladimir Putin and the supernatural entity Black Dragon of Beijing.
The vampire hunter did have an alibi in that he was being spanked by and having tantric sex with the vampiress Golgotha (vampiress daughter of the ancient Babylonian vampiress Lilith) at the time.
But the Astana Kazakhstan authorities were the type to torture first and ask questions later.
So Van Helsing pressed the button on his Houdini-Tesla-Welles-Lamarr protype magic lantern and found himself in New York City in February 1944.
As a result of Orson Welles one of the inventors of the Magic Lantern (whose prototype was finally completed by Austro-American actress and inventor Hedy Lamarr) loving to direct films in black and white, the world Van Helsing found himself in as he was time travelling was often in black and white.
“So, Mr. Van Helsing,” the human formed goddess Atargatis greeted him as he landed on her Persian rug in her elegant New York City suite, “I suppose you’re here to ask, where have I hidden the Greek sea god Poseidon’s trident?”.
Van Helsing decided to engage in French kissing with the elegant black silk blouse and elegant white skirt wearing northern Syrian goddess instead.
As for the whereabouts of Poseidon’s trident… well that was all Greek to Van Helsing.
. . .
The mermaid Priyanka on the rocks at Vancouver’s English Bay.
Peter Whitstable the man they called the Fox Mulder of Interpol was walking along the beach at Vancouver’s English Bay.
He had spent the past couple of weeks traversing British Columbia’s Sechelt Peninsula trying to find Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau’s marijuana pot smoking desert cactus plant Strawberry Fields Forever who had been abducted by the Chinese Communist vampiress Mei-ling Manchu (the daughter of Fu Manchu) as vengeance for the Canadian arrest at Vancouver International Airport of Huawei CFO Meng Wanzhou.
The pot smoking cactus plant would be freed when Meng Wanzhou was fully freed.
The plant had been hidden in the pot smoke covered hippy village of Calypso’s Bosom (a New Age Aquarian Age equivalent of Scotland’s mystical village of Brigadoon) on the Peninsula that had vanished off the face of the earth back in 1969 when Neil Armstrong said “That’s one small step for man, one giant leap for…” and there the transmission had ended when all the hippy commune members’ minds had blown simultaneously and the village had disappeared in a mystical marijuana laced mist of pot smoke.
The village/hippy commune only appeared once every 7 years for a single day and a single night.
Only supernatural entities such as vampiresses, gods and goddesses could access the village in the “meantime and in-between time” as an old Stampede Wrestling ring side announcer might phrase it.
Whitstable had hoped that by carrying the supernatural relic of the right hand middle finger of the last Knights-Templar Grand Master Jacques de Molay (the same middle finger that de Molay had raised towards his papal interrogators and his French Royal Army captors as he was being burnt at the stake on the night of March 18th 1314) in his pocket that he’d be able to locate the elusive village/hippy commune but no such luck.
It would be another few years before the village/hippy commune of Calypso’s Bosom appeared on its own again.
In the meantime Prime Minister Justin Trudeau was pulling his hair out (and might end up having to wear a toupee like his southern neighbour Donald Trump) until his pot smoking prickly little buddy Strawberry Fields Forever was returned to him.
As Whitstable approached the mermaid Priyanka leaning against a rock, he recognized her.
The mermaid might be able to help him with another case he was working on.
The Greek god of the sea Poseidon had recently reported to Interpol that his trident had been stolen.
“Excuse me, Priyanka,” Whitstable greeted the mermaid, “Do you know where Poseidon’s trident is?”.
. . .
World famous London dominatrix Sherrielock Holmes was in Caracas Venezuela on a mission for the British government.
British House of Commons Covert Intelligence Committee Co-Chairman Renfield R. Renfield had decided that drastic action must be taken against Venezuelan President Nicolas Maduro for Venezuelan Army soldiers gunning down innocent civilians who were trying to bring food and medical supplies across the Venezuelan-Brazilian border.
Sherrielock Holmes was across from Maduro’s Presidential Palace carrying a poison tipped umbrella.
The poison in the umbrella tip would render Maduro permanently impotent.
The only antidote to the “permanently impotent” poison would be a sperm transfusion from Donald Trump.
Something Maduro would be most reluctant to consider.
When Maduro left the palace, Sherrielock KO’d Maduro’s entire bodyguard with karate kicks.
She then injected the umbrella’s poisoned tip into Maduro’s penis.
The Venezuelan President was now permanently (as opposed to 95% of the time) impotent.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday February 23rd
2019.
Meanwhile in the room next door in the swank New York City hotel in February 1944, the Norse goddess Freya had knocked out Franz Kohler with a bottle of French champagne.
“What a sad waste of French champagne!” Freya thought to herself.
