Saturday, February 5, 2011


Now the mole people have tatters and scraps of most everything those up on the surface have. Some of the children tinker with 'found' laptops and intricately rigged signal hookups enabling them to slither onto the internet, I think they call it. So they have the ability to converse with other internet addicts all over the world. Let me tell you, those magic talking machines are hardly ever turned off. I think they have maybe two or three of them. And they crowd into some cozy, brick alcove and tap away. That's how it started. When the second mole sister in Jonathon's little harem received her blood gift, it did not work exactly as expected. Oh, it's not as if Jonathon was unhappy with the outcome, only he thought she's get 'healthier' that's all. But no, she had to be particular. She would not lick up the blood just as it was, fresh from his body. No, she had to mix it in some contemporary, luxury food. Spaghetti-O's, I think it is called. And she did eat it quick, but she ate it that way. So something in the 'love apple' (excuse me for using an old name for tomatoes) sauce changed things and she did not just get healthier. She got a pair of fancy, new breastesses as well. The other sister, the one that used to be a bit wall-eyed felt a little jealous, but what could she do? When you mix with magic, you have to be prepared to accept what shakes out. And vampires, a lot of them at least, possess forms of magic they don't even know about. So some of the mole children, not children actually, more like twelve and thirteen year old boys, find out about it. They jam in all around one of the magic talking, picute machines and start sending messages to never-seen best friends all over the globe. The next thing you know, folks all around the world learn that if you mix Spaghetti-O's with a tiny bit of 'human' blood and chew it up and swallow real fast, you will be the proud receipient of a brand new pair of tah-tah's (I think that is the contemporary medical term for the body part in question. Sometimes it is so hard for Zebulon, a disembodied spirit, to keep up.). Then, a little while later, we find out there's been a rush on food stores all over and it is now vertually impossible to get cans of that crimson delicacy anywhere. If you ask me, those magic, talking, picturing boxes are one of the most powerful forms of magic I know. They are almost right up there with the Akoshic Record itself and that is saying something. So Jonathon gives the other sister, the previously crazy-eyed one, a few more drops of his blood. and seeing as she is not as fancy as the other one, she gleefully slurps it right down. And they wait there, in their little quilt and blanket stuffed alcove for something to happen. But she doesn't really look any different. Oh, her skin was a little nicer. And seeing as it was only a 'casual' Saturday afternoon, she was bare all over, so there was plenty of skin to see. Even in the dim, warm, orange sterno light they could appreciate how nice it was. Only that's not what she wanted. So she continued to sulk and managed to wring the neck of one of the domesticated, food pigeons unlucky enough to get in her way. Jonathon told her he'd bring down some more of those Reeses Peanutbutter Cups she was so found of the next time he went 'up' and that helped to smooth things over. Later, when he gave her a real nice shower bath in the ruined restroom, he made a big fuss over her pretty skin. That tended to sweeten her up a bit too........ And what was going on 'up above'? Those 'finders', those human blood hounds, those detectives sent out by that secret group pretending to represent the Trinitarians in Rome were swarming all over like a company of ants. The Americans sent out by the Anti-Enchantment Bureau, I think they call it now, weren't doing too bad either. But the only things to happen so far were the aprehension of some sad old, fortune tellers, plus a particularly unusual , morbidly thin and somewhat manic gentleman in a tight, black, old fashioned business suit, with the astonishing ability to vault up to rooftops and terraces three stories high. Johnny Jump Up, I think he called himself. And he was rumored to be responsible for some mysterious crimes of his own......Ah, such is the word from Philadelphia after dark......Come back when next the Earth spins again and I will have some new secrets for you......

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