Wednesday, May 1, 2013


So by now the security alarms were all going off. There were bells... whistles. Believe me, this place had ALL the bells and whistles, plus something that went 'ah-ew-gah, ah-ew-gah,' just like a sinkin' submarine... Sprinklers were going off. Pinyattas were going off. And I had to spell it that way, 'cause we can't type Spanish here. Hi, this is Zebulon, the thirteen year old disembodied spirit from Old Judea under Herod the Great. Actually, I think in Aramaic, but wilkravitz' neurons make it into this kind a talk. I ain't narrated in a while, 'cause I been floating 'round Epcot, in Disney and now I know French... Ooh La-La! Magnifique!... See, I told ya. 

I also know what happened to Tobias Maxwell, the billionaire, ninety four year old, vampire-blood thief. When 'Papa' plummeted down through the house and rescued his vampiric 'son' Jonathon from the impenetrable chamber (well, impenetrable to everybody but him), they made for the old man's 'safe room,' 'cause Jonathon  (all desiccated, like a vampire beef jerky) needed blood. And every other human bean in the place that night was dead, 'cause of the piranha-rats. You can see where they were, by the giant blood puddles all over the floors. Only it ain't so much the drinking of the blood, as the taking of the life. So Tobias Maxwell was gonna die. 

He pissed hisself when 'Papa' yanked off the heavy vault door and quickly 'flickered' (progress in almost instantaneous, though staccato, six inch increments)  toward him.  The unbelievably ancient (though he looked like a thirty two or thirty three year old Richard Gere) tore off the old man's kimono. Well, not a real kimono. More like a  nineteen sixties' 'happy-coat' Robert Culp wore instead of a smoking jacket in I SPY. And threw him on the bed. Jonathon, who you might a thought was a young man shaped California Raisin, crawled in after. Tobias although terrified, did not look his full age, 'cause he did have most of Jonathon's stolen life-eater blood pumpin' through his body. He looked kind a like the guy who played Maude's husband on TV.  Kids who work at Epcot watch a lot a old time, late night shit. What can I tell you. Old guy scrunched hisself up by the headboard (like a tuck and roll upholstered wall), tryin' to hide his more vulnerable parts. He wheezin.' He sweatin.' He cryin.' Go - No! No! No! No!.... All the time Carson Daly watchin' it all from a huge flat screen on the opposite wall. But he jus' a TV show, so he don't care. TV show people act like they lookin' right in your eye, but they don't care 'bout nothin.' They jus' smile and go - Lucy, I'm home!! So 'Papa' threw that Maude's husband guy on the floor. I think it a all wool, Berber.  They got rugs like that when I was livin.' That how I know. 

Jonathon grab that pot-bellied thing and crack right through his chest. You know that flat bone you got in the middle a your titties? Well he break it and it stickin' up through the skin like somethin' come off the belly of a hard shell crab. Old guy shriek real bad then.  Three seconds later, Jonathon sink his teeth right in the wet, shiny, red heart .... It beatin'.... He drinkin'.... It beatin'.... He drinkin'.... It slow some, but he don't stop. Old man startin' a look like his true self. Liver spots come back. Boobies all scrawny. Got chicken legs now. Tongue all purple. No, not purple... black. I do wanna be accurate....... Then he die. Just like that. Go WHOOSH. Body sink down, like a cake what go flat. Ghost look all surprised. It sit on the bed, rockin' side to side like it crazy. Then, all of a sudden, it figure out what happen. Start punchin' itself in the head wit' it's fists. Jonathon sit on the floor all dazed too. But he startin' a look like hisself. Then 'Papa' grab him and sublimate (pass through solid matter) out a there, just as the cops come runnin' in. 

Sarah see it all from the street. She see 'Papa' (holdin' Jonathon) streak right up in a the sky. But nobody else do... 'cause they not vampire like her. Doctor Franklin there too. He got on a green, Eagles, sweat suit and he sittin' on a old-folks scooter, so nobody know it him. Even when they do know it him, everybody think he a Benjamin Franklin impersonator. This Philly. Old Ben like Mickey Mouse.

But now Jonathon safe... And he can go on preachin'....
thank you. hit THIS ... to see earlier episodes. then (and although I don't know too much about the workings of the sight, though I recognize how interesting it is), click on JOSEPH GORDON LEVITT'S GREAT NEW MEDIA OPPORTUNITY SITE ... scroll down to TINY STORIES and search for THE SELF-CONSCIOUS WITCHLING & THE DIRTY BRASSIERE and please read it, 'cause I think I wrote it. maybe recommend it? also, leave a COMMENT here, 'cause YOUR LINK will automatically appear right along with it. hey, FAME... it's a wonderful thing.... adios...

1 comment:

Kaye Francis said...

Not that you don't already have a vast assortment of richly flowing unique characters going on Billy, (clears throat) I wanna special gramma vampire (or creature)~ (clears throat some more) ~ you have at least one prototype to draw from....

1. This gramma would abhorr the smell, the texture, the taste of blood. She doesn't particularly like any type of violent ways to meet her needs. She would liken her daily dose of blood to kids that had to take cod liver oil or tonics never knew they had it so good.

2. This gramma could change her appearance to be young n beautiful, an awful looking hag mess, or simple gramma with a wee bit of a belly tire. Her food preferences are pizza and donuts that don't make that belly tire expand more than it currently does.

3. She loves to surprise hag the entitled brats, self absorbed, unkind and mean to others people of the world, by awakening and skeering the bejesus into them at night when they are sleeping.

4. She has never ever ever forgiven a writer she befriended back in the day, Charles Dickens for writing A Christmas Carol....ghosts her rear end, he stole her gig story and turned them into ghosts.

AS if you needed any other to add to your already uber creative skills, welp, I just think about's all yours lovey. Your friend and staunch supporter... @grammakaye on twitter who also attempts to blog