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GOT TO STEER YOU TOWARDS A GREAT SITE BEFORE WE GET STARTED. JUST STUMBLED ON IT ACCIDENTALLY...FOR REAL....best entertainment industry news and gossip... Look for http://www.lalahhathaway.com/ it's the 411 for the week or the pink room or sommething like that, but search for it. You'll quickly become addicted. Speaking of addictions.....back to our pixilated creatures.
The guys Moonves sent out finally broke through the brick and stone wall, freeing the recently mutilated vampirina and the network head's young cousin. Both creatures were pulled from the tiny niche, laid on stretchers and spirited away in a large, unmarked, dark as midnight SUV... Real 'Men In Black' stuff. But as they raced through the Jerusalem Hills, another vehicle pulled up right behind them. Renate, Jonathon and the young, nubile 'slightly-more-than-elf' vampirina, Lailah were crowded into the backseat of a 2006 Volvo S60. Jonathon wanted to ride up front, but the driver (just some dude from Resurrected John Lennon's seventyfirst birthday party... I think he was an old studio musician) had the front seat all crapped up with take out trash from Sbarro Pizza, so they were forced to squeeze in back. Why didn't they just sublimate? Well, they couldn't. You know how vampires can imbibe alcohol, right? They were coming from a party filled with 60's era rockers. So what do you think they were doing there? Drugs don't do anything to them. All they had was the 'Jack.' And Jonathon couldn't wait. Sarah was in trouble (she's the recently mulitated vampirina in the SUV). True, he cannot read her every thought. But certain things just break through. So he grabbed his vampiric 'grandmother' (Renate....She's a Cher look-alike) and their newborn charge, Lailah (think fifteen year old Natalie Portman) and bolted outta there. Yoko was a bit miffed. She likes exotic guests. but when Yusef Islam (the artist formerly known as Cat Stevens) asked her to join him in a medley from Tea For The Tillerman, she was fine, in spirit, if not in voice.
They two vehicle motorcade, accompanied by armored Humvees chock filled with I.D.F. personnel sped through the desert til they came to a narrow, unmarked turn off. They gunned down the engines and quietly made their way along a private drive, coming to a stop before a flat, modern structure, quite small on the surface, but much more commodious underground. A squadron of ninja-looking functionaries raced out to assist them. The injured vampirina and the Moonves cousin were immediately placed in a sterile, subterranean laboratory. Each attached to banks of cutting edge equipment. The other three enchanted personages unassumingly filed in, finnding places behind the scientific task force. Lailah whispered - My stomach hurts.......Renate shushed her, biting into her own forefinger and giving the newborn a drop or two of her forty thousand year old, restorative blood. It seemed to do the trick. The young one softly burped and was quiet. Jonathon just stood there looking worried and muttering old Sephardic Orthodox prayers.
About two heartbeats later, a huge, flat panel video apparatus crackled and came to life. The white coat brigade went silent. All eyes turned toward the screen. Jonathon gasped, as an immense, wispy haired image of Doctor Franklin ( the quite human, but artificially preserved, 300 plus year old, Founding Father and master of arcane sciences) projected into the room.
Good, good, good - said the old reprobate, - I'm glad to see we have everything we need, especially a significant supply of 'night folk' blood.
Then he focused in on our Andalucian vampirino..... Well, my boy, I assume you're here to help?
Jonathon nodded........ And the venerable matriarch too? - he said.
Renate said something in ancient Vahmpeerigo and the aged, worldly gentleman immediately picked it up...... Then he sniffed, hummed a little tune and proceeded to spin around on his little electric scooter.
Go! Go! Go! - the Doctor said. We don't have time. Get to it! Get to it! Get to it!........
And over his shoulder loomed the figure of the all powerful network president. Moonves leaned in, scowled at those assembled and growled - Don't... lose... my... cousin!
Everyone in the secret desert installation silently nodded, even the vampires. For no one wanted to cross this man.......
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
join in our pixilated conversation at http://Twitter.com/wilkravitz/ and don't forget to check out our link list after the 10/3 post. ADIOS AMIGOS!!!.....and please excuse my accidental double consonants...it's a nervous twitch, OK!?!
The guys Moonves sent out finally broke through the brick and stone wall, freeing the recently mutilated vampirina and the network head's young cousin. Both creatures were pulled from the tiny niche, laid on stretchers and spirited away in a large, unmarked, dark as midnight SUV... Real 'Men In Black' stuff. But as they raced through the Jerusalem Hills, another vehicle pulled up right behind them. Renate, Jonathon and the young, nubile 'slightly-more-than-elf' vampirina, Lailah were crowded into the backseat of a 2006 Volvo S60. Jonathon wanted to ride up front, but the driver (just some dude from Resurrected John Lennon's seventyfirst birthday party... I think he was an old studio musician) had the front seat all crapped up with take out trash from Sbarro Pizza, so they were forced to squeeze in back. Why didn't they just sublimate? Well, they couldn't. You know how vampires can imbibe alcohol, right? They were coming from a party filled with 60's era rockers. So what do you think they were doing there? Drugs don't do anything to them. All they had was the 'Jack.' And Jonathon couldn't wait. Sarah was in trouble (she's the recently mulitated vampirina in the SUV). True, he cannot read her every thought. But certain things just break through. So he grabbed his vampiric 'grandmother' (Renate....She's a Cher look-alike) and their newborn charge, Lailah (think fifteen year old Natalie Portman) and bolted outta there. Yoko was a bit miffed. She likes exotic guests. but when Yusef Islam (the artist formerly known as Cat Stevens) asked her to join him in a medley from Tea For The Tillerman, she was fine, in spirit, if not in voice.
They two vehicle motorcade, accompanied by armored Humvees chock filled with I.D.F. personnel sped through the desert til they came to a narrow, unmarked turn off. They gunned down the engines and quietly made their way along a private drive, coming to a stop before a flat, modern structure, quite small on the surface, but much more commodious underground. A squadron of ninja-looking functionaries raced out to assist them. The injured vampirina and the Moonves cousin were immediately placed in a sterile, subterranean laboratory. Each attached to banks of cutting edge equipment. The other three enchanted personages unassumingly filed in, finnding places behind the scientific task force. Lailah whispered - My stomach hurts.......Renate shushed her, biting into her own forefinger and giving the newborn a drop or two of her forty thousand year old, restorative blood. It seemed to do the trick. The young one softly burped and was quiet. Jonathon just stood there looking worried and muttering old Sephardic Orthodox prayers.
About two heartbeats later, a huge, flat panel video apparatus crackled and came to life. The white coat brigade went silent. All eyes turned toward the screen. Jonathon gasped, as an immense, wispy haired image of Doctor Franklin ( the quite human, but artificially preserved, 300 plus year old, Founding Father and master of arcane sciences) projected into the room.
Good, good, good - said the old reprobate, - I'm glad to see we have everything we need, especially a significant supply of 'night folk' blood.
Then he focused in on our Andalucian vampirino..... Well, my boy, I assume you're here to help?
Jonathon nodded........ And the venerable matriarch too? - he said.
Renate said something in ancient Vahmpeerigo and the aged, worldly gentleman immediately picked it up...... Then he sniffed, hummed a little tune and proceeded to spin around on his little electric scooter.
Go! Go! Go! - the Doctor said. We don't have time. Get to it! Get to it! Get to it!........
And over his shoulder loomed the figure of the all powerful network president. Moonves leaned in, scowled at those assembled and growled - Don't... lose... my... cousin!
Everyone in the secret desert installation silently nodded, even the vampires. For no one wanted to cross this man.......
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
join in our pixilated conversation at http://Twitter.com/wilkravitz/ and don't forget to check out our link list after the 10/3 post. ADIOS AMIGOS!!!.....and please excuse my accidental double consonants...it's a nervous twitch, OK!?!
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