SKINNY, LONG FANGS, SET IN AN OTHERWISE TOOTH-BALD MOUTH

They flew wilkravitz over to Jerusalem to help with all the internet stuff. It's not that he's such an expert, but he has an instinctive feel for the medium and is willing to put in the necessary time. A few impulsive vampires went out to The Dead Sea and engaged in a communal blood letting. They drove to a few different sites along the shore and did the same thing. Was is enough to turn the waters red, like in the Bible? No, not even a pleasing shade of rose (I'd put an accent over the 'e' if I knew how to do so), though it did have a certain calming effect. The waters of that venerable sea touch Israel, The Palestinian authority and Jordan, effecting bathers of all persuations and political stripes. And although we're told never to ingest salt water, droplets of that briny soup trickled down gullets all over the Holy Land, dosing a multitude of souls with peaceful thoughts and goodwill..........Government officials from various facets of the multi-planed crystal that is Middle Eastern Politics began to notice.

Jean Michel, our medieval French knight vampire and a centuries long Judean resident, took Jonathon to meet another life-eater. They went into a cramped, narrow, stucco dwelling just off a marketplace in the Old City. Four flights up, they entered a small, dark, garret-like cell. Seated on a hard, little chair (probably once part of an old diningroom set) was a painfully thin 'old' man with a nimbus of white hair and fine-lined, vellum-like skin. He craddled an old, yellowed, human skull in his gnarled hands and crooned to it, as if to a baby.

The French knight cleared his throat. The old man heard. He spoke, directing his words to the relic in his lap....Look, Lazar. We have company!- he said. Then he made a series of tiny clicking noises with his tongue, causing small stumps of rather cheese colored candles to spark back to life, bathing the dark chamber in a flickering, dim, orange glow, illuminating ancient, rustic furnishings. In truth, they might have been back in the time of Rabbi Hillel, or Rabbi Jesus........I know why you are here, my Frankish friend---croaked the old man. You want me to take you places. And your companion, he smells like an Iberian to me, wants to go too.....Then he clapped his boney hands and laughed, revealing a set of skinny, long fangs set in an otherwise tooth-bald mouth....But he knew his business well and after a short discussion, setting the proper perameters, they began to shed their places in our part of creation and sublimate into another.......