Wednesday, January 30, 2013

What 'King' Rafe Does... THE VAMPIRE REVELS 1/31/13

I'm not gonna tell you who I am. You don't gotta know. I have narrated a lotta books. But some bitch who writes a big series don't like me and she got a well known 'medium' to shove some proverbial 'hot peppers' up my ass over here on the other side, so now I keep my mouth shut. Call me whatever you want. I do not care. But I'm gonna tell you what I want to tell you anyway.....

This is still about the first big reception. At 'King' Rafe's, I mean. He's crazy. Even for an old vampire, he's crazy. Just sits on his throne... makes little finger waves at people.... Sometimes he makes these fart noises with his mouth..... Sometimes he stands up, turns around, rearranges whatever he's wearin' and moons everybody. I like this thing he does where he lays there like a reeking corpse with great clumps of slimy, squirming earth worms fallin' out of his mouth. They crawl all over his clothes and legs and everything, til they get down on the floor. Then they turn into all kinds a fancy bracelets... emeralds.... diamonds.... blood opals..... Vampirinas and vamperinos scoop 'em up like pop-beads at a Mardi Gras booby-flashin' party. 

Sometimes he makes the headless musicians wander through the dancers, serenading the best. People pretend they like it. Nobody wants to offend 'King' Rafe. But he knows how they really feel. What's he care? I think he's the oldest vampire at this thing. A lot of the truly ancient ones never show up....not here.... not anywhere. Because, look, what are they gonna get out of it? The one them Philadelphia life-eaters call 'Papa' don't come. You think he needs 'magic?' You think he needs 'spells?' Spells are just a bunch a crap. Them what can do real magic just think. They give a look (or don't even give a look) and whoop! there it is! Who they think listen to them poems anyway? Magic words! Let 'em all go to hell.

One a the big humans had a heart attack. I think it was some politician. Not nobody you vote for. They don't come to these things. We get the ones them what gets voted in picks, like for special jobs, or liaisons to foreign countries, or business people what got billions a dollars and want everybody to love 'em. This one was one a them. Wandered down to the dungeons and saw some a them cattle-people. Just stood there, froze to the spot. Functionaries seen it. They got him outta there real fast. But he seen it. He seen it. One lone wolf type vampire who don't like a eat with them others, chewin' on a cryin' little white boy. Think he was white. I don't know. Just tell you in case details important, or something... Little white boy bleedin'... beggin'.... They supposed a give 'em somethin' a make it quiet-like. But don't always work with all of 'em. Blood drippin' down his neck...his belly... He blubberin'... hiccupin'..... You know how children get..... Lone wold type strokin' him...shushin' him..... brushin' his hair back.... lickin' his face..... It was pathetic. This was a 'noxious' vampire, a real 'noxious' one. I can guarantee you that. And that human guy saw the little boy die.

Functionaries bundle him back upstairs. But he can't go back to the party. No, they can't let him do that. Sure them humans know how night-folks eat. But seein' actors do it on TV is a lot different than seein' genuine teeth rip into genuine flesh... 'specially juvenile flesh. Some go through two or three at a time... Not all, but some.

Put the political guy in a 'mummy case.' It is not a real mummy case. Them vampires just call it that. It like a preservation box, so they can play with him whenever they want.  Use him for 'games' later. You know, like for the 'after party.' Revels got a lotta after parties.

But now he layin' there. Can't move. Can't do nothin'. But he can breathe. It like a thick egg shell. Air get in somehow. He cryin'. Oh, he cryin'. But inside surface a the case just suck it all up. Looks like a funny bowling pin, only wit' a punier head. Got a tick in there wit' him. That part was an accident. Trouble is case keep tick alive too. 

Vampires are OK. Some can be mostly nice. But even so.... they still vampires....

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please tell others about us. no, please...please... we really mean it. and if you're willing to help, could you maybe nominate me for a SHORTY AWARD? Just tweet this ~~~> I nominate #BLOGGER @wilkravitz for a SHORTY AWARD based on his stories and narratives ........ what? you want some supermarket coupon, 'mommy' blog to win, or some phony bastid 'celebrity' to swoop down three or four nights before closing and get they cattle are riled up?.... please... help me....please help me.....

LMAO with wendy (liebman)!: MY NOSE

LMAO with wendy (liebman)!: MY NOSE: Every three months for about a year I have felt this tingling at the tip of my nose. It lasts for about two days each time and then stops. ... Sometimes we all get little health scares. Maybe it's time to act...

Annie Tells More. Others Do Too..THE VAMPIRE REVELS 1/30/13

It's still me. It's Annie. And I'm still lookin' around this place with Larry. He's that other vampirino-kid dressed like a gay pilgrim, or something. I know. I know. I know. He's Little Lord Fauntleroy. Does that mean Little God Fauntleroy? 'Cause I don't think God would dress his kid like this. But Larry was OK, so I didn't talk about his outfit, or nothin',

I asked him if he was down in the dungeons with the rest of 'em when they killed the cattle-people. He said he was. I asked him what it tasted like. He knows I only been a vampirina for like two years, so he talked about mortal people's food. He said - You ever eat chopped steak, or chopped sirloin, or whatever it is?..... I said - Yeah, I remember that. We got it at a diner a couple times with onions and gravy. Sometimes the guy didn't cook it too good and the inside was all pink and fleshy. ..... Larry said the cattle-people were like that, 'cause they were so scared and sweaty. Real hot too. .... I said - Oh..... You know, I killed plenty a people. They tasted salty too. Once a big fat guy, I think he was diabetic, fell on the cement and started shakin'. He was eatin' a big Hersey bar. Sarah was bringin' me home from Gap Kids. They were open real late 'cause a Christmas and all. Guy was twitchin' and everything. I was hungry. Sarah knew I wanted to eat. And he must a been a real bastid, 'cause she said 'yeah.' So we rolled him in an alley and I did....Now, what did I want to tell you?.... Oh, yeah. He had a real sweet taste mixed with the salt taste, like a chocolate covered pretzel. He was good. That fat guy was real good. But he was still a bastid. Sarah said he was a numbers writer. Not just a plain one. Not just like an assistant numbers writer. He was a boss. He had like a zillion regular numbers writers workin' for him and sometimes he would get like a helper to punch some scared, old man right in his stomach, or even like in his doo-dads. And I know you can't do that to a kid, even a vampirino kid. So I can imagine what it's like if you do it to somebody's pop-pop.

Larry and I watched this lady. She was dressed like an old fashioned clown, with a big, crazy dress, all poofy, with decorations and a big clown thing around her neck. Her face had all this white paint on it, like a clown, with red lips. Just lookin' at her made me sick. If I had a whole lot a blood in my stomach, I'd a throwed up. Baylah came by with a big monkey sittin' on her back. Not her lady-back, her horse-back. I think it might a been a vampire monkey. You know, some night-folk think it's funny to do that to monkeys and gorillas and all. But we said 'hi' to it and it waved, so It was OK. I asked Baylah what kind of clown the lady was. She laughed and told us the lady wasn't no clown. She was supposed to be a queen. She was supposed to be Queen Elizabeth. N ow I seen a lady called Queen Elizabeth on TV once, but she didn't look like no clown. She looked like somebody's real old mom-mom. So I was all confused. 

One a the 'au natural' weird, naked people with their tongues ripped out offered me some kind a drink in a little, skinny glass what got a real thick bottom. It was one a them whiskey drinks. Tomas and Sarah couldn't see. They were far away talkin' to a guy from some foreign place. I don't know. He was just a regular mortal. I know, 'cause earlier, when I went passed him, he smelled like salami. So I took the drink. Larry took two of 'em. You know, vampires can drink whiskey drinks. Some vampires can drink a lot a whiskey drinks. It tasted like old wood with little knives in it. Larry laughed. I laughed too. Then we went to play with the big dog what got a face like people. I pulled its tail. But the dog with a people face didn't like it, 'cause he turned around and told me to go to hell.

See, if this was really a wedding, like a regular people wedding, this is where the mom would take the little girl (me) and rock her on her lap so she could rest a little. Some other lady, like an aunt, or a grown-up cousin would come over and brush a sweaty piece a my hair back. She'd smile at me and tell the mom one how adorable I am. 

But this ain't no real wedding and nobody did that.

Sarah's nice to me. Tomas is too. They yell sometimes, 'cause I can be a real, little bitch. Not so much anymore. But I used to bite a lot a toes off. I still think they love me... I guess... But nobody came over to rock me, or see where I was.

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please nominate me for a SHORTY AWARD..... Just tweet this ~~~> I nominate #BLOGGER @wilkravitz for a SHORTY AWARD based on his many narratives and stories......Thank you.... and as always, your COMMENTS are very much appreciated.

Tuesday, January 29, 2013

This Is What's Out There THE VAMPIRE REVELS 1/29/13

I don't get a chance to come through much, but it's me. It's Annie. So you better listen, or I'll bite your toes off. And I like them crunchy, little toe bones. You know it. 

They announced us. We had to line up. 
Them naked, tongueless bastids went up and down givin' everybody little glasses of real cold vodka. Sarah didn't want me to take one, but another vampire kid (I think his name is Larry) took one, so I did too. Tomas gave me a look. Edith tried to grab it from me, but I pinched her real hard and she left me have it. That 'Larry' was dressed like Little Lord Fauntleroy. Looked like a girl outfit to me. Tomas told me what it was. I said - who am I again?... Sarah said - Puck, a magical forest creature from stories. My favorite stories are Berenstain Bears and real old copies of Confidential Magazine. Don't look at me like that. It helps with my reading.

The hall where we waited was real nice, like what a king, or Steven Spielberg, or maybe one a the Kardashians would have. Had this gray stone floor, but with a long rug runnin' down it. Tomas said it came from a Moorish palace near where he used to live. He looked at it and looked at it. I thought he was gonna cry, but he didn't. The vampires in front of us were from France.... the REAL France. I never knew there was a real France. I thought French people were just in stories, or like poodles, or something. They didn't look at us much, just smoked and messed with their clothes. He was Jean Val Jean, from Les Miserables. She was Baby June from Gypsy. I didn't know that. Edith did. She told me. 

Don't ask me who said the names. I think it just came out a the walls. wilkravitz thought it might be a ghost. But I can smell ghost stink and this didn't have it. Maybe it was a real rich ghost? The first vampires to go in glided down to the throne where 'King' Rafe sat. They said like - Hi, how you doin'? Nice to see you..... Think they kissed his ring. Then they took seats along the wall. Band stopped playing that Carousel music (Edith told me) and switched to Handel's Messiah. That I knew from Christmas shows on television. I like Christmas. Tomas does Hanukah, but that's OK, 'cause he gives me presents too and that's the main thing.

Some of the other vampires had regular human beans with 'em. They were all dressed up to, but you could tell, because they smell like salami. At least to me they do. But nobody tried to eat 'em, or do funny stuff to them, 'cause they were real rich and important. Sarah said they ate in that buffet room. I'd eat in there too, if they'd let me. I don't care if I throw it up later. I like the way some a that stuff tastes. But throw-up tastes like mustard mixed with whiskey. And after that, I really, really, really have to bite somebody.

The best one I saw was this lady. She was all nude. Tomas says ladies are nude. Men are naked. you can tell he was born somewhere's else, 'cause American people wouldn't care. Her hair was real nice, though, all long and wavy. Sarah said she was Eve. And the fat, little baby she carried was Cain. The way she was holding him, he was always kissin' one a her boobies. Real wet kisses too. But, ewww, he wasn't no baby, not even a 'cherub' baby. ' 'Cause his face was all weird. No eyes. No nose. No ears. No nothin'. Just a mouth. I don't know where the hell they got him. But a whole lot a the other ones thought that 'Eve' lady was real fancy, because they kept bowin' to her. But not before 'King' Rafe. Him they bowed to first. 

When it was our turn, the voice that might a been a ghost voice said - El Gran Hidalgo de Andalucia, Don Tomas de Macabea and Consort, Donna Sarah. At first I didn't see Baylah, 'cause she wasn't with us. She was still gettin' ready. But then she comes over, in that long hall, I mean. And she was beautiful. A centaurina. She was a centaurina, a horse lady... a pony girl. No clothes. No costume. Nothing fake like that. This was magic. She did it with magic. I could never do it. Sometimes I can, but I make mistakes a lot. But she can. Baylah knows how. They say she even knew in Africa. She was a Princess. Not like a Disney one, or them English ones who can't chop off no heads, or nothin'. She was a real one. A Princess of  Timbuctu. Think she even had like a cheetah. Look, I don't know if she ever cut nobody's head off, but she could of....... Edith was introduced as 'The Esteemed Edith of The Pines' and wilkravitz was called 'The Esteemed William of Philadelphia.' That's  how they do when mortal people go in. ... They called Baylah something like 'Grand Bat-Malik' and then they said 'Baylah.' She clip-clopped in real dainty, just like a lady who is also a horse. And she had flowers in her tail and flowers in her hair and a little belt a flowers 'round her waist, where the pony part started.  When it was my turn, the ghost guy said 'The Honorable Miss Ann Marie.'..... I never knew my middle name was Marie. But it sounded real nice. And it made me feel real good.

But I still didn't know what my last name was....

Later, when everyone was dancing, I ran around with Larry, pinchin' people's asses. But I liked when they did The Stompanada. Sparks jumped up off the floor and everything. The ones that were bare foot put on these special, little dancin' shoes with metal heels and soles. They were gonna give me a pair, but I was embarrassed. I said - That's OK. I'll watch... And Larry watched with me. Baylah didn't need no special shoes. Her horse shoes were good enough. And she danced twice as good, 'cause she had four feet instead a two...

Doves flew around (I almost caught one). Cherubs darted in and out a the crowd, givin' people real fast kisses with their sharp, pointy tongues.

It was like a real party. It was like a wedding. And it was nice. It was real nice... And I felt special just for being there...

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please nominate me for a SHORTY AWARD... Tweet ---I nominate #BLOGGER @wilkravitz for a SHORTY AWARD based on his stories and narratives....thank you.

Monday, January 28, 2013

Supper Time THE VAMPIRE REVELS 1/28/13

Of course you understand the Philadelphia contingent is a very moral group. Not because they're from Philadelphia. It has to do with Tomas...... Tomas de Macabea, also known as Jonathon ben Macabi, a one thousand year old life eater sealed within his eighteen year old body..... So you know how good he looks in that fourteenth century Romeo outfit..... More like a naughty Romeo actually. Annie says he looks cute. She's a fresh kid. what could she be now, eight? Maybe eight tops. Only been a vampirina for eighteen months. And let me tell you, THAT was a big mistake. But I digress.  Mister Never-You-Mind ain't here tonight. Think he's at a jazz club in London. He likes jazz. Whispers in people's ears. The musicians, I mean. Talks scat talk. Makes 'em go fast. Makes 'em go slow. But they don't know it's him. Think they all geniuses or something. 

Tonight you got Zebulon, the thirteen year old disembodied spirit who got stoned to death two thousand years ago. But I ain't angry. If I was just dead, layin' in a box I might be angry, but this 'after-life' thing they got going on is all right. I see people gettin' dressed and everything. I see a lot a really good stuff too, like what's going on down in the dungeons. 

They got a big room. Stone floor. Stone walls. No light, just a few torches. All real rough and old. Think they used to rip the guts outta Scottish kilt guys in there. Ripped the guts outta lot a people. But tonight they're just killin' 'em. Drugged all the human beans. Put some powdery crap in the gruel. Call it gruel here, but I seen the cans. It's just Hormel beef stew. Like dog food for cattle-people. They eat it like zombies. Give 'em wooden spoons...old clay bowls. Just shovel it in, hunched over, silent. All a them wearin' 'birthday' suits.

Somebody drowns the lights. Must be magic, 'cause they ain't 'lectric like folks got now. Cattle-people moan a little, real quiet. They 're ascared a the dark. guess it comes from being locked up with vampires all around. 

Five heartbeats later, torches all lit again. Don't look no different. Bunch a naked people eatin' canned stew. Must be cold sittin' with their bare butts on them stones, but they don't know. The just eat. They don't see. Or they pretend not to see. Lot more people in there than there was before. But the new ones ain't eatin'. They're just sittin'. They're just lookin'. They CAN see. 

One of 'em gets up and goes over to a fat man. Squeezes in between the fat man and a stringy haired woman with a goiter. Don't see many a them these days. That's where one side a her neck look like she growin' another tittie, 'cept it ain't got no nipple on it. I know. I know. Thirteen year old disembodied spirit shouldn't talk like this. But I seen too much stuff all these years. What are you gonna do, kill me? 

'Fat Neck' got bulgy eyes too. It's mostly dark in there. Orange flickers all they got. She try pressin' close to some other lady. But other lady like a professional crazy woman. She wants a scrunch away, 'cept there ain't no room. So she just go 'Eww! Eww! and bats at her with her hands.

'Fat Neck' starts cryin'. Not really cryin'...keening like peasant women did at old time funerals. New naked one pressin' in on her leans closer. She sees he got teeth. Vampire teeth, I mean. She goes - No. No. No. But that powder stuff makes them all weak-like. She can't hardly talk. Then the new naked guy sticks his fangs up against her skin and bites down. Bottom teeth cut in too. She's floppin' around like a fish, tryin' to get away. but she's not goin' no where. Vampire guy bites out a chunk a flesh. Spits it out on the stone floor. Some vampires would just masticate it to get all the blood and then spit it out. But he don't do that. Got a be circulating blood, fresh blood. That's what he wants. 

'Fat Neck' disfigured real bad. Goiter ain't nothin' now. Vampire guy hug her all up and down. Sit her on his lap and go to town. He slice his teeth right into a vein. Might be an artery, but I don't know. She goes - Oh! Oh! Oh!. Few heartbeats later, the 'oh's' get real quiet. She twitches for a little bit. Then she dies. Other cattle-people make like they don't see, 'cause they're too scared to admit they do. Few start shittin'.  Some start babblin'. He push her down on the stones. Two heartbeats later, her dead body goes 'poof!' and crackles with a cold, blue flame. That makes 'em all go crazy. Start hollerin' and spittin'. Other naked vampires wake up then too. Start rippin' into folks. Some bite necks. Some bite stomachs. Some bite parts I know you don't want me talkin' 'bout. Blood all over. Cold, blue flames all over. Vampires don't burn, though. Only dead, cattle-folks go poof. 

Five minutes later flames go out. Cattle-folks bodies all gone. Vampires all greasy. Bloody too. Then they look at each other and laugh. One gets up and does a little dance. But he slips and falls in the dead cattle-folks grease smeared all over the floor. Clumsy vampirino smack his ass on them stones and goes - Uh oh!... Other vamperinos and vamperinas laugh some more. Then they get up and file out through the door. One goes - Ouch! I just cut my foot on a sharp piece of bone!..... And then they're gone. Big dungeon room's empty. Tongue-less functionaries shuffle in an' clean up. Rest a the cattle-folk locked up where we can't see, start moanin'. But nobody pays them no mind.

Half hour later them vampires all washed off and fixed up.

Then it's time to dance...

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please nominate me for a SHORTY AWARD. Just tweet this ~~~> I nominate #BLOGGER @wilkravitz for a SHORTY AWARD based on his stories and narratives...... And if you want to see something else that's good, click on this ALEXIOS ... thank you for these heartbeats of your time.

Saturday, January 26, 2013

Let The Grand Procession Begin! THE VAMPIRE REVELS 1/27/13

Everything smelled different. The functionaries lit all the torches. They had these special ones, like the wrought iron wall hands in the Jacque Renoir version of Beauty and the Beast. The whole place smelled like a whole lot a musk mixed with the roast beef carvery station at Golden Corral. Vampires love that meaty, bloody smell...that and green apple aroma candles from Target. I don't know where they got so many of them over here in England, but they did. 

Tomas sat us all down. Told us what to expect. Everybody gonna go through a big door... walk down them steps (can't fall. vampires never fall. humans make like a hobby out a it). Edith's real nervous. She got this nice pants suit from Lane Bryant and all. Look like a lady version of a Mad Men suit if it come in size sixteen and a half. Sarah want her to wear this gown she got. Velvet...black velvet...real slimming. Bought it special for Edith at a trunk show off Washington Square. Edith say she like thew pants suit, but Tomas say she gonna wear the velvet thing.

He got like a bad-boy Medici Prince look goin'. Got like a black leather vest thing...silver chain belt. Leotards all black too. Don't think they call 'em that, but I do not know the right word for 'em. This Mister Never-You-Mind. I the disembodied spirit narratin' for y'all tonight. Long time no see. How you all doin'? Tomas' joint come wit' a Eye-talian, Renaissance jock strap. Call it a cod-piece, 'cept you wear it on the outside.... like crotch jewelry  wit' them black sequins and all. Annie say he look like a Romeo-and-Juliet Adam Levine. Sarah say he do too. But he not sure who that is, 'cause you know, he out tom-catin' 'round when The Voice come on. 

The lady one, Sarah, look real mysteriously delicious too. She not old like a lot a them, but she do wanna fit in. That why she dress like Napoleon Bonaparte's sister. You know, that Pauline bitch what always posin' mos' naked in them 'oh-I-ain't-got-no-panties-under-dis-see-through-gown! old time, rich lady, hootchie outfit shit. ...(I know this hard to read. You gotta slide through it two or three times, 'fore you get the same rhythm I got)....

Finally got Edith to put on that black, velvet dress. She look like Morticia, if the Addams mansion next door to a Dairy Queen. I jus' tellin' the truth. You know how it is?

Annie wearin' a flesh color body suit what got green, silk leaves sewed on it. She like Puck. That not a dirty word. It a character from Shakespeare. All the way over, she doan wanna wear no body suit. But Tomas say - No. An' she listen to him, 'cause Papa not here an' she know Tomas gonna tell. 

wilkravitz got one a those skinny-boy- cut black suits, like what Jimmy Fallon wear on TV, wit' a white shirt and skinny black tie. Not the same black, leather bootkins as Tomas, but close enough. They look like a nice family, if nice families was vampires, blogger-guys and Piney-ladies. I can't say what Baylah got on, 'cause she say she gonna seal me in a bottle if I do. So you gotta wait for that one. 

Musicians startin' a play. Tomas say it The Carousel Waltz from the Broadway show, 'cept they do it with back in the day funny pianos and a whole bunch a fucked-up lookin' fiddles. Powdered wigs on they heads look like dead little Frenchie-dogs too. 

Got real dogs wanderin' 'round. Big ones. Nice ones. Harlequin Great Danes.... Irish Wolf Hounds.... One got like a human face, but I doan like to stare. 

Light all low, from them torches, I mean. Whole bunch a au natural functionaries standin' round like statues what got trays full a ice cold vodka. They got other kind a rot gut too, but vodka big wit' this crowd.

And it warm in there. Can't be them big fireplaces. They suck out the warm. Edith say they got lot a magic floatin' 'round this place. Maybe that how they do it?

Ooh! Look! 'King' Rafe just combusted on that big throne he got. Dressed like a Roman emperor... Like battle dress, not them baggy ghost outfits.. An' lemme tell you. This place really special. They do put on quite a show. Got smoky, gray doves flyin' up by them huge rafters..... Black and gold butterflies. Tomas say they gonna have cherubs too, like what we got back in Philadelphia, 'cept we only got four and here they gonna have more.

'Case you doan know, cherub a little sucker (toddler) what got 'accidentally' vampire-ized. Not supposed a happen, but when it do, it very, very, very sad.....

Cattle-people startin' a moan. Guess it slaughter time. Lot a night-folk like to eat 'fore they dance. You know, like pre-gamin' it. 'Cept cocktail weenies they got still movin'...

Come back tomorrow. I tell you more. And another thing, I'm gettin' 'mind tickled' by 'nother vampirino in ole, sweet home Chicago. Click on ALEXIOS and go see what that bot gotta say...

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please, if you're willing, nominate me for a SHORTY AWARD...just tweet this ~~~> I nominate #BLOGGER @wilkravitz for a SHORTY AWARD based on his stories and narratives..... much thanks and I mean it....

Friday, January 25, 2013

This and That about the 'Guests' ~~ The Vampire Revels 1/26/13

I believe some people arrived during the day, while we slept. Sealed vehicles brought them into a discreet underground passageway and silent functionaries led them to their rooms. Some of the 'food' was delivered then too. Edith said. She felt it. Trucks came in. She doesn't know how many. But they were plain, big, flat-panel vans. Tomas says there'll be at least three hundred night-folk in attendance. I don't know how often they feed. Some of the religious types might not feed at all while they're here. A few of the other types might be like real drunks, with blood, I mean. Who knows...not just with blood. They can have alcohol too, you know. This... is gonna be a real madhouse. 

It's funny thinking about the 'food' though. Baylah went down to look. Dungeons, like regular dungeons, that's where they keep them. Just cattle. That's all it is. Nobody talks. No eye contact. Very quiet. They have some kind of heat down there. Keep it pretty warm. Have to 'cause they're naked. She noticed that a few of them have symbols painted on their flanks. Asked one of the functionaries what they were for. He tried to mumble something. She couldn't understand what he was saying. They have their tongues cut out. Saw the little purple stump and everything. The suppliers in Eastern Europe drug them. That's what they say. 

I can hear an opera singer practicing. Tomas says it's a famous castrato. Sounds like a lady to me. You know, there was a vampire grapevine in the old days. Used to 'change' wealthy clerics and nobles and merchants...Anyone who could pay for it. Made 'em vampires. But most didn't survive long, though.. Nothing in the agreement 'bout killing them. New ones don't know shit. They're easy to kill. A few are still around. The ones that paid, I mean. 

Some of them want to go down into London for a 'day' trip. Tomas says we might stop there for a few nights when this is all over. Originally, it was supposed to be in London. But they changed it. Don't ask me. Vampires do that. They got a foursome playing mah-jong in this little parlor off the great hall. Three males and a female. Jabbering away to each other in, I don't know what it is, Finnish, Hungarian? I don't know. One smiled at me. But I quick flashed this pendant they gave me to wear and he looked away real contrite like... Should all be here in another night or two. Whales are fast, but not that fast. Imagine... all the oceans in the world are like big lakes to them. They swim all over. They see it all. Seventy percent, I mean. We see, and that's only if we travel a lot, maybe thirty percent. They must think we're just dumb shits. But I'd like to see a whale go to Mars though....

Don't see too many 'night-servants' anymore. I'm talking about the strange wraiths spun from ashes and moonbeams. Now it's the functionaries. Look like crazy humans to me. Annie likes to run up behind them and give a sharp pinch, right in the ass. But they just stand there like nothing happened and wait till she's done squeezing. She runs 'round the place with a little Romanian bastid named Carol. That's a boy. In Romania, that's a boy's name.

They got a real nice buffet set up in a 'hunt' room for the humans...people like Edith and me...guests...ones they're not gonna eat, I hope. Got Chinese stuff...Mexican stuff... seafood... roast beef...chicken... everything. You just walk up and serve yourself.  Can eat all night, if you like. Some of the vampires like to watch. They stand against the wall looking. Most wear modern clothes, more or less. A few wear things from their mortal life. We got too 'Robin Hoods.' I'll tell you that. And a handful of Celt-Iberians what won't wear nothin'. Edith calls the Robin Hoods 'Peter Pans.' Calls the Celt-Iberians 'nudists.'

They got musicians getting ready. Like a whole orchestra. Maybe it's a chamber orchestra. I don't know. Sarah went out to explore the hills. Say they got some big, feral cats out there, probably runaways from circuses, or private zoos. You read about them in the tabloids...'beasts of the moors' and all that.

Baylah calls her boyfriend like every forty five minutes. You know, the one with the house down the shore? Tomas says this whole place is gonna change, once everybody's here and they get it all set up. Staged 'fang fights.' Wagering. Drinking...blood and alcohol. Romantic entanglements. Music... dancing. He don't like it. Tomas, I mean. But he said we can watch when they kill the cattle-people from Eastern Europe. Might not all be from Eastern Europe. That's just where they gather them in for shipment. 

You know, some famous humans come here too? World leaders...everybody. They break up into groups...meet in little salons...discuss world problems...kick around solutions. Like that Bilderburg thing the Clintons go to. Only the Clintons don't come to this one. Not every time anyway...

I'm gonna go for a massage. There's a spa downstairs. Relax a little. Loosen up. Feel a little funny, though, 'cause the masseuses are all vampire girls. I seen 'em. I looked in when I walked by. They laugh. They roll their eyes..... I'd let 'em bite me a little bit, just a little bit. No more than that. Like a kiss, that's all. It's just like a kiss.

Edith laughs when I tell her. She goes - To Serve Man... it's...it's a COOKBOOK!!! 

She likes Rod Sterling. What can I tell you?  

The castrato opera guy is singin' again'. And the mah-jong people are clappin'...

Candlelight makes everything look like magic...

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thank you for visiting. please tweet - I nominate #BLOGGER @wilkravitz for a SHORTY AWARD based on his narratives and stories.... If you don't want to, I'll understand... I will... :0)

Billy Kravitz' vampire wonderland: MUGGS ROLLIN' OUT. JIMMY ROLLIN' IN

Billy Kravitz' vampire wonderland: MUGGS ROLLIN' OUT. JIMMY ROLLIN' IN: Three hundred and fifty thousand dollars in damages. They said we were lucky. I don't know who the day crew thought we were. A few of them k...This is from almost two years ago...when Mister Muggs, the accidentally created vampire chimp, was tearing up the exhibits at THE PHILADELPHIA ACADEMY OF NATURAL SCIENCES and humpin' all the stuffed cavemen in the diaramas. (hope we get it in a movie someday)... More VAMPIRE REVELS later tonight..... Please click onto this one. It's worth it... Thanks and as always, we take special delight in your COMMENTS...

THE CROWS FLY IN~~ The Vampire Revels 1/25/13

No one talks to 'King' Rafe, or addresses him in any way. They sublimate into the castle and are taken to suitable quarters by the night wraiths, the haunting beings spun from ashes and moonbeams. Most imagine them to be etherial extensions of the 'king,' but he doesn't say and they never do, so the whole thing is moot. Best not to look too closely during The Revels. That's not what they're all here for. 

They gave us quarters in the North Tower, the darkest spot. You see, the castle is shaped like a huge diamond, each corner occupying a different compass point. Best part is, no real windows. Just small, narrow slits originally constructed to accommodate archers. Smoked glass seals them now. And the beds...oh, you have to see the beds. Huge medieval fortresses brought over by the Normans. One slept in by The Conqueror, himself. All dark wood. 'Ebonized' I think they call it.  With gargoyles and allegorical allusions carved into the thick, lofty bedposts. Silk, quilted canopies, sent from a Chinese, court vampire seven hundred years ago, span the heights above firm, hand-stuffed, horse hair mattresses.  I can't tell how old they are. Still look pretty good. I know. I peeked under the sheets. No vampire sent them. They came from Williams-Sonoma.

An animated, preserved, headless corpse (female, I think) sat on a small slipper chair in the shadows, dressed in a dark, velvet gown. She was a harp player and regaled us with madrigals and mass songs plucked from the genuine, cat-gut strings of a large, free standing Celtic harp. Tomas remembered her from the old days... the really, really, really, really old days. I think she had her head back then. Fortunately, someone had seen fit to close the wound with coarse, black stitches. And I must say, the needle work was of a very high order. A large, walk-in fireplace held down the northernmost position. Jamb statues, filched from a Gothic cathedral, support a black, granite slab of a mantle, topped by the complete, articulated skeleton of a snarling wolf. Annie thought it beautiful. And I must say, her child-like, awe-struck face did reflect a certain predatory charm when viewed in the orange glow from the hearth.

Naturally, Tomas and Sarah slept there. The rest of us made do with smaller cells one floor below, each like a pie wedge sliced from the whole. The furnishings were similar, though. A bit scaled down, but still impressive. None had a headless musician. That part, I did not miss. 

Edith went around blessing the rooms. Pineys believe in that sort of thing. And if I'm going to be honest, I do too. So we said our good nights (dawn comes late this far north) and settled in for a deep, winter's nap, snug in our dark, and strangely commodious cocoons. There was a warm, glowing coal fire in a small, simple hearth across from the foot of my bed. That part I liked. So I burrowed under the luxurious tester (pulled up around my head) and drifted off. 

Was I frightened? A bit, though no one disturbed me but the ghosts....

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thank you for visiting. if you like, please help. please nominate me for a SHORTY AWARD. Just tweet this- I nominate #BLOGGER @wilkravitz for a SHORTY AWARD based on his narratives and stories......... Also, more links to intriguing writers tomorrow. PLEASE COMMENT......Good night...

Thursday, January 24, 2013

SOME WRITERS TO PERUSE ON A COLD WINTER NIGHT ~~ 1/24/13

This jus' a short subject between acts, but the subject matter is very major, indeed. What we got here are links to four really good web sites overseen by four entertaining and stimulating writers. Some, household names, but the others are certainly comin' up the walk.

So why don't y'all open the door and let 'em in?

Erin Morgenstern ....... Neil Gaiman ...... Joe Hill ...... Andrew Harding

Click on them names and say - howdy do~~~
Might put up some more later. But what we got now are real paranormal and just right.
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Wednesday, January 23, 2013

THEY CAME IN THE HUNDREDS.. The Vampire Revels 1/24/13

We traveled together, Tomas, Sarah, Baylah, Annie, Edith and I. Four vampires and two mortals. The others, the lesser night-folk backed out, intimidated by the arcane splendor of it all. They stayed home with the elferinos. I know not what Blackie and Minnie will do. We don't control them. They've always been independent. 

Some friend or relation of the still missing Grigori Usipov put a plane at our disposal, a sleek, tailored, high gloss jet. We embarked at Atlantic City. Atlantic City International Airport,I mean, Philadelphia's second major aerodrome. Actually, not to far from where The Hindenburg came down.  The Muscovite oligarch knew we, or most of us, were vampires and the plane was fitted out accordingly with opaque windows, sealed sleeping quarters and the like. Feeding occurred prior to take off, so that won't pose any problems. Doctor Franklin arranged for the culling of four deserving criminals, via his connections on the police force. Not the usual way these things are done. Not through 'the visions' and all, but time prevented that.

Now Marianne and Albion, the two most worldly elferinos, may cross over later. Yet that is not at all definite. The waif-like, juvenile night-folk are extremely fickle. They dance. They play. They cavort with cherubs and hob-nob with assorted sundry ghosties. She's French, or started out that way, you know. He is too. Different cultures... different norms.

You should have seen Tomas assembling his raiment. Fine, black, bootkins... three pair..... Handmade demin pants, dark as winter midnight... more than enough.... Deluxe, cotton, white, bespoke shirts... by the armful.  Hose, doublet and jerkin, for the Grand Procession. The medieval look, you know, complete with codpiece.  Yes, he thinks it a conceit, but he does go with the flow.  Sarah, originally more conservative, assembled niceties of her own. gleaned from private, midnight showings in the best Rittenhouse Square district boutiques. Baylah, our Beyonce look-alike, always had the best. I'll tell you about the others later.

Some vampires are traveling the traditional way, in union with the whales. They've done so since ... forever. Wait on a moonlit beach. Listen for the song. Shed all clothing. Walk through the surf. Swim toward the depths and meet the leviathan host. The vampire makes contact... a chaste, small bite, locking  on to the grand cetacean like a lamprey to a fish. Then an inky, gel-like substance seals them to the rubbery hide, blocking out the light. And away they go, tearing through the sea in the age-old symbiotic embrace. Tomas has done so. Sarah too, young as she is. But time was different (mortals in the mix, you know) so they made other plans.

And in his hidden 'castle', far away in the English Northlands, 'King' Rafe feels them approach. Not just our group, but each and every one. The air around him quickens. He slowly smiles, as he drifts through the heights, up amongst the huge, oaken beams of the old and vast Great Hall.

Then he mumbles things. Songs, or chants, I cannot tell. Edith, our mortal 'seer,' plants the visions in my mind with her powers. But they must be spells, for ever so slowly 'things' begin to condense out of the gloom. Tapestries grace the walls. And so many chairs, more like tall, straight thrones line the perimeter. The 'king' prepares for guests.

Vampire culture is so special...so rich...so rare... so enticing, even for a mortal guest, like me...

wilkravitz says good night, from his berth in a sleek, fast jet, high above the silvery waves of the cold Atlantic Sea...

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we'd very much appreciate it if you'd be willing to tweet the following--- I nominate @wilkravitz for a #blogger SHORTY AWARD based on his magical stories and narratives..... thank you and good night...  

Tuesday, January 22, 2013

A Venue for The Vampire Revels 1/22/13

England is a green land, set in the cool, North Sea, yet warmed by the last kiss of The Gulf Stream. Some say the warmth turns toward France, but night-folk necromancers employ their razor sharp skills to draw it on toward Albion's shores.  And their kind have been in residence since the ice sheets disappeared. At first it was a refuge, clean and pure.  Caribou grazed here. Hunters came after. And then the night grew bright, quickened by those-who-see, even in the dark.

They slept in barrows, long, earthen tombs, snug beneath the grass. Some called them Oberon. Indeed, Oberahni grew to be the name of their tribe. The first night-lord was Rafe.  And he is still among us. Ancients knew him as 'Sandman.' A bringer of dreams. Perhaps you've seen him, tall and slim, white as the moon, with hair like spider silk? For he is an albino..... the 'ghost' who lusts for blood.

And he haunts a noble house, surrounded by hills, up toward the land of the fabled Picts. Night-songs (spells) sung by manic witches serve to keep the curious away. Vast stone halls, warmed by mammoth hearths, echo in the dark, for none but Rafe abides there. Is he lonely? At times. But he goes out to 'dine.' This one knows no vows. This one has no creed. He resembles the 'nobles' (moral vampires) but he is not one of them. Rafe hungers and he eats..... dowagers and doormen..... ballerinas and boors.

Oh, he is not cruel, not purposely.  A torturer? No, at least not in any premeditated manner. Though some might hold another view. 

Minions, conjured up from ashes and moonbeams, make ready for 'the dance.' They rub iron filings into the flagstones in preparation for the 'Grand Promenade.' You may have heard Tomas refer to it as 'The Stampanada.' Flinty heels strike orange sparks from off the iron floor. Step-step-step-STOMP. Step-STOMP-step-STOMP... Quite hypnotic and stately in its own cold, regal way. And they dine on plane-loads of plump, sleek mortals, flown in by soulless crime lords from the cities to the east. At least those who are not 'nobles.'

Protected mortals serve other functions. They are magicians, or waiters, circulating through the crowd with icy draughts of vodka, or tiny aroma candles. Some are jugglers, others subjects for real magic... donkey-boys, or feather girls. Sadly, a few die in these displays. But what can I tell you? It's only a hobby.

And our Philadelphia night-folk draw near, most like wide-eyed farmers at the fair.

Oh, the sights you will see. Come back. Bring your friends. Expect to be tickled and amazed.

Could be you hold a little magic too?

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if you're willing to help, please nominate me for a SHORTY AWARD by tweeting this~~~> I nominate @wilkravitz for a #BLOGGER SHORTY AWARD based on his narratives and stories........Thank you very much.


Monday, January 21, 2013

Shhh, THE GRAND PROCESSION STARTS TOMORROW NIGHT... PREPARE YOURSELVES FOR THE VAMPIRE REVELS!

Billy Kravitz' vampire wonderland: AN UPDATE ON VAMPIRE SOCIETY~~:  THE VAMPIRE REVELS! a convocation of miraculous beings versed in necromancy of a most astonishing sort.... experience this teaser from a month ago, meant to sustain the midnight minions during BINGO BOY'S illustrious run (a good read for the 'somewhat' less magical romantics among you)... But now the time has come. The GREAT CLOCK, high atop the ancient tower of Philadelphia's City Hall strikes twelve... and the resonant tones reverberate through the icy bones of the winter-sick municipality........... We may reveal a little more tonight, or in the wee hours actually.....But tomorrow night, THE GRAND PROCESSION begins.

Bienvenido al nuesto mundo, chicas y chicos. Bienvenido al MUNDO VAMPIRISMO!!

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65TH BINGO BOY episode (like a film treatment) 1/21/13

BINGO BOY - post 65

So the new house at the shore was all filled up that night. Marge and Jimmy in their room. Ricky and Little Chrissie in theirs. And Marty and Big Chrissie in the den.  They put the two babies together in the big one's room. He babbled to the newborn for a while. Think the little one liked it. Probably never dawned on him that babies can vocalize like that. Must a learned something, right?

Everybody got along. Jimmy was contrite. Not that he was gonna give any of the money back right away, but he was contrite. Marty apologized like fifteen thousand times for tryin' to have Jimmy killed. But seein' as the would-be killer (Ricky) and the almost victim were now practically in-laws or something, I don't think all that crap mattered any more.

The house was all warm and cozy. You know, shore houses can be real quiet. They all got them double pane windows. You don't hear nothin'. Puppy slept by the babies. You know they got a puppy? Ain't one a the 'ghost' narrators told you that already? Curls up on the rug under the crib. Little one's in his porta-crib. Every once in a while the puppy pads over to see it he's all right too. 

I can hear Marty snorin'. I can hear Ricky snorin'. Jimmy snores. Girls snore too. Marge makes these little wee-wee-wee-wee-wee noises like The Three Stooges. Ricky snores like a sick, giant whale, or something. I could never share a room with him. It's a wonder he don't have sleep apnea. 

Jimmy's gonna buy a nice little bar and grill on Atlantic Avenue. Little place. Real snug. Gets all the local trade. Good steaks. Good burgers. Big sandwiches. Great drinks. Got these old, knotty pine walls and little, black vinyl booths. Seats maybe fifty people tops, not counting the bar, but a gold mine... a real gold mine. I can't tell you the name, 'cause it ain't a done deal yet. But if you want a get an idea, Google Robert's Place, which is also in Margate, New Jersey, 'cause they're really very much alike.

Marty's gonna take Jimmy up on that hot dog cart offer. Gonna talk to a guy 'bout settin' 'em up outside PARX CASINO in Bucks County. That could be a little gold mine too, even if he does give the house a cut. Probably see a lot a the old ladies from the bingo hall. You know, people gotta get their gamblin' fix..... Everybody likes a little jolt.

Now this story could a been a whole lot different. Ricky might a pulled the trigger, or slapped on another piece a duct tape. Jimmy would a kicked the bucket. Bingo hall might a stayed open. And Little Chrissie's grandma, Marge, might never a found love with a 'prisoner' down the basement. In case you come late to this, that's where they stashed him, Jimmy, I mean, when they didn't have guts enough to kill him.

But you know somethin'? Guts had nothing to do with it. We did. We did it all. It was us, the 'ghost' narrators. Some people call us 'guardian angels,'..... but me, I'm not that pretentious....

So you're gonna have to excuse me now. I wanna pass through the wall and drift 'round the town for a while. Winter nights are special 'round here... all chill and still and quiet. You can even hear the traffic lights click 'stop' and 'go.' You can even hear the surf.

And nobody heard me leave except the dog....

THE END... Bingo Boy.... a film treatment that reads like a novel. First installment  on either the 2nd or 3rd of November. Sixty five episodes...and now it's done. Thank you. 
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if you're willing to help, please nominate me for a SHORTY AWARD. Just tweet this ~~~~~> I nominate @wilkravitz for a SHORTY AWARD as #BLOGGER for his stories and tales.
Nighty-Night

Sunday, January 20, 2013

64TH BINGO BOY episode See what a SAMPLE MOVIE TREATMENT reads like 1/20/13

BINGO BOY - post 64

Big Chrissie sighed. She was tired. It's not easy taking care of a little baby. Her grandfather don't help. He call's it her 'Jew baby.' Tries to be slightly civilized when Marty comes by. And he does come by. Don't tell Muscles about it. Don't tell nobody. But one time he brought her this heavy gold chain he found when they cleaned out the house. Eighteen carat too. She sold it. He told her to. Went to some guy up by Five Points in the Northeast. You know the one. He advertises all over. Seems legit. A lot a people use him. Gave her fourteen hundred dollars for it too. That, plus the money Jimmy gave her helped for a while. Guess now she needs more. 

Little Chrissie says - How'd you find us?..... Not like she's angry. She's not surprised it happened. She just wants a know. Big Chrissie tells her about Too-Many-Cookies seein' the license plate number on the car Jimmy sent and how they traced 'em through that..... Little Chrissie just nods. You can't hide from nobody these days. Then she says - Get something..... The other Chrissie goes - Like what? What do they have in here, Jewish food?..... Little Chrissie goes- You gotta stop thinkin' like that. They got food, regular food. Get an omelet. Get home fries. Get a muffin, an English Muffin. That OK with you?..... Big Chrissie says that it is, so they order it. While they wait she says - Marty's over at the house now. Wow, what a place. Did I tell you that? They're talkin'. They're just talkin'. Your grandmother ain't there. I don't know where she is. Muscles wanted to come, but Marty says no. You know how Muscles is. He tries to deal himself into everything. Look, they got married couples who stay together after a murder attempt, so why not them? But Jimmy don't trust him. Says he ain't gonna give back no money. Not outright anyway. Says wait til they get something set up here, like a business, or a bar, or I don't know. Jimmy was sayin' a lot a stuff. You know how he goes when he talks real fast.

Then her food came, so they ate. Omelet had lox in it. She liked it. You know, lox ain't bad. Hell, they eat it all over Europe. They guzzle it...worse than here even. Know what it's like? It's like the 'ham' of fish. It's like them real rich, salty, fancy Italian hams, but it's fish. It's salmon. It's good. Oh, God, I miss my physical body. Yeah, they say we can conjure up most a the same feelings over here, but not me. Hamburger tastes like clay. Fried chicken tastes like bleech! They all say I ain't tryin'. Say I gotta work harder. Could be. Who knows? Look, I only been 'dead' seventeen days. Still countin' days. Some a them over here can't hardly remember what days are. But I can. Jeez, I ain't told you my name yet. Some 'ghost narrators' don't like to say. Some do. I like to... Hi, I'm Steve. Pleased to meet you. Fell at my aunt's house. Cracked my head on this pointy, metal finial she got at the bottom of her banister. Man, were they screamin'. Eh, I don't wanna talk about it.

Jimmy says he's gonna start givin' money back soon as he's ready. Did I tell you that? No, wait. I did...... Oh, God....Some people are just meant to be together. Fightin' don't mean nothin'. That's just how they exercise their lungs.

Big Chrissie says they're gonna sleep over at the house tonight. Gonna use the sofa bed in the den. She got a travel bed for her baby. Look how the bigger one likes the little one. He's lookin'. I don't think he knows it's a human. Wants a give it some oatmeal. I like babies. Maybe I'll work with them. Be a 'night guard,' or imaginary friend. I'd like that. .... (laughs) Yo, Mom, got an invisible forty six year old buddy named Steve. Deal wit' it.

The two moms are packin' everything up now. Lots a stuff when you got a kid..... But it's worth it. 

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if you're willing to help me, please tweet -- I nominate .@wilkravitz for a SHORTY AWARD as #BLOGGER for his ongoing tales. ...... thanks. appreciate your support.

Saturday, January 19, 2013

63RD BINGO BOY episode 1/19/13

Bingo Boy - 63

Marty read it again. They didn't even have milk for the cornflakes. He ate 'em right out of the box. Muscles snored away on the reclining chair in the family room. You know that furniture jobber guy didn't take everything. Some a the stuff is crap. That he left...... Marty says - A hot dog cart. He wants to buy me a hot dog cart. Lousy son-of-a-bitch should drop dead and croak. What's he mean by a hot dog cart? Says I should think about it.(sighs) I could a had two million dollars, at least. Maybe more. I - I - I lost track. Kept stuffin' it in those God damned boxes and saltin' it away. This is my worst nightmare.... Muscles goes - Not your wife leavin' you?.... Marty says - No..... Muscles goes - Not her takin' the kids?.... Marty doesn't answer. He just sits there. Muscles farts. You can hear a fart real good on a fake leather reclining chair. The vinyl acts like a membrane. It magnifies it, like a microphone, like an ear drum..... Muscles mumbles - Excuse me.... But Marty don't pay him no mind. Still, you can tell he's thinkin' about something. Then he goes - Hey, how much you think one a them chrome hot dog carts go for?..... But Muscles is already sleepin' again, so he gets out the telephone book and makes a few calls...

Meanwhile, at the shore, it's cold. It's cold, but it's sunny. The sky looks so blue, like out of a Rogers and Hammerstein musical. All the old ladies are out walkin' their yappy dogs. Breakfast joints got people. Breakfast joins always got people.  Think when you buy a house at the shore, you forget how to cook eggs. Forget how to toast bagels too. Little Chrissie got the Baby in his stroller. He likes gettin' air. She wheels him down to the beach. Not on the beach, just right up to the bulkhead where you can see it. Water looks like a lake, all blue and shiny. Sea Gulls glide 'round like special effects. You couldn't computer generate a nicer scene than this..... Little Chrissie leans forward and says - You want some nice hot oatmeal?...... Baby goes - Yeah, yeah, yeah..... She makes sure he's all tucked in. Makes sure the blanket's coverin' him up real good. Then she wheels him over to The Downbeach Deli for some a that special, homemade, maple syrup and brown sugar kind they got. Wants a get it with raisins, but the waitress says not to with a baby, 'cause raisins might make 'em choke. Everybody makes a fuss over him. They go - Boy! Get a load a that curly, blond hair!..... Little Chrissie goes - Thank you. Baby just smiles and makes 'bashful' eyes.

She's waitin' for somebody. Not Ricky. Ricky went to talk to the real estate people. That's where he's gonna work. Everything's startin' to fall into place. Little Chrissie looks at her watch. Nine thirty. Then another young mommy with a newborn baby comes in. At first she stands in the entrance lookin' around. You know it takes a little while for somebody's eyes to adjust after comin' in from all that sun. But Little Chrissie waves her over. The other one nods, walks in and sits down. The waitress gives 'em another 'set-up.' She pours some coffee.  They just look at it.  The second mommy, Big Chrissie looks tired. She looks nervous. 

At first they're both quiet. Newborn baby's sleeping. Older Baby's eatin'. Little Chrissie feeds him, but he wants a grab the spoon.

Then, all of a sudden, the heavy-set one starts to talk...

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Thursday, January 17, 2013

ALL THESE THINGS ARE TRUE

That thread known to you as BINGO BOY must abide for another night. Other voices seep through the ether now and their resonance is upon us. The night folk of 'The Vampire Wonderland' hunger for the stage.  The magic wants to come back. Crack open the door. Listen to the murmurs. For all these things are true...

First instantaneous truth~ As we sit here, cocooned in our own individual states of existence, a soul slides into the sea. A man falls over the edge, gasping incredulously, as his feet furiously try to find purchase, before plunging into the dark, cold, water. Night paints the firmament. And feathery clouds tickle the stars, as the ship drops over the edge. 

The solitary heartbeat falters, shocked by a death-like chill as the man goes ever deeper. After a time it will be over. Then he will be warm, or at least unaware of the cold. But the end comes slow down here. Ice preserves things. Bits of flesh take longer to die. And he lingers, suspended between the quick and the dead.

Ten heartbeats later, he is found. An intelligence rises up from the depths, piercing the blackness. It reaches out to him. Soft, graceful arms embrace his body, kissing it with many ardent mouths. His companion is large, long as a nightmare. Supple undulations draw him ever toward its face, a lethal countenance   more horrible than Medusa...

Monsters are real. We are food. Some people feign indifference. Others disbelief. But Kimodo Dragons devour sleeping babies. Cave bears crush hikers and microbes eat flesh. And the subject of this truth progresses toward the maw of a giant squid. He can't break free. There is no escape. No rescue will come. The razor sharp beak opens wide, freeing a tongue-like radula, eager to scrape him raw. 

The feet go in first. Then the legs, drawn in by the tongue that's not a tongue. He does not see it, but he feels it. Death, or the denial of it, can be so cruel. His back is abraded down to the bone, a live spare rib special for hungry calimari. And he wants to draw in water. He wants to drown. He wants to die. The pain is so great. The pressure so real. Yet the steel-like grip says 'no.' 

And the skin, just below his clavicle, feels the beak come down and  cut him through. Life, or something like it, lingers in his brain until the blood runs out to join the salty, womb-drink of the sea. But before that can happen, the beak comes down again to crush his skull...

The monster is satisfied, dropping down to rest in the abyss...

You think this scene has never, ever happened? Please.... don't be naive.....

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62ND BINGO BOY episode 1/17/13

Bingo Boy - post 62

Marty and Muscles sat in the kitchen of the neo-colonial tract house in Lower Bucks County. He'd have to get out soon. Muscles would too. Lawyers say the wife gets the house. Not really for her, but like as a trust for the kids. He ain't gonna fight it. He just wants this to be over. What do they call it...karma? Look, if the games weren't fixed, if he never hooked up with a creep, like that Jimmy, none of this would have happened. He'd a been poor all those years. That's a given. What talents does he have? Lemme tell you, money...and lack of money, changes everything.

Now there's maybe fifteen or twenty thousand dollars nobody knows about. It's all in hundreds and buried in a  Snapple Diet Lemon Iced Tea bottle, or jar, or whatever you call it. Marty won it at a casino. Not from gambling. Went to a promotional bingo night they had. Won the final game. Won the cover-all. Twenty thousand dollars. Should a paid taxes on it, but he didn't. Nobody ever said anything. Look, the way he fricasseed his books, you think they're gonna worry about that? Happened at The Hilton, in Atlantic City. Think they call it the Atlantic City Casino now. Gave him four 'flats' of hundred dollar bills, fifty to a stack with one a those paper bands around it. Makes a pile about two and a half, three inches high. He was so nervous gone out to the parking lot. Knew he was gonna get knifed, or robbed.  Waited in the lobby for some buzzed frat boys to leave and went with them. Didn't have far to go. Parked right in the corner closest the door. Ran across Pacific Avenue. Dodged a jitney (small ten to thirteen passenger bus). Jumped in. Sped off. Didn't even turn on the radio, or nothing. Just drove. Every time a car came near him, he thought - uh, oh, this is it..... You know, it's real easy hiding a body in the pines. If you're a 'regular' here, you know that. Got home late. Wife was sleeping. She let him go gambling by himself every once in a while. Street was all dark...all quiet. After, say, eleven, the dogs take their last dump and there ain't nobody out there. Slid into the driveway. Shut everything off. Fished for an empty iced tea bottle on the floor, in the back. Stuffed the bills in (had 'em, like a rock, in his left front pocket) screwed it shut. Went 'round the back and buried it right under the rhododendron bush. Lot a mulch there. Easy digging. Nobody saw, 'cept a spider and a petrified, little vole. And what are they gonna do about it.

Marty wants to go outside and get it. Maybe later. Muscles always goes out, like to wander around the CVS, or the Shoprite. What can I tell you? It's cheap entertainment. Usually drives over around three, or three thirty. Trouble is all the trees are bare. Not so private out there now. ..... Eh, he'd see.

Had a dream last night (Marty, I mean) about the time he 'befriended' a praying mantis on the front patio. Nice one. Seemed smart. Real easy going for a bug. Relaxed like. Lived in a planter. Ate aphids off begonias. Sometimes Marty'd turn the hose on a real, tiny, little trickle. Green little thing would turn up it's head and drink it. You know they open and close their 'beak' more like a bird than an ant. Had a teeny-weenie yellow, pointy tongue too. Named her Emerald. Figured she was a woman praying mantis, 'cause they always kill the husband. Looked big too. The husbands are scrawny. One time he gave her a piece a popcorn shrimp from KFC. She looked at it funny (You know, you get to know an animal after a while), but she took it. Marty liked Emerald. He really did. He liked her a lot. Gave her a little, tiny piece of corned beef once. She ate that too.... Now in real life, a bird got her, a big bird, like a crow, or something. He saw it happen. And he couldn't stop it. Dream ends same way, 'cept she's yellin'. She's screaming. He could hear it. He could hear her go - Help me! Oh, God! Please help me!..... And he just stands there going - Noooo! Noooo! Noooo!....... Then it ends.

Chinese people say praying mantis' are good luck. He should a been more careful.

But later, when Muscles got back from the Shoprite, he brought the mail in. Mailman comes so God damned late. Most of it was junk, or pizza joint menus, but there was a letter, a plain, old fashioned letter... and it was from Jimmy. The two a them read it and re-read it like about a dozen times. Postmarked from Philly. That's where they mailed it. Ricky and Little Chrissie drove all the way in. That way he couldn't trace 'em. Stopped at a discount shoe store in Mayfair for maybe ten minutes and drove all the way back. No, wait. They stopped at Mister Bill's for these real juicy, grilled burgers. I forgot. Brought some a the big 'black and white' cookies back for Marge and Jimmy too. Mister Bill's is like a drive-in, right in the Pines, 'cept it's a regular diner place too. Nobody eats out on the tables now, not in the wintertime. 

Look, I'm starting to lose my ectoplasmic coherence. disembodied, spirit narrators get that way sometime. So let me stop and go round up some ghost hamburgers over here on my side. 

We'll tell you what they wrote about the next time....

Nitey-night......

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