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Franklin said - What do the words mean?...
Jonathon said - What do they always mean? Love, altruism, acceptance, complete creation, or some variation there of. The question isn't what the words mean, but whether people want to listen...
The old patriot rang and the 'wench' robot came in with more chilled vodka. She refilled the old, collectible goblets (from Jefferson's estate, if you remember), smiled and left. Doctor Franklin nodded to her, just as if she had an actual soul.... Jonathon watched and said - Do you think she knows what's going on? Do you think it matters to her, or is she just an appliance? What does she feel like? Does she feel like real skin? And there's another problem. What are we going to do when robots really do have souls?
When will that happen? - asked the Doctor.... When they feel enough to ask if they do. When they miss other robots who've gone before. When they 'worry' about their own version of mortality. They'll know and so will we - said the vampire.... Then he continued - You know, I don't 'get' atheists. I mean I can understand how some people might visualize that on a mathematical level, but they all die so fast. Pffft! they're gone and their children and their grandchildren and their great grandchildren after them. Like onion skin, every mortal generation is like this, delicate layer of onion skin. You know how most 'worker' caste bees and ants live only one summer? How are they any different? Sometimes I have trouble remembering regular, mortal people I knew two or three hundred years ago. Do they really believe that's all there is? I mean what's the good of being Einstein, or Leonardo Da Vinci if save for a microscopic instant, for all eternity, you're oblivious and not just oblivious about 'being' Einstein or Leonardo Da Vinci... oblivious about everything? You're not dead. There is no death. There's just whatever mortal life is and then BLIP!... nothing..... Well, I don't believe that. You know what I think?
What? - said Doctor Franklin.
I think - said the vampire, that if preternatural creatures like us can exist... what else exists? I've told you about my visitations?
Yep - said Franklin, many times.... And he chuckled....
Stop it. Don't be like that - said the vampire. What about you and your 'Grand Armonica?' What about harmonics and your method of self-preservation?....
Mine isn't 'magic.' Mine is real. Mine is science - said the Doctor.
Well, there's something I didn't tell you, about what those children in Massachusetts said - mumbled Jonathon.....
What? - asked the Doctor.
The words were directed at me. Just me - said the vampire.....
May I tell you that everyone who's seen the You Tube post and everyone here who's seen it too feels the same way? - added Franklin...
Really? - asked Jonathon....
The old reprobate merely nodded...
Then the next few weeks should be very interesting - said the vampire.....
After that, they just sat there for a bit, each lost in his own thoughts, deep within the vast investigative, experimental facility that is 'The Anti-Enchantment Bureau.'
Finally, Franklin said - Do you think one of us should tell a bloody, frightening story?
Why? - said the vampire.....
No reason. Just that Luna (one of his vampire, physician, assistants) says gory blog posts get more traffic. She said you told her - said The Doctor.
Maybe I did - whispered Jonathon. You want to hear one?
Doctor Franklin shrugged.....
All right. How's this?... Once I saw a vampire, no, not a vampire, an early Russian Czar, sharpen the rim of an old, round spoon with a special stone. Then he used it to scoop out globular, bloody, gobbets of flesh from serf-girls asses. Some 'donated' one. Some 'donated' three. Each was at least an inch and a half across. Went down the line till he had a nice bowl full. A silver bowl, it was. Maybe pewter. It was tarnished. Hard to tell. Then he stomped down a stone passageway with one rough, cold cell at it's terminus. Inside was a shivering, dirty, bearded man, dressed only in the most ragged tatters. He hobbled over to the bars (due to his heavy, iron shackles and restraints) where he ooh'ed and ahh'ed at the red, soupy balls of raw meat.... The czar said - Your dinner, dog. A special feast. Enjoy it..... The incredulous, feral bastard squealed with delight, as the brimming feast was pushed through the bars by the czar's own boot.
The coterie of toadies who accompanied the brutal ruler wherever he went watched approvingly, as the starving prisoner, slurped up and chewed each dripping mouthful, till his beard and the whole front of his rib cage was wet, red and greasy.... A fitting 'last meal' before facing death by impalement at cock's crow.
And the mutilated serf-girls, since no longer suitable for the czar's 'hospitality homes,' were chopped into steaks, cutlets and knuckles and fed to the pigs, though their heads were carefully pickled and coiffed before being considerately returned to their families.
That's how it was - said the vampire....
Franklin raised his glass in appreciation.
Jonathon said - You know I wanted to discuss politics and the presidential election too, tonight?
No time - said Franklin. I have to go exercise the female centaurina. Maybe next time?
Just my luck! - said the vampire.....
But Billy, who channeled all this and typed it up, posted a real nice and very fitting political classic for you to see.
Thank you and good night from Vampire Wonderland... brought to you by STOPETTE...
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