Friday, July 8, 2016

VAMPIRE WONDERLAND goes a little ~> Meat Loaf: You Took The Words (Hard Rock Live, 1998)




Look, before I start on that 'bringing Jonathon and the others back' thing, there's something I want to do - said the twenty eight thousand year old, young Richard Gere look alike, vampire entity, known as 'Papa.'... Billy sat across from him in the den/family room shaking his leg. You know how people make their knee vibrate when they get nervous and impatient? Well, Billy is the champ. They once wanted him for The Olympics. There was gonna be this event... all new categories... international big league nose picking... chicken wing eating contests... You know... Play to the youth market. But then that big guy with the unknown foreign name, shot the dude jonesin' for it and The Olympics almost went all Scream Queens on us. Look, they have girls running around snapping kerchiefs in the air. What do you expect? And once some people doing a dance in a giant, hollow, crystal bull got steamed alive under the hot, opening ceremony, lights. Somebody wrote a book about it all --- SECRETS OF THE MODERN OLYMPICS. The PARKS AND RECREATION team wants a do a show about it.... But I digress.

What Papa wants to do is make a female friend for Sarah. She's quiet and always defers to Jonathon. Papa doesn't like that. After all, his mother is the Lady Renate. You know, all them 'Lilith' legends are based on her. Not Fraser's wife, Lilith, I mean the 'real' Lilith.... who herself is a legend or a metaphor or some biblical thing.

Papa wants to wander the streets. Says he'll know the girl when he sees her. Billy goes - You mean you're just gonna pick her out and turn her into a vampire? Don't you take oaths? Don't you have rules? Don't you have no religion?


I was born before religion, at least religion as you know it. I don't need no stinkin' rules. I don't need no words either. I can put my words right into your head. BOOM, you feel that? ..... Billy shot up off the chair, cracked his head on the ceiling and crashed down on the floor between the chair and the cocktail table. But don't worry. Papa 'healed' him and he never even knew it. Twenty eight thousand year old entities can do that.

Where WAS I?! What did I just see? What HAPPENED to me?! What WAS that?! - shrieked Billy, as he climbed back into the sleek, leather, club chair, shaken, but alright....

Papa lowered his eyes, caught him with a laser-like gaze and said -  Just a taste of my powers. Now you know. Don't worry. You'll have your night-folk friends back. They are my spawn. I won't forsake them. What kind of progenitor do you think I am? Oh, and what you experienced was a moonlit mastodon hunt and the human sacrifice 'thanks offering' performed after...

That little boy, he had to die? You sewed him up into the severed mastodon head while he was still alive? - whispered Billy...

Look, I didn't say we had 'no' religion, just none you'd recognize. Don't judge me, mortal. Don't judge me - went Papa.

And Billy shut up....

Papa got up, went into the cool, linear, stone, steel kitchen and poured himself an icy vodka. Then he put the glass in the sink and left.... Billy sat there in the always perfectly 'staged' townhouse, bathed in the narrow beam of an overhead pin light. Save for a few other accent lights positioned about the residence the place was dark. Edith, their witchy-woman housekeeper wasn't there, yet everything remained coherent. The house 'cooperated' with itself, whether through her magic, or some other source he didn't know.

Look, I'm just a disembodied, spirit narrator and not even an important 'named' one, like you have around here. But Papa did find a young girl and he did bring her over into that 'vampire' thing. She took the words right into her mouth. It must have been when he was 'kissing' her. And not just her mouth, for he 'kissed' her all over, high up on the deserted plain of Belmont Plateau, in the middle of the manicured, urban wood, known as Fairmount Park, and only the dryads saw.

Thus was Cressida made... and she had secrets of her own...

<more next time>

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