A VAMPIRE KILLING ON THE WAY BACK TO THE ANTI-ENCHANTMENT-BUREAU

They never saw Johnny-Jump-Up. Papa felt some tingles. Knew he was down by the river, but not all ghouls are easy to home in on. Zombie hunts give vampires fits. They're not good with all the 'noxious' types, even noxious vampires. The ones we deal with are very cultivated and refined. Call themselves 'noble.' Not necessarily like Downton abbey noble. More like them inert gases they got on the periodic table, though some do tend to be a little gentrified. 


They driver took 'em all back to the Bureau. Stopped to pick up Luna too. The other vampires said she stunk from fake maple syrup. Annie said it reminded her of decomposing bodies. You know, when they get all gooey and all? Tomas said - Don't be rude..... So she shut up, but made fart noises with her mouth. They just ignored her. 


Then Conrad all of a sudden goes berserk. Starts yellin' - Stop the car! Stop the car! I gotta get out! I gotta get out! I gotta kill somebody! I gotta KILL SOMEBODY!!!........... Sarah said - How do you know?............... But he was foamin' at the mouth by then and his eyes were rollin' back in his head. Tomas said he must a had a 'vision.' It can get real visceral like that, especially in a new-born. So the driver slammed on the brakes.


Conrad bolts from the limo and goes skipping, or limping, or galloping down the street, 'cause like his leg was asleep. That can happen to vampires too, you know. And you gotta expect it when they're packed into a car real tight like that. Annie wants a go with him, but Tomas holds her back. He says - No, let him face it on his own. 


So he runs down Broad Street and swerves into Lombard or Pine or some place like that. Driver says - Should I wait?.......... None of the vampires answer, til finally Doctor Franklin exhales and says - No, take us home..... He never liked Conrad, anyway. 


Now for two days and two nights, our former, almost-monk been havin' visions of a real bad, old man what lives up on the forth floor of a little, red brick apartment building. So his instincts take over and he FINDS the place. Even 'sees' the number, four-fifteen. Any other vampire would a just levitated up and sublimated through the window. Windows is easier than walls. Them rattly, old wood windows best of all.  But Conrad don't know that. He like what you might call a real dope. So he go in the little lobby, lookin' for somebody to help him. There was a doorman, but he settin' on a old, mohair love seat watchin' reruns a Million Dollar Listing, L.A. on some cheap, nineteen inch flat screen they got on a little table. He waitin' for Josh (Altman) a punch Madison real hard. That what he want. So Conrad's intrusion got him all disgusted. He say - Yes? What can I do for you, you crazy, lookin', son-of-a-bitch?............ Conrad say - Lemme into 415! You gotta lemme into 415! An' all the while he jumpin' from foot to foot like he gotta take a piss......... Doorman say - Yeah? Well, go to hell, you God-damn bastid, 'cause I ain't gonna do it!......... He know everybody what live there. And he know alls they mush up wit'. An' he doan know Conrad. So Conrad (by now all panicky) starts yellin' - Oh, God! Oh, God!......... And he grabs the guys head and twists it all the way 'round, til it POP off, jus' like a clown in a metal crank box, 'cept without no Pop Go the Weasel.......... Old drunk dozin' in a corner go - Shit, now you gonna have to go clean up that mess....... But Conrad don't answer him. He take a whole mess a keys off the headless Doorman's body. (they was in his pocket) Drunk say - You doan need no keys. It push button...... Then he get hisself up and stumble over. Nine seconds later Conrad goin' up in a 'monia smellin', old elevator. 'Fore the door close he go - Thank you..... and tip the guy five bucks.


Now Annie his 'mama.' She feel somethin'. She hear somethin'. So she start laughin' and laughin' and laughin' til Luna haul off and smack her in the face.....


Old bastid in 415 doan know what comin'. He layin' in bed, listening to George Noury talk 'bout aliens and ghostises and folks what got theyselves spontaneous combusted. He like that radio program. Hate all the commercials, but he like it anyway.


An' now he gonna learn 'bout all that paranormal crap first hand.......


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RIDING AROUND IN A BIG, BLACK STRETCH LIMO WITH DOCTOR FRANKLIN AND SOME A THE VAMPIRES

Sometimes they do that, especially on hot summer nights. Doctor Franklin calls out a car, a BIG car, a stretch limo. Sorry 'bout not typin' out the word in full, but I cannot spell it that way, OK? They like the old, black one. Blends right into the shadows. 

Tomas thinks car air conditioning is the best. He likes when they crank it all the way up. Relaxes him. Sarah don't care and Luna ain't with 'em. She went out for pancakes with a nurse she friendly wit'. Not that she eat 'em. But, you know, you can mash up a plate a real wet, syrupy pancakes real good and waitress won't even know. She think like maybe you just a light eater or something. 'Sides, most of 'em workin' where they go is  reconstituted 'X' jailbirds and they don't care none anyway. 

Doctor Franklin say they lookin' for Johnny- Jump- Up, but he don't kill folks on a regular schedule (like lunar-sync vampires) so they might as well be lookin' for Judge Crater (Google him). I do not know the name of the driver. He jus' some guy from the bureau. And it a very big bureau..... I wonder if they call pint sized government thingies 'nightstands'? ....... Annie make 'em stop at The Four Seasons Hotel. She like a little shop they got in there, 'cause they sell coloring books. Wanna get herself a Kim Kardashian one, 'cause her ass look like big hearts in all them pictures and Annie like hearts.

Conrad wanna know how come that Russian vampire get a take a piss. He thought life-eaters don't gotta do that no more. Papa say they usually  do not. But if they want to, like for old times sake, they can conjure up a whole lot a piss, only it come out like blood, 'stead a rancid Windex. Tomas (you know how fussy he is) say he NEVER piss, 'cause no matter what you do, it gonna leave stains on you clothes. Sarah say, far as she know, lady vampires never piss too. And they only carry Kotex 'cause it look normal. But not like if you a old lady vampire, 'cause then it jus' gonna look crazy.

Neanderthal guy sittin' on the jump seat. He throwin' peanuts at the hookers. Mus' be somethin' they do back in Bedrock. I doan know who gave him all them peanuts. Annie say he get 'em from the mini-bar. Damn..... mus' think like a elephant stayin' in that room.

Tomas say Johnny-Jump-Up once partial to a crypt in Laurel Hill Cemetery. So they snake through a bunch a tiny, little side streets til they get there. Go through a lot a rough places too. Seed a guy chasin' a fat, sloppy bastid in tightie-whities 'cross a whole block a hot, black, tar, row house roof-tops. Dogs barkin'. Women screamin'. An' it late. It real late. Guy had a gun too. But it jus' a bee-bee gun. Fat guy bleedin' a little from part a his left butt-cheek, yet I do not think the wound was in any way life threatening. Still, you never know.

Annie start cryin' how she wanna bee-bee gun too. So Papa go VOOM! out the window and fly up in a air. Grab it (the gun, I mean) right out the hand a the rough guy. Dog's barkin'. Women clappin'. Some ice-cream truck showed up, but I don't know where it came from. Maybe it was water-ice... Then he go VOOM! back in a car. Annie so happy! She do like her toys. Wanna see if she can hit a few crack-heads and homeless guys. But Tomas tell her that would be a sin, so  she jus' shoots at a couple rats, instead.

Three hour later Philadelphia Daily News wanna know if Papa The Green Lantern, or The Shadow. But none a the women what seen it can tell and they wouldn't know the difference anyway.

An' Johnny-Jump-Up? He all curled up in the rafters of a pier what hold up Dave & Buster's. That way he throw the victim right in the river. You know ghouls do tend to be lazy sometimes. An' zombie ghouls is worst laziest of all.....

The Russian (vampire)  guy? Never did find him...not that night anyway...

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THE RUSSIAN-VAMPIRE-PLAYBOY-OLIGARCH TOOK A BLOOD PISS ALL OVER ONE A THEM GREEN TABLE CLOTHS AT INDEPENDENCE HALL

Can't find him. Must be able to 'cloud' hisself. Got to be sleepin' somewheres, but we don't know where he is. Papa went over to the zoo. Thought maybe he'd hole up in one a them fiberglass polar bear dens. I do not know whether or not they got polar bears in Russia. They do talk about the 'Russian Bear' and all, but I can't recollect what species it is. Wears a big, tall, fur hat is all I know. And polar bears don't rightly do that. But anyway, he was not there. 


Most all the vampires, the local ones, I mean, are over wit' Doctor Franklin now. Some government guys is there too. Everybody yellin' and screamin' 'bout what that vampire, borscht for brains done to them people in Center City. Lucky they had time to scrape most of 'em  up before sunrise. Official story  (what they told the families, I mean) is they got snatched up by the aliens. Made 'em sit through a screening of COCOON. Gave 'em coffee wit' lots a chocolate-orange, Israeli, syrupy, whiskey stuff in it. Bought 'em new sneakers too, I think. Baylah say she hear they takin' 'em to 'Lantic City. You know, that's what they do at times like this.


Goomers from the Anti-Enchantment-Bureau (yeah, I know it don't make no sense) out lookin' for Johnny-Jump-Up. But since he 'sleep' all over the place, that will not be easy. 


Tomas wanna go back to Chestnut Hill. Annie say she gonna start droppin' people from the sky too, if they make her do that. 'Sides, neighbor bitch what fed her kid shitty pizza know too much 'bout them. Edith say Cherry Hill, over in Camden County, New Jersey is nice. Goes through there when she go back and forth from home. Sometimes Mister Edith like big, ole, corned beef sandwiches from The Kibbitz Room. You know how it is. Doctor Franklin say he like big, ole, corned beef sandwiches too.


He take 'em all in a see his Jersey Devil. You do know 'bout all the specimens he got? Government guy go - That's it? He look like a horsey-faced bastid wit' little, tiny bat wings glued on a his back......... Doctor Franklin assured him they real. Make the kid flap 'em and everything. He do that long as you feed him. Think some gal from the Anti- Enchantment -Bureau give him a toasted cinnamon-raisin bagel or somethin'...maybe wit' a little cream cheese. That how he like it.


Oh! And before I forget. That 'old bones'....the Neanderthal vampire, wit' 'em too. Baylah say he look like Moe from The Three Stooges. But he don't know who Moe is, so he just smile and nod. Doctor Franklin let him set in his 'lectric scooter. Let him steer it and everything. He laughin'! He whoopin'. They give him some blood squeezed out a woman wit' a touch a sugar. He like that. The woman (she work there) say the big needle hurt her ass, but she don't mind.


Annie wanna go in a other room and ride the 'laughin' hunch-back,' but nobody wanna take her. They still 'scussin' what to do about the Russian. Got a call in to Putin and everything, but can't get hold a him, 'cause he out topless horseback ridin' with a bunch a squealin' groupies. 


It good to be the king, or the czar or the big-dumb-nut, or whatever they got over there. Don't know what all them 'Natashas' is doin'. Hotel say they givin' 'em pedicures and teachin' 'em to eat with chopsticks. That's all they say....


But some security camera make a movie. It show that Grigori Usipov son-a-bitch takin' a blood whiz all over one them green table cloths  they  got at Independence Hall. Look like an old fashioned, colonial night club. But it ain't. That the room where they wrote the 'dependence declaration.'  They showin' it on You Tube right now. Vampire shit always poppin' up over there, 'cept nobody ever believe it.


We tell 'em. We do tell 'em. We say we only pretend this is fiction. But they don't know. You know how stupid human beans is.


Now, permit me to say 'good night,' for I am one tired disembodied spirit. So lemme go 'home' and play with my Leon Redbone collection a while. OK?


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TOMAS' THEORY ABOUT THE RUSSIAN, OLIGARCH VAMPIRE

Tomas says Grigori just came here for fun. He thinks we're like his 'Vegas.' Probably gonna chew up some shrill, young, cafe society cuties..... total a few Porches ...... buy (or steal) some souvenirs and then go home. They say he keeps a low profile in Europe, contributes to all the right demagogues, attends evening services at Saint Basil's, kills only the most pathetic, disconnected street urchins. Vampires learn  how to fit in, you know.


Annie says she wishes he was her pediatrician. I don't even wanna know that that signifies . Guess her people took her to a doctor.... on a regular basis, I mean. That might be a good sign. Maybe her truncated human existence wasn't so bad? She don't talk about going home to California so much since 'The Volga Wonder' showed up. But you know how she is. She'll go back to it. Conrad says she's a rotten, little shit, who should have given him some time to lose a few pounds and do some push-ups before she 'changed' him, 'cause now he gonna be stuck with 'man- boobs' til the cows come home. But she don't care.... Look what she's stuck with. Can't even ride the shooty-chutes on Steel Pier, 'cause she ain't fifty two inches tall yet...and she NEVER will be. Baylah says she'll take her sometime in the winter, real late at night. She (through her boyfriend) knows everybody in Atlantic City. They'll give her a ride...... 


Tomas wants Papa to go out and look for 'the Russian.' But Papa don't answer. Just sits there playing with a little, black, plastic 'Magic Eight Ball' fortune telling thingie. Man, the bastid who invented that HAD to be a genius. What's it got, like two or three parts and that's it? Bet Martha Stewart could make one in like five minutes.


Tomas wanna go out by hisself. Sarah says not to, 'cause it's too dangerous. He can usually 'feel' other vampires, but Grigori is different. Ain't no vampire can feel him. Witches picks up little, bitty things, but  they can't  really tell if it him, or just hives.


They did call Doctor Franklin. Ask him to see if the Great Armonica 'knows' something. He say it do know a little. He think the Russian wanna catch up wit' that Johnny Jump Up and take him back to Borscht-land. Only Doctor Franklin do not say Borscht-land. He call it 'Muscovy' like they did back in the day.... HIS day.


Do you remember who Johnny Jump Up is? I think they got somethin' on Google, if you punch in his name and the name a this here blog-opera. Think he got hisself premature buried, or somethin'. He like them monkeys what chews off faces. Only he ain't no monkey. But neither was the last guy what done that too...


Wonder how Tarzan keep Cheetah so calm? Never hear a him rippin' off no eye-lids or nothin'.


I think monkeys does that 'cause they doan wanna wear no pants. You know, ev'ry time you sees them they dressed up like Ed Begley Sr. from Twelve Angry Men, or somethin'. You know, like a grandpop, with pleated pants, a white shirt and suspenders and all. They must hate that crap, 'cause God never made 'em do it in the jungle.


Wanna know what the Russian bastid is doin' right now? He flyin'. He swoopin' down outta black, night sky (but only on them little, dark, narrow streets)..... Then he grab all-by-themself, scared, lonely folk under they arms, hoist 'em up like two hundred feet in a the sky . They kickin'. They screamin'. But he squeeze they neck real hard, so they don't scream too much. Then he say 'bye-bye' and jus' let go. Like to watch 'em go splat. So far he done three a them.


Damn.... How you think the government gonna deal wit' that shit when the sun come up?


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EDITH FEELS BAD ABOUT KITTY WELLS AND SHARES SOME PARANORMAL INSIGHTS

I feel bad about Kitty Wells. You know we listen to and make a lot of our own country music in The Pines. Washboard bands...Jug bands... Banjo players... We got it all. Pin-Head-Mel plays a good banjo and some a them Red Paint women are good clog dancers too. Ninety two years old. She was so young. Guess my views about longevity is kind a screwed, livin' with vampires and all. Do I want to be a vampire? (sigh) Truthfully, I do not know. Sure, I'm curious. I mean why do they call it 'the after life'? If it's so good, why ain't it named 'the better life'? I do not want to be a murderess, though and blood is too salty  for my taste. I know. I tried it as a kid. You know how you lick around boo-boo's and run your tongue over scabs and all? Well, I ain't ready to make a meal outta that. Tomas knows. We talk. He laughs when I tell him. Says it all looks different from 'the other side.' Mister Edith, my latest husband, says he'd take a powder if I ever go vampire on him. But I tell him not to worry. Figure if I was gonna do that, I'd drop like forty five pounds and get my titties fixed. Don't wanna look like no greasy skinned virago forever, you know. Can you imagine a vampire who has to buy her clothes from Lane Bryant? That would kill me...again, I mean.


I don't know what's gonna happen with that Russian life-eater. You see, Papa DOES stuff like that. He is SO impulsive. Consequences don't mean shit to him. Yeah, sure, I know they kept him locked up in a Roman dungeon all those years. I know he battled mastodons and wild, female 'cave' women. But, hell, everybody got their cross to bear. Know what I mean? And he IS over twenty eight thousand years old. Talks 'bout Elvis and Cab Calloway like they was yesterday. 


He does look nice in a suit, though. Look nice outta one too. I know. Seen him comin' out of a shower like eighteen or twenty five times. What am I gonna do...lie? He don't care and I gotta go in to clean up after anyway. Mister Edith don't know 'bout all that. Well, maybe he does...(sigh) He does. I know. But what am I supposed to do while he off strummin' on the ole banjo?


Vampires is basically a very disorganized nationality. I ain't never heard a no band big enough to need no 'king.' If that was to happen, some a them would just pick up and shove off. They do like their space. Yeah, I know, counting Blackie and Minnie and all we got like eleven (counting the 'elves' but not counting the 'cherubs'). Still, we do not see them much. And the Chevalier Jean-Michel is in another parallel universe, so he don't count for nothin', OK?


Sarah got back with Annie. They playin' 'Hootchie Barbies' right now. Annie do them voices real good. Got 'em bitch slappin' a one armed G.I. Joe doll. He like a sick pimp, or somethin'. Part a his velvet hair got rubbed off. Guess he got a case a the pimp mange.


Sarah DID remember to bring me back a new tube a fuzzy lip cream. She is good that way. So lemme go in the bathroom and fix myself up a little. 


Who knows? Maybe I do wanna be a vampire (some day) after all. But first I gotta get out them old Richard Simmons tapes...... or join Weight Watcher, or somethin'....


Oh, I once saw a vampire Santie-Claus in the old, Philadelphia Gimbels store and he was fat...But he was the only one.....


Dear God...Make Papa kill that Russian son-a-bitch...or make somebody kill him....


That's all...... Good night...


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LIGHTNING IN A BOTTLE... a not so 'noble' noble Vampire

Papa tried to restrain him. So what if the English tutor was too familiar? So what if his inexpensive, artificial, chemically based cologne was offensive. That's no excuse. People (or slight variations on the breed) don't go around jamming other people's hands down the garbage disposal.  One would be bad enough, but two is positively excessive. And the poor boy was only trying to earn some extra money to pay his way through Dancing School. Now how's he supposed to do 'jazz hands'!? 


Papa jumped on him right away. Bit his lip real hard. Smeared the blood all over the shredded, pulpy stumps. Kid was crying. Kid was screaming, convulsing and all. Twenty three years old. That's all he is, twenty three years old. A good kid to. He didn't know he was dealing with vampires. Sure, he knew they were a little bit 'crazy.' The concierge told him that. But Papa seemed all right.


And now they got him strapped on a gurney in a treatment room down under the Navy Yard in one of Doctor Franklin's laboratories. But, actually, that's the best place he could be. The Anti-Enchantment-Bureau does wonderful work. I think they got an alien physician, or maybe he's a guy from some other dimension. I do not know all the details, only that he looks like Hugh Beaumont (Beaver's dad) and talks like Celine Dion. 


They're attempting to 'do something' using the Great Armonica ( a sound frequency/energy device based on a REAL prototype Franklin built in the eighteenth century). It's supposed to be able to stimulate healing. Papa wanted to make the kid a vampire. Not his first choice, but what could he do? The kid was so innocent. But Sarah was against it. She is SO much like a basic human. Not that she can't sublimate and all, but she still thinks like a real nice, sweet-smiling first grade teacher. So it's going to take a while, however the combination of vampire blood (little infusions) and Franklin's tricks should grow him back a nice set a monkey paws. No, I'm just kidding. They'll be normal. 


Papa made Grigori (the Russian, vampire, oligarch) drink a little Sarah-blood too. You know, like to buffer that rat-weasel crap he's got. Didn't want to do it at first. Spit in his face. Starts yelling at him in mile-a-minute Russian. Could be Ukrainian. I don't know. Then he starts vibrating, like he got a real big dildo inside him. Knick-knacks start vibrating. Fish tank starts vibrating. Big, heavy pieces of furniture go skittering over the hardwoods. Sarah's ears start bleeding. She's yelling - Stop! Stop! Stop!..... But he won't stop. Papa's ready to kill him right then and there. 'Friend' or no friend. You don't disfigure people like that.


Russian knows what's coming, so he goes ZIP! and sublimates right through the window...the BIG window, and you know they're up on the seventeenth floor. Papa breathing so hard. His face was purple. It was actually purple. Concierge starts banging on the door. He KNOWS they're nothing but a bunch a son-of-a-bitch vampires. But he's a familiar and they take care of him. Tells everybody a bunch a rowdy young guys at a bachelor party went a little bit berserk. God knows what people thought when they saw the bleeding, thrashing, handless kid rolled out on that stretcher...... Concierge gave out a lot a gourmet fruit baskets, champagne too. So that made it all right. Let 'em take the bathrobes too. You know, you gotta do what you gotta do.


Little Bastid Annie loves that Russian guy. She thinks he's wonderful. Wants a drink vodka infused human blood. First you have to get the victim almost to the brink of fatal, alcohol poisoning.


Sarah took her to this all night toy store she knows. Bought some  real, whorey outfits for the Barbies. Annie likes when they look that way. She throws kisses to hookers on the street.

And what? You just got done watching True blood tonight? FUCK True Blood! 


What I'm tellin' you is REAL! ------- signed, One a the Disembodied Spirits.


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PLEASE ALLOW ME TO INTRODUCE MYSELF.... I AM A MAN OF WEALTH AND MEANS... Grigory Usipov speaks

I need no familiars to channel this for me. Such primitive devices are very easy to manipulate. I 'think' and it becomes manifest.


Do you know I can taste  you through the ether? I can observe your very body. And do not take me for a paragon. A Tomas, I am not. This one has taken no vows. This one does not kneel. A true Boyar of Old Muscovy commands. He savors life....and even death. 


I sat in the shadows watching Ivan the Terrible fry naked, shrieking victims in giant skillets. Some parts tend to stick you know. And the Czar so liked a clean pan. Do you know what he did? .....Well, I'll tell you. Starving prisoners from the deepest, rat-hole dungeons would be brought forth to crawl about on the still hot surface, peeling off the crisp, charred bits with their teeth. A few were reluctant . But a liberal application of iron-tipped 'cats' to scrawny, quivering fundaments can be very persuasive, although such measures did tend to soil the skillets even more.


I have two of those skillets and I use them, deep beneath the vast assembly hall of my palace/fortress in the Urals. K.G.B. used to send 'clients.' And I played with them til they broke.... Then, they'd send me new toys.


Oh, do you know how we got victims to lay still upon the searing bed?..... Muscle relaxers. We would inject them with chemicals. A type of passive paralysis would ensue making all movement impossible. How the tears would sizzle.


Sometimes I'd order the kitchen serfs to make sausages from the soft, cooked meat. Then I'd stuff the sizzling delicacies  down into the fat, greasy mouths of my most sensual 'love dolls.'...... No, they really weren't dolls. They were females, live ones. We'd strip them down and truss them up like giant marionettes. The shows were quite famous. Magnates came from far and wide to see such rarified beauty. I'd vault to the stage and frolic with them. A Russian noble is proud of his body. A Russian vampire, doubly so.


Some legendary performances culminated in huge, drunken sacrificial orgies. I say 'sacrificial' because deaths did occur. Not among the aristocrats. No, never the aristocrats. But some  girls did die, either from my kiss, or  due to the indiscriminate  rough handling. 


God bless the serfs and their large families...always plenty to go around.


Pity we can't enslave them anymore....... at least not in the overt sense of the word.


You will leave now... It's time for my English lesson...


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