Dracoola

(This is a comedy version of the beginning of the book Dracula, so get your laughing caps on.)

This was written in a series of journal entries from Charles H. Whistle, an Englishman.



March 3


Dear my dearly beloved journal,

I've just experienced what has to be the strangest most awkward thing I've ever experienced. I was to meet a driver and his carriage just outside of town on a lone, dark, road, at 10:30 at night.

And be taken to a castle far up in the mountains.

I did, the horses were two, each at least eleven feet in height, snarling beasts. And the driver... Long black, curly hair that flowed in the wind with the slightest a breeze. It was long indeed, down to his feet. His eyes were glowing red! I became frighted and jumped in the carriage of all places. That's when I must have fell asleep.

I awoke to a start. I was on a dark road, winding through the woods. The driver was thrashing the thongs of the horses wildly, we were moving at a great speed, I'd say 90 kilometers an hour perhaps. It was quite exhilarating. The carriage was bouncing about tremendously.

That's when I noticed them. Wolves! At least a hundred, seven feet in height. Growling beasts.

I fell asleep again.

When I awoke the carriage was aparked. But I was not at all near any castle I could tell. But the driver was gone! I became frightened and fell asleep.

I awoke again to the carriage going at great speed. But now the driver was sitting beside be. Thrashing the thongs, a frustrated calmness in his eyes. They were still red, but faint embers compared to before. And his hair seemed to have tremendously grown. Flowing, black, curly, all about, inside and outside the carriage. In my face, and wreathed about my body. It smelt of oil. After a while the driver went back to his driver's seat. I quickly fell asleep.

I awoke, the carriage still going at great speed, but the driver was gone, or though I thought. But then I heard bumping on the roof of the carriage, and peeked my head up. He was on the roof, thrashing, bouncing. I lay back down, and fell asleep.

I sit here now in the carriage writing this down by a lantern light. Still in the carriage, going at great speed. The driver in his seat. I'm going to go to sleep now.



March 4


Dearly beloved journal,

It is morning now. Still in the carriage. going at great speed. The drivers hair is still flowing. It's quite beautiful, the morning I mean. Misty, cold. I am quite nervous right now. We are on the edge of a sheer cliff. To our right.. drop, to our left.. rock wall. No more than ten feet of riding space. It's quite exhilarating.

It's now mid-day, still riding up the mountains. It's quite exhilarating.

Night again. Wolves. Thousands of them! On our tail. Chasing us. God speed.



March 5


It's just past midnight, I'm writing by moonlight, it's quite bright actually, the moon that is. The driver hasn't slept yet, not to my knowledge. I was just awoke by a cry, in the woods to our left, wolves perhaps. I'm frightened stiff. I'm going to try to go back to sleep now.



March 9


Six days of riding, at full speed mind you. I feel like I haven't eaten in days.



March 11


Dear journal,

By God! The next morning I awoke to a start. A huge castle in front of my eyes, into the heavens it towered. Quite amazing. The driver was standing outside the carriage door. It gave me a start. He reached his hand out, I took it, it was cold and slimy, and strong. He helped me out. I carried my trappings to the great door. Black it was, tall it was, huge iron nails drove deep into it's hard wood, thousands upon thousands of nails. A thousand million perhaps. Quite amazing.

The driver shot off around the bend. At great speed, hair flowing outside the carriage. Except that's when I noticed that the two horses were no longer, just two little mules.

I knocked on the vast doors. A great clash and echo followed each bang. It hurt my hand. Then silence. No one came. I lay down and fell asleep.

I awoke and toileted in a nearby bush. And quickly fell back asleep.

I repeated the process for three days. Then, finally, I might add, the door crashed open. Inward. And in the vast darkness there dwelled a man, tall, near seven feet. Clad in all black, not a single speck of color besides black, save for a long, flowing, yellow silk cape. He had a long mustache, white and black, it reached the floor and drug. He occasionally stepped on it, stumbling. His hair was also white and black, curly like the driver's, yet not as long.

Anyway, he jestered me in and froze. For the longest time he stood there frozen, an hour or two. I fell asleep quickly and awoke. I went in and he lunged at me, flew is more like it, I struck his face. He whimpered. He protruded his hand for a shake. I took it. It was far cold, like the driver's. And slimy. And strong. In-fact my hand bones popped, twice. I grimaced, he smiled and squeezed harder... my hand exploded. It was quite painful.

"I am Dracoola," said Dracoola, "count Dracoola," he added, in an excellent thick British accent, "Come and go as you like, go and come as you like."

"I am Whistle" I said, peeing my pants.

"Come with me." Dracoola ordered, and his mustache seemed to shrink as he said the words.

He led me through the large entrance room, huge animals on the walls, dead of course. The likes of which I had never seen. Great beasts. The rug beneath my feet was red and black, expertly woven. The furniture, all chairs, thousands of dark wooden chairs. God knows how old everything was, hundreds of years perhaps. The whole place smelled of a toilet.

We ascended a large staircase and another hall, and another staircase, and another hall, and another staircase, and another hall, and another staircase, and another hall. All lined with the same type of chairs. I complemented him on the beautiful draperies, he didn't answer. Quite odd the journey was, for every time I looked away, and then back at him again, the further away he became, and I had to catch up.

He led me down the last hall, and took a left, and a left, and another left, through three rooms, all empty, save for four or five chairs against the walls, all broken and worn, until we were back in the hall. Then he led me right, and another right, and stopped in the second room.

"I bid you..." the count said while turning round, "please, go where you like in this castle, except for the three thousand, million, billion rooms that have the "please do not enter" signs nailed to them."

"Understood." I agreed.

We took off again. He led me right, and then back into the long hallway. Then down the hall, almost to the end, and his cape snagged on one of the chairs, and it ripped, he stumbled and recovered. His hair grew a little I thought.

We reached the destination through a door on the left three doors away from the end of the hall, which was a dead-end. Good heavens, I fainted.

I awoke a few seconds later, and came to my senses. We were in a large dining room. A very long table lined with the same chairs. And an excellent dinner awaiting my slobbering mouth. Poached eggs, scrambles eggs, fried eggs, baked eggs, and water.

He showed me my room, it was through a door and then another, and told me to make a hasty toilet, and then come back and eat. I took a huge, loud, prolonged toilet, and feared the count would be angry with me.

"I bid you, eat!" the count demanded, as he set down in one of the chairs. He did not eat.

I set opposite of him and began to gobble. And as I did, I got a chance of observing him.

His forehead was monstrous and domed, thin blue veins running every which way through it. His nose was very small and thin. His eye-brows were bushy and curly. His chin was pronounced and strong. His hair was indeed curly, and seemed to curl in it's own profusion, and curl more after that. His hands were very broad but his fingers, good God they were, well normal, but with long, glistening, sharpened finger nails. His ears were skinny, very skinny, and white and pointed. As far as I could see under his large mustache, his canine teeth were long and yellow, and sharp, coming well over his lower lips. And as strange as it may seem, there were long, curly, skinny hairs coming out of his palms, very curly, curling in their on profusion, and more after that. The whole effect was one of extreme weirdness.

After I finished my meal, me and the count sat in front of the burning fireplace and talked about my beloved homeland until morning came. The count desperately wanted to live there. In fact everytime I mentioned the name England or London he salivated, I thought.

And then I heard it..... wolves! Thousands upon thousand of them! Howling. I quivered in my seat and the counts eyes darted over to me and he spoke.

"Ahhhhhhhh........... Ahhhh..... Ah... Listen to them.......... ch ch ch children of the night...... what howling they mmmmake."

I fainted and awoke a few hours ago in my bed. I am writing this now by candle light and am about to bed. Good night good heavens.



March 13


I awoke this evening to a cold breakfast of sausage links and a note on the table, here is what it read, close enough anyway...


"I am going out. EAT!" -D

When he returned his whole face was covered in a red liquid. I asked him what it was and he started, and told me it was fresh milk, and darted to his room.

Later that night I was shaving my thickly grown beard in a tiny mirror I had brought in my trappings. I felt a hand lay on my shoulder even though there was no reflection of anything in my tiny mirror behind me, I tremendously jerked and screamed aloud, and deeply slit my throat. I swiftly turned and found the count standing there. I held my throat as gushing blood poured through my fingers and spat on the floor. By God I thought I had killed myself. The count lurched forward and was repelled by what seemed to be my tiny cross I had drawn on my neck with a quill since I was young. He grabbed my mirror and thrust in out the window, I saw it glimmer into the night sky like a star, far far away.

Later I abandaged myself.



March 14


By God, by God, by God! I surely must have been dreaming! By God I swear I saw Count Dracoola crawling on the rocky side of the castle out my window! Ahhhhhhhh! Good heavens I fainted!



March 16


I write now having experienced the most awfully disturbing thing that has ever happened to me. Two days ago I awoke to another cold breakfast of zucchini, raw actually, and another note...

"EAT!" -D

By God when he came back he had little wings on his back! I mentioned it to him and he said he fell on a chicken, and some feathers must have clung to him. I'm not sure I believe him, though his story does indeed sound plausible.

The next day when the count was out I wondered to a high room that did not have a sign on it. It was already opened. I walked in and found a magnificent view of the mountains through a rather large window. There was a couch so I quickly beded and fell fast asleep.

What happened next I thought was a dream. And it was as if I couldn't move. Things, in the distance, in front of the moon! Little dark spots like balls in flight. As they approached the window I soon discovered they were women!!!! They floated through the window.... well, actually burst through is better. One didn't make it through and plummeted to her demise I presume. The others lay sprawled on the floor. One of the three was unconscious.

They all were obese. Red eyes! Huge red lips seemingly about to burst. All had on white night gowns. One had terrible horn-rimmed glasses, I thought. A blonde bent over me and was about to 'suck me' somewhere, I heard her say to the conscious one. I was quite aroused actually.

Then I felt it, the counts hairy presence. He slapped the blonde across the room and out the window. I glanced up at him as he held the conscious one by the throat. His eyes, on fire! Flames reaching the ceiling! His hair, massively long and fiercely blowing! And his eyebrows, by God the were like a hot bar of metal on his forehead... it fell off when he calmed down a little.

"He is mine!" he snarled like a drooling dog.

The woman laughed like a man.

"I give you a baby!" he grabbed what was clearly a doll out of his clothing and through it out the window. The woman dove after it and the unconscious one floated after it, still unconscious I presume. I fainted.

Yesterday when I woke from that terrible experience I looked out my window and saw the count on the wall again, he disappeared through a gaping hole in the side of the castle. I waited for about two hours and slowly climbed out my window. It was terribly high up, 20,000 feet I thought.

I made it to the gaping hole and climbed in. I found myself in an empty room with stacks of those damned chairs climbing to the ceiling. I found a door and went through it. I quietly went down a hall and found myself in a very large church I presumed. Holy music playing, somewhere. I proceeded to the far end and found a room full of large boxes and grave stones. Two thousand of each I thought. But there was one box that stood out... it was old and rotten and stunk of butt gas. I grabbed it to open it and it fell apart. Out fell the count curled up, sucking his thumb. His eyes wide open, but he was asleep. He was naked and terribly muscular. His hair was deep red and striped with black. His eyes bulging. His finger and toe nails extremely long. A very grotesque sight indeed. I had to rid the world of this.......... THING! This... Count Dracoola!

I found a nearby broken broom handle I thought. It was quite sharp. By God I laid him open. I went back to the gaping whole, and slowly climbed back up to my bedroom, and now I sit on my bed writing this down.

I will go out the front door and leave this place.... In-fact I don't know why I haven't done that yet.

In a minute. I'll do it in a minute. I have to toilet first. I feel the oncomings of a loud one.


- Stefan

It hit the floor

The glass tipped over and fell. This was played in slow motion to Greg. It fell the long journey to the newly carpeted floor. It hit, bounced a little, sending apple juice flying.

"Ugh!" it grunted.

"Huh?" Greg whispered to himself.

"Why did I fall?" The glass said.

But Greg was too puzzled, he only made a funny growling sound. He thought he was going mad. He passed out.

He woke up. Still on the floor, not moving.

If only someone was here to pick me up. Jeeze I made a mess. Greg thought.

- Joey

The Beetle and the Bee

One day a beetle flew into a bee. They said their pardons and went on their way.
The next day they hit each-other again. They said sorry again and went on their way.
The next day they didn't fly into each-other. They said hey and went on their way.
The day after that the beetle flew across the spot they usually met, stopped flying, and hovered. The bee didn't come by. Where was he? The beetle waited and waited. Still no sign of him. He became saddened and worried. He started to go on his way when he heard the buzzing of a bee, he turned around with exited eyes and looked toward the sound. It was the bee! But he was injured.
"Sorry I'm late!" said the buzzing bee, "I just got fugin' nailed with a tennis racket! Jeez!"

- Stefan

Jack

Jack went to town, Jack left town, Jack right town.

- Stefan