…And Then Things Got Weird….



Black Friday: The aftermath (from Batshit) – available soon.


Chapter 26: Sssssss-slaughter is the Best Medicine: Aftermath 

It was a miracle that only a handful of people perished in the Black Friday battle for Poenari Castle. Two of the Meine Runt-Pferde mercenaries, Golden Dusche (Golden Shower) and Frechen Säugen (Perky Suckle), were trampled during the initial assault as they stood by the heavy wooden doorway and were relieved of their trendy clothing. There was no stopping the ravenous hoard of Black Friday Shoppers, until every stitch on every mercenary was gone.

After the sale, Elizabeth picked through the leftovers in the castle with her talons and then placed a comforting wing around Jonathan who was crying his eyes out. 

“Mina always told people that she was so willowy that she could be blown away with by (sniffle, sniffle)…” he said. “Oh no!”

“By a fart. I know. Rest in pieces, Mina dear,” said Elizabeth as she pulled out her hip flask and saluted the air, “wherever the unholy fute you are.”

“Mina vent out of this vorld a true heroine—a legend,” said Vlad, “She’s probably scattered somevhere over Florida.”

“Her pretty blonde head is probably in Mexico,” said Lupta, noting the prevailing winds.

Question Mark and Candy pulled up on the Segway. “Where’s Mina?”

“Gone,” pined Jonathan. He sighed. “I have this terrible fear that her cute little ass is probably on display in the Brigitte Bardot Museum in France by now. Geez, what happened to your face, Mark?”

“He’s was popping his zits at the escaping mercenaries,” said Candy.

Jonathan sat on a stump. “Oh, ick. An excreter.” Now he was thoroughly ill.

“Poor Mina. I won’t be able to sleep without the sound of Mina’s self-loathing orgasms crying out into the night,” said Elizabeth.

“Mnnnnnnngph?” said Huthbert who shambled out of the woods holding hands with Penelope.

Grrrrrrrowpt (Mina is fertilizer),” moaned Penelope.

Huthbert nodded and hugged her. They were happy — looking forward to growing mmmmm-M-OLD together. 

Penelope moved Huthbert’s dusty hand to her dusty ass.


“Look!” said Elizabeth, pointing to a fine mist seeping through the bricks in the wall.

Lupta Axe turned to see. “Smokey Robinson! It’s a miracle!”

“It’s a Stevie Wonder!” said Question Mark.

“It’s Mina!” said Jonathan.

Mina’s form had taken shape among the vapor. “Yesiree, pardners, I done lassoed me a fart-ado (far-tay-doh) and had myself a rodeo!”

“Mina whips butt!” said Candy, snapping her bullwhip.

“Oh, Mina. Your clothes!” said Elizabeth.

Mina’s little Annie Oakley outfit was left in tatter. There wasn’t enough left of it to be called tatters—plural.

“I must look a mess,” said Mina.

“You’re bleeding, darling,” said Jonathan.

Bat heads riveted. Some turned 360 degrees.

“Let me lick your wounds,” Jonny pleaded.

“Down, boy,” she said. “I’m okay, Jonny. Really! Well…maybe not.”

“We were worried that your cute little—” Lupta began to say.

“My cute little what?” asked the willowy one.

“Your handsome young minstrel was heartbroken,” added Elizabeth. “He was…fretting. Did I just say what I thought I said?”

“Good vun.”

“Mina,” explained Jonathan, as he turned back into a laid back hip human. “I had this awful vision that your body was blown up and…your cute buns, yes, those, were blown alllllll the way to the Bardot Museum in Paris where they put them on display, and then—”

“Awww, that’s sweet, Jonny.” She turned her back toward him, displaying  her last tatter. “Were they displayed…like…this?”

“I know where this conversation is going,” said Lupta. “C’mon, everyone, some of us old folks need to get some endless sleep.”

Bats ^^ö^^ The Witch Meets the Bikers


Find the book BATS at:

“Who are you and what do you know about Infinity Upton-Downes?” thundered Tor, the largest member of the motorcycle club known as the Hell’s Angles (Architects on vacation). “How would you know that Infinity Upton-Downes ain’t home, here in Transylvania? Her Witchipedia biography says that she lives here year-round. I know everything about her…’cept what she looks like. I imagine that she’s pretty hot after readin’ her novels.”

“Oh. Howwwww do I know she isn’t home, snowflake? ’Cause you’re talkin’ to her, ya big ugly bastard! What happened to your eye?”


“Your eye! Are ya deaf too? Bend down and let me take a look you got something…right there!” She poked it. “Nyuk, nyuk.”

“Ow! Old bat!”

“You’re fine, petal. Look through this telescope. See!” The telescope left a big black greasy circle around Tor’s poked eye. “So, you don’t believe that I am the famous Infinity? Have you read Tragic Lust #34? Of course you haven’t! I just finished writing it. It’s a romantic called Go-Go West, Young Man.”

Lupta, who used Infinity Upton Downes as her pen name, waved her cane and began to recite:

“Ahem… Time. Stood. Still. Broken by an intensifying vibration, Thunder Thigh’s glistening bronze body began to quake. Handsome Jack’s mighty maracas nearly shook loose. The Paiute guide howled when she clamped down and crushed the stunned studly Spillwell’s notorious hardened spike… The wagon master’s dying wail triggered the legendary Montana avalanche known by all school-age children today as ‘Fuckin’ awesome!’”

Tor turned to his biker club leader, Chester. “Holy Swiss cheese, Chester!”

“Holy…It’s really her!” said Brutehilda, Chester’s monstrous spouse.

Fuckin’ illiterates, thought Lupta.

“Yup. That’s Infinity,” said a Viking-helmeted man in a business suit, named Lutefisk.

Willowy Mina shook her head. She still couldn’t believe that her own aunty, Lupta Axe, was the famous author of the disturbing books that she had been hiding beneath her mattress with her deluxe Willie Wanker Bar.

Seven-foot Tor bent down and kissed Lupta’s black heavy heeled shoes and began to bawl like a baby.

“Enough, my Swedish meatball. You kids won’t find the god-blessed Countess and Prince Vlad at home neither!”

“Of course they’re not home,” said Brutehilda. “Vlad the Impaler and Bathory the Bloody Countess died hundreds of years ago.”

Lupta pointed her crooked cane at Elizabeth’s rumbling Challenger. “Do you see the hottie behind the wheel with red pinstripes in her hair and glowing boobs next to the guy with the funny mustache smoking god-knows-what-unfortunate-creature in his pipe while wiping the unicorn shit off of his shoe? Well, that’s them sitting in the car, turd loaf. You’re looking at the genuine Prince Vlad the Impaler Dracula Tepes,” (From behind the windshield, Vlad smiled and mimed “Hi!” as he lifted his Meerschaum pipe and eyebrows.) “and the Bloody Countess Elizabeth ‘Hot Wheels’ Bathory, the real deal.”  — Elizabeth grinned like a bear trap while flashing her glowing red-hot nipples …. . .-.. .-.. —, which in Morse code translated to “Hello.” They even beeped.

BugHouse (Opening chapter)

Bughouse ebook-2 copyBugHouse ————

Long ago, when riding home after school, a group of 8-year-old kids would stop to tease the patients of The Jalacy Hawkins Sanitarium. These ‘little monsters’ loved to upset the invalids enjoying the fresh afternoon air.

Bored, the ‘monsters’ would ride home, baseball cards flapping in their spokes, laughing, screaming cruel names, and tossing acorns at the patients.

I knew these ‘monsters.’

I was one of them.

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