The Heelers Diaries

the fantasy world of ireland's greatest living poet

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Location: Kilcullen (Phone 087 7790766), County Kildare, Ireland

Friday, May 18, 2012

scene from the motion picture vampires of dublin

Mike entered the snooker room at Castle Dracula.
Dracula, practicing alone, was in the process of going for a difficult red.
"Stop you foul fiend of hell!" roared Mike.
Dracula missed the red and straightened up.
Face contorted with unholy fury, he turned to Mike.
"You," he exclaimed. "Here!"
"Yes, me here," snarled back Mike as if he meant it.
Dracula eyed his missed red and then turned back to Mike.
"You," he exclaimed again. "You... You bollocks."
Dracula moved from the snooker table and began advancing on Mike.
Mike whipped a crucifix from under his coat.
Dracula recoiled sincerely.
"Back you foul fiend of hell," roared Mike, somewhat unnecessarily since Dracula was already cowering and hissing and moving backwards in a manner that showed no inkling or intention of ever moving forward again.
There was an awkward moment with Mike waving the crucifix and Dracula cowering but nothing else really happening.
"Back you foul fiend of hell," roared Mike, this time because he couldn't really think of anything else to say.
"Careful," managed Dracula. "Careful. You nearly had my eye out there."
"Back," snarled Mike but the snarl was lame compared to his previous efforts.
He was finding it hard to think of good one liners to go with the work in hand.
A thought struck Dracula.
"Hey, the crucifix only works if you believe in it," he said suddenly straightening up all business like and ceasing to hiss.
"I do believe in it," iterated Mike with a hint of doubt.
"Been to mass lately?" enquired Dracula.
"Well no. But I believe. Back. Back. You. You foul... You foul..."
"You believe in what exactly?" demanded Dracula taking a step towards him.
"Well, er, I believe in a great oneness. You know. Like we're all on a musical journey. Er. Will that do?"
"No it won't do," said Dracula grinning.
Mike gingerly laid the crucifix on the snooker table.
With Dracula eyeing him quizzically, he picked up a snooker cue and broke it over his knee.
"A snooker cue?" said Dracula.
"A wooden stake," enunciated Mike confidently.
"A focquing snooker cue," repeated Dracula almost to himself, before adding with a touch of bitterness: "My focquing snooker cue."
It was Mike's turn to step forward.
He brandished his snooker cue.
"I banish thee Dracula to endless darkness," he roared.
"Again with the roaring?" queried Dracula leerily.
"It's not really the sort of thing you can say in a conversational voice," countered Mike.
"You know the snooker cue has to go through my heart?" said Dracula.
"You what?" said Mike.
"It has to go through my heart to kill me," explained Dracula.
"Ah for f--k's sake," said Mike.

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