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, June 16, 2023

scene from the motion picture vampires of dublin

The snooker room at Castle Dracula.
Dracula playing Frankenstein's monster for money, has just potted the pink and is getting ready to take on a long black.
He moves purposesfully around the table, chalking his cue as he goes.
"This is for the match," he mutters.
A discreet turntable is playing a 1970s elpee version of The Monster Mash.
Dracula leans over the table and lines up on the black ball.
The door bursts open.
Mike stands framed in the doorway.
"Stop you foul fiend of hell!" he roars.
At precisely that moment, the Count Dracula miscues and tears a strip of green baize down the centre of his beautiful snooker table.
The record skips with a hideous scraping sound and is silent.
There is a pregnant pause.
Dracula straightens up.
Face contorted with unholy fury, he turns to Mike.
"You," he exclaims. "Here!"
"Yes... me... here..." snarls back Mike as if he means it.
Dracula eyes his snooker table and then turns back to Mike.
"You," he exclaims again. "You... you... you bollocks."
Dracula moves from the snooker table and begins advancing on Mike.
Mike produces a crucifix from under his coat.
Dracula recoils sincerely.
"Back you foul fiend of hell," roars Mike, somewhat repetitiously and indeed unnecessarily since Dracula is already cowering and hissing and moving backwards in a manner that shows no inkling or intention of ever moving forward again.
There is an awkward moment with Mike waving the crucifix and Dracula cowering but nothing else really happening.
"Back you foul fiend of hell," roars Mike, this time because he can't really think of anything else to say.
"Careful," manages Dracula. "Careful. You nearly had my eye out there."
"Back," snarls Mike but the snarl has become lame compared to his previous efforts.
He is finding it hard to think of good one liners to go with the work in hand.
A thought strikes Dracula.
"You realise the crucifix only works if you believe in it," he says suddenly straightening up all business like and ceasing to hiss.
"I do believe in it," iterates Mike with a hint of doubt.
"Been to mass lately?" enquires Dracula.
"Well no. But I believe. Back. Back. You. You foul... You foul..."
"You believe in what exactly?" demands 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," says Dracula grinning.
Mike gingerly lays the crucifix on the snooker table.
With Dracula eyeing him quizzically, he picks up a snooker cue and breaks it over his knee.
"A snooker cue?" says Dracula.
"A wooden stake," enunciates Mike confidently.
"A focquing snooker cue," repeats Dracula almost to himself, before adding with a touch of bitterness: "My own focquing snooker cue."
It's Mike's turn to step forward.
He brandishes his snooker cue stake.
"I banish thee Dracula to endless darkness, back you foul fiend of hell," he roars.
"You like saying that, don't you?" queries Dracula drily.
"Well it's not easy coming up with fresh things to say in this situation," counters Mike.
"You know the snooker cue has to go through my heart?" asks Dracula.
"You what?" says Mike.
"It has to go through my heart to kill me," explains Dracula.
"I was not aware of that," says Mike.

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