Sardoodledom: Part Three Darkened Promise Eternal Finale: SARDOODLEDOM

By Laura Jean Lysander

 

Bowdlerized version Edition, a bit cleaner, but still dark and dystopian: The thrilling, tormenting conclusion to SARDOODLEDOM: The Broken Rule, and Fury's Truth. This is the third installment, Part Three, Eternal Finale;  It was almost eight months later, after the harrowing, deadly, shocking incident that changed all of Eir, Imre and and Tony's  lives in an instant; Resilient and brilliant, the young beauty Eir stumbles upon a fated cryptic message from the missing, abducted, enigmatic princely Imre. This leads to an unexpected trip for Eir and the now non-tyrant turned Templar Tony, cagey, suave Tony knows much more about it than Eir or anyone else was aware of, and his now torrid feelings are running rampant; he has held it only to himself in obscurity until now, for soon it will all come spilling forth with another jarring, supernatural, mystic, arcane clue; to figure out just how and when to find and rescue the abducted and valiant ransomed Imre, who has secretly, courageously been praying they discover what aid and romantic pledges he has left for them before the terrible, tangled web of their veiled, clandestine family's secrets ensnares and destroys them all While Imre is discovering more and more hidden, horrid truths of their past, as well as newly founded ancestral members who seem to all be against him? Can they all free themselves from the dynamited danger and surmount the evils lurking within their own family tree? Will Eir and Tony be able to find and emancipate the captive, calamitously cornered Imre? Read on and find out...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Phantasmique The Mystic Scroll & Scribe
• Release date: Jul 17, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223444503

Book preview

By Laura Jean Lysander

Dedicated to all those who have been abused,

bullied, mistreated,

unjustly ridiculed and misjudged,

who have endured and risen above,

and continue to live and forgive;

for LOVE...

is all that matters...

A bowdlerized, cleaner version

Digital illustrative graphic editing

cover art by Squire Lysander~

A Dark, Demented

Supernatural

Mystery Soap Operetta

Comedy Thriller...

In Short, A Modern Gothic Noir Love Story...

Foreward

THIS TALE, Eternal Finale, is a Bowdlerized version (less blue, sweetened, and without most of the cuss terms but still worthwhile) of the third partition of the novel Series Sardoodledom; it is the divided last second half of the previously published Novel Darkened Promise: while I re-edited it, as usual, it went ornery and even more verbose (yet the blaring errors have been addressed and most corrected, unless I again have diverted to oversight).  May I suggest you read the first part, The Broken Rule, Part One: and Darkened Promise, Fury’s Truth Volume Two , and just be aware that this snarky, verbose, overdone nefariously torrid sequel is an even more sinister, deranged,  diabolically darker and adverse than the former half;

This version, though, is a bowdlerized edition, which means you do get most of the same of that previous Edition only it is within a cleaner read, more acceptable to the public within morals, and without the profuse cussing and present-day and not so present day obscenity wording in the other version. It is told with other verbal elaborations that would lessen the sting of the content, so other readers could accept the darkness who might necessarily not normally read it; I don’t think this takes away at all from the thriller storyline, as it was formerly written in its first draft so many years ago without any blue language whatsoever. I just continually profusely elaborated on it to keep its noir darkness and thriller/horror suspense content up to par with what would be expected, so this version I think is an elevated progression of the project and in my opinion, a better edition than the former.

Please regard that notion before delving into it and possibly please read the first half of Sardoodledom, The Broken Rule, and Part Two Darkened Promise Fury’s Truth, for you would be missing out on many of the key former elements of this incredulously ridiculous, overdone, melodramatic questionable Sardoodledom serial plot line and the main character’s back story if you do; Not to say this demented half cannot stand up on its own, I think it can if you actually enjoy the story, this, ah, type of thing...? Yet it was specifically written as a continuation, for it is also a Soap Operetta, and because it just could not fit all of its overly exaggerated and profuse elaboration of notoriously dramatic overdone personal familial human horror into one book. I cut the project in half and published it this way for it just became too long and winded. And then to my chagrin, I was forced to cut the second half in half again...go figure.

This now renamed third partition half of Sardoodledom: Part Three Darkened Promise Eternal Finale, also involves more mature characters, subject matter, and even more awful, disturbing flashback situations which may not be suitable for younger teen readers; I strongly advise and recommend the reader to be at least within the third year of high school or coming of age presently; it is not for the virtuously strict of heart to read (they may warily condemn it) nor those who shy away from the dark misfortunes of life, so please heed the I told you so warning if you feel it may be too much to deal with, for even I found it unnerving while attempting to complete it and agitated me, not at all my favorite exercise to do. Maybe I’m just too sensitive? Is that it? To even read my own connived farcical truths of life? There are also as mentioned older mature characters, adults adulting in many significantly wrong, non-politically correct ornery ways, and the plot takes you off and out totally from the previous late teenage high school setting within the prequel quite quickly to a more adventurous, unknown overseas scenario, though not devoid of any of the flavor of the first half; so if you just wanted more (and worse of) of what you had read in the first part it is here, served up hot on a platter; you just need to know it isn’t dealing with day to day teenaged school scene relationship or classrooms at all, it moves out of that quickly as stated it introduces new, previously mentioned and shortly seen older characters (non-teens) and the previous main characters return to love and hate, elevating the soap operatic theme.

It flashes and regresses into some of the reprehensible, censurable, utterly offensive, hurtful traumatic past events of the main characters, so you get a better idea and backlog of why they are who they have evolved into, and why they have made choices in their lives and behaved in certain ways. Some of this (most flashbacks) may disturb some, but frankly, it disturbed me greatly even to create, delve into, and write it;

In this version these flashbacks have their worded jarring graphics lessened, some of the content even removed, if possible had been brought back to a more ‘clean’ version as the true first draft for this is a bowdlerized cut, and for me, it was really hard to continue to write, I hesitated to do it, and even did not go full force with them, and debated should I honestly include these abhorred scenes, even if they were in snippets mentioned as part of the story in the first half as clues to the character’s development just briefly? Should I go so far as to elaborate and write them out? Is it censurable? I resolved to continue.

I might leave the other uncut versions out still for reading or sale yet they also need to be updated and revised and in need of dire edits, which is why I decided to create these versions for I had found many irksome errors once again as I was re-writing these, and well...as I said It was rather harrowing to write that way, I forced myself to do it, but that is a horror thriller suspense story and a noir romance; you can still write a story in that genre without those censorable additions and it can still be just as good. I had to attempt it. This Trilogy will always need help and editing.

I still am unsure if that was wise to do, create those stepped-up darker versions, I honestly did keep getting up to walk away, disturbed each time I edited and updated as if it upset me morally to forego it (as I thought it would anyone; it did not give me pleasure but experience) my heart cannot take it, and were the most unenjoyable detestable scenes to create, but I did to challenge myself, and to finish and complete the story, for it was there, that part of life, a hidden awful part of it that in our stark brutish reality at times... some unfortunates in this world have gone through, just not ever fully explained, blanks were there, hidden and secreted off, and many who if they do read this in scrutiny would question the back story and why it was left out. I guess this explanation may quench that question. Maybe I am an author wimp, who knows? I myself am not even sure why except...

With that explained, and with my pleasure to keep you entertained, and thanks for your interest, this is a tale of fiction and in no way taken from any real-life factual occurrences or individuals; please pass no judgment upon it, for it is just a story and (at least I know) was done on my side to humanely help those who have gone through such tragic, unspoken situations in life to have others understand where they are coming from, to place oneself within their shoes, their perspective, and have compassion and respect for them; That to me is the saving grace of the reason for writing this story, and to help heal those as we altruistically should who have been there.

The foretelling of the action also switches back and forth from all of the perspectives of the three main characters. In short, three-first person views, and a one-third-person perspective, so you can understand where they all individually are coming from when possible, for those who may have a favorite character can now get much more of an idea of what makes them feel and tick from them. This is not usually the case in a novel, but I pushed myself as a writer to get into the characters deeply and form them in strength, an exercise for me, also as a former actress to accentuate their individual traits, and a treat for the readers who wished to see this in each of their point of view when possible.

The ending? Well, I’m not too sure if... there really is one, and I am even toying with the idea of another nefarious part to this If I could, for there are some clues written in this second half regarding more of the ancestral past of the character’s family. I might be able to go forward with that idea if I ever have time or whimsy and do not finally tear my hair out over this and finally can stop updating it, or more inspiration, or finally get these two after-parts to the point where they are to me... done...and after this edition, I think (not really) they will be, but then again, this is a soap operetta...a ludicrous Sardoodledom, hence it is infinite and sempiternal...

AND SO...We continue right where we had left off... after

Chapter 6...

CHAPTER 7

WHEN SORROWS COME, THEY COME NOT  SINGLE SPIES, BUT IN BATTALIONS~

CLAUDIUS, HAMLET, ACT IV SCENE V

SHAKESPEARE~

IT HAD TAKEN UP UNTIL the next mid-morn, almost noon,  that I felt coherent enough warding and waning off the forced injected sedative to arise, shower, and dress...most likely it was probably 1 pm already; I sat sitting at the small table, the mock set-up dining area, off a turn at the bottom of the stairwell in the Schloss Mansion Villa manor, where they would serve me my meals now. It was after that horrendous reveal and the disappearance of newly met sister Edel, after that epic, gross, unmentionable shakeup night. I had fallen asleep and stayed that way until an hour ago in a dead drug-induced stupor, finally out of the groggy, induced haze and took a quick shower. I was positioned to eat next to the large, ornate marble fireplace. Antique, expensive German vases stuffed with fresh, blooming roses from the garden on the table and fireplace mantle were filling the air with wafting, heady, pungent perfumed sweetness, such a heavenly scented aroma that I couldn’t begin to enjoy or acknowledge, touch or feel, not now. Maybe... never; I was numb at the thought of what had become of it all, my thwarted life and now another innocent sibling.

Sitting mutely at the table alone, my nerves on raw edge...no, wait; I was not alone. Those bruisers, the henchmen guards were stationed a bit away from me, and were ineptly engrossed, noisily chewing on some fatty bacon, smacking their lips and burping loudly on purpose, repugnant eyes boring into me, wearing their pistols outwardly now on their belts so I could plainly see them, to make adequately sure I knew they had them at the ready and to not try anything, that I had no choice but to be their inebriated hostage.

I ignored the grey, contorted moving energy, the negative plasmic vibrations of their souls only seen by me, blobs above their heads like rumbling storm clouds, my esoteric occult abilities sifting the hues out due to the coursing adrenaline of shock. My hands were turning to fists, wishing to furiously clock and disarm them; instead, I grasped the ornate eating utensils, for I knew they’d never tell me where Edelweiss was, and even if I tried, my weakened state even with fists and kicks would never win compared to loaded pistols.

Slowly I picked up a fork full of fluffy buckwheat that I was eating, chewed it, and swallowed, then softly coughed. Everything tasted like cardboard and made me ill, retch. I suffered a face and then pushed the upscale porcelain bowl away from me, then placed the golden-plated decorated utensil down as well, feeling sickened of it all, the disgust of it and me, a useless sozzled captive.

Movement? There was... a shadowy movement detected from around the corner, near the grand piano. I let out a breath.

Thank goodness...I finally was graced with, caught sight of sister Edel. She was slowly walking into the temporary eating area. I watched her silently as she tentatively approached the card table I was sitting at after just appearing, coming from out of nowhere, no idea what room area or passage, for I had lifted my eyes slowly and hadn’t seen that, and she quietly sat right down on the opposite side of the table from me in another chair as if dazed, rigidly. She was as if a catatonic spelled zombie, even worse than...me. She hadn’t gotten out. She hadn’t escaped...

Why was she-? She was still in her bathrobe and nightclothes, which she was wearing from the night before. She seemed as if in hazed stupor-shock, drained in pallor. Had she been sedated too? What had happened? Had she been so upset that she hadn’t even showered or changed yet? My gaze flitted to more distressing, discerning changes about her appearance...

There appeared to be red, angry rake marks, bruises etched on her neck...and two odd puncture wounds there, as if she had fought off and partaken in targeted violence, a struggle, and clawed scratches on her fingers, and wrists...?

I shuddered. The fire of her spirit and brazen heroic glints in her eyes... were gone. The golden vibrant sparkles of healing heart energy about her had absolutely vanished, as did the pink aura haze. Now, the etheric energy was muddled, just murky muzzy dirt yellow and reddish wavering painful energy streaks like raised welts...as if auric, bleeding scratches.

I stood up, across and above her nervously.

"Fräulein Edelweiss...bitte, graces, are you all right? I couldn’t search to find you, the... guards, they had me doped up... bitte, bitte please answer, please say something-what can I do, what has happened?" I barely whispered deeply, shivering, leaning over towards her. She seemed as if she had been physically attacked and had viciously defended herself...

Edelweiss mutely darted her eyes towards me, again like a zombie, graced a terrible, awful, tormented face, shook her head, blinked as if in slow motion, and then quickly gazed off and away... would not look at me, avoiding my tormented stare, ignoring me, making sure I couldn’t search her eyes for clues...

She started to weep quietly, just sitting as a statue, unmoving. I flew over, and knelt at her side to console her, blocking her from those henchmen guard’s view. I shot a look at the guards standing near the fireplace, feeling my blood run hot...

"Can’t you just leave us for even one single moment? I  hoarsely steamed and piped up to them. Have you no honor of privacy or  decent conscience?"

The guards merely glanced at each other, rolling their cold eyes, then back to me, sniggering, and strolled just a tiny tad bit away towards the kitchenette door near the bottom of the stairwell, where a cooking cranny nook kitchenette was behind a door, most likely placed there just for the servants, and they just stood over there, shrugging, not caring at all, ignoring my plea like organic robots, half turning their backs as if that was making for any privacy, muttering, scoffing. It was insultingly awful, not allowing any personal space. I with care wandered my gaze nervously over again to Edel.

"Sister, Edel, please, please say something; why are you–bitte, love, look at me, I whispered, tensely Please, I beg you tell me what happened, what can I do? Stay here, with me, don’t leave, I pleaded to her. Don’t go anywhere now without me."

I took her hand within mine; it was cold and taut, full of scratches, and I softly stroked it. Edelweiss snatched it away from me, stood up, and backed off, turned away, refusing to look at me.

"Entkommen; Get away,"  she growled.

She snuck a look at the guards, ticked her head, then to me, hotly, as if warning me to stay away from her.

"What have I done?" I contritely whispered.

"YOU,-have done nothing, nothing. Nicht-nicht, you are innocent, was her quick, short, barely audible reply. Do not talk to me;" she curtly replied.

Why will you not even... look at me? Why are you not dressed? I rasped,  in confidence.

"Leave me be, you must- need to leave me alone! Stay avay- Lass mich; Geh weg!" she again quickly whispered, ticking her head to the guards. I still hadn’t understood...it hadn’t registered yet what she was hinting at.

"How can I do that now, no-not when I see you are ...what happened? Did-

"I said leave me alone! Geh weg! Lass mich!" She demanded, tilting her head again towards the guards, remembering what I had told her to do- it clicked then, she was doing what I had asked her to-To not show any cordial emotion towards me as if she hated me... the fake indifference; she was still trying to go along with our secret plan, even when she herself had been-but I couldn’t help it, how could I absolutely allow it, ignore her now when she-something had-she had been-

"Edel, please, no, Edel-forget it, what I said; forget the former plan we spoke of; You can’t do this alone, they will-he-Please, forget it all, what I said before, we can’t do it, that way, that plan now; just stay here with me, don’t leave my side," I jumbled out to her, as softly and quietly as I could, so very quiet so the goons couldn’t hear it. I knew now that whatever we had spoken of last night would never work to feign a ruse for an escape. It was a bust.

Edelweiss just glanced at me, quick, then away. She shot a glare at the guards, shook her head, then bolted, ran over to the stairwell, and raced up the stairwell which led to my turret suite and others in that long hall floor, galloped up the stairs, the ones I always would climb, and she did it so fast she was already out of sight.

I knew, then, that...she too was a tortured prisoner here as well, that the guards would now continually follow her, and one did-up the stairs; that they now had moved whatever she had brought with her or some belongings of hers to the upstairs hall wing I was in, I knew it, somewhere, could sense it,  most likely into the room she had picked to sleep in last night.

I turned, and attempted to follow, running up the stairwell halfway and should have caught up to her,-but this stinging, shooting, stabbing pain in my head surged as if I had been shot there, it zinged and seared my senses, and I faltered at the stair rail, holding onto it, stumbling down to my knees, trying to keep myself upright, and I honestly couldn’t.

I fell slowly to my knees from the welted pain, the stabbing jolts, holding my head, moaning softly. It was coming again, another premonition vision...most likely aggravated by the drugs they had injected into me.

Edelweiss had figured out why they were so painful and explained it wasn’t the inherited arcane paranormal gift causing the pain, it was some form of concussion damage... some physical issues from my former beatings...which were too numerous to mention. I shut my eyes tight from the searing agony of it, and I was forced to watch it play out; it erupted in front of me as if watching a 3-D movie, a live-action drama...

I witnessed lights undulating...or were they flashing, in and out, orange-yellow-red wavy lights? Shadows and heat ebbing, flaring, flashing as if roaring...it was a hot, raging fire; it was all about, sounds of popping heat, and crackling wood, flickering flames ... the smell of richly burning and smoldering tapestries, of ancient rugs and drapes being consumed.

It was The Schloss Mansion villa manor, parts of the Schloss were in hellish flames, on fire, and at night. And Master Ulrich? I spotted Master Ulrich, who lay on the floor next to the piano and near an open heirloom antique roll-top desk; he was face down, unmoving. Something seemed to be sticking up, out from his back; There was blood oozing from his side... I heard the sound of Edel’s voice frantically echoing faintly, calling, screaming my name...

she was barely heard over the heated crackling flames and thick smoke; I glanced upward, and Edel was in the center of the staircase trying to come down through the smoke and crackling flames surrounding her. I barreled, charged up to fetch her...

...A huge portion of a charred wooden-planked, richly carved wall of the stair banister, part of the huge stairwell, and even some of the ceiling above or behind it caved, crumbled, came crashing tumbling all down in front, in back, all around me...

Then it was gone, all in a flash, just leaving me in woozy incompetence. I very slowly, carefully pulled myself back up to stand, legs feeling as if rubber bands, almost giving out once more. Someday, it would all come true-they all have, and I could never stop them. It was ominous, blazing... they never go away.

I stood, and falteringly dragged myself down the stairs for I was closer to the lower floor than the upper, and over towards the grand piano, near the stained glass window doors of the Solarium rose garden, head still spinning, sitting down upon the bench to gain my bearing. I noticed that there was music propped up on the playing stand right in front of me. The guards watched me, intrigued, yet did... nothing. Just watched me.

The music on the piano was my Symphony Di Eirloom, the project piece that I had been working on since my incarceration, it was also stashed in my backpack which they also carted over here. Incredibly, Cassie must have secretly snatched that, too. I had wondered where it had wandered off to. The written music score had been missing, my symphony copy work for about a month. And a bit away and to the side... I noticed that antique roll-top desk... the very one and same that I had just foreseen in that now-faded vision of the flaming future.

I in my disadvantaged state warily caught sight of Ulrich, who was slowly swaggering his way into the makeshift dining area, crossing past the eating table. He was egressing out of the kitchenette nook doorway with an enormously huge ‘guard’ right behind him.

The guard-henchman stopped, near the doorway, but Ulrich moved in closer towards me, actually behind and hovering above, holding a sweet strudel pastry to his lips and eating it, holding an expensive wine goblet that the goon was filling with wine. He slurped that too.

He looked down upon the music from over my shoulder. He was so close I could hear his teeth munching, moist lips smacking, and smelt the sugary vanilla icing on the pastry and exotic wine aroma. I fought back the upsurge of nausea.

I felt like flying up and choking Strudel and knocking the wine goblet out of his vulgar mouth and grasp...but I didn’t even have that strength left due to my surprise malady and the after-effects of the premonition state. So I sat there, stewing, ignoring him, calculating what he was about to do next, as I, and to wisely regain my bearings.

Hmph- vell vell vell, look at zat; A Full-on symphonic project all written, notated out on ze music staff; It’s not bad, Marcus, not bad at all; you are feverishly vorking on a full Symphony already, every single instrument eh? I didn’t decide to attempt zat till I vas...oh, about twenty-five; aren’t you just full of surprises, mein prodigy sohn? You aim rather high, zat is challenging und audacious of you, even in your ailing tormented ill health; I see...you had some sort of an episode on the stairwell; tch tch; I’d give you a pain reliever but-ach...didn’t we just do Zhat helpfully strong sedative overnight? It gave you much-needed rest. I must confess...I do commend your relentless determination!

Ulrich vainly chuckled out, chomping the strudel, and continued...

"I see zat Cassie grabbed und stole zat project of vork from you too; I heard her trying to play the piano partition of it earlier down here, and must have mistakenly left her copy out. Vell, you did permit her, ja? She told me you gave her rights to your written poetry; It is exceptionally gut, nett, so ruefully pedestal romantic; she showed some of it to me; oh...I see; Your face dramatically changed at zat comment; did I... mention something private and personal I shouldn’t have?  About romance und your feelings? Sorry, you are not feeling vell again. You should take better care of yourself. Ve only give you ze best hilfe and nourishment here; ve can’t force you to eat properly, as ve do almost everything else to hilfe your inebriated state to ease you along," He inclined, still chomping on the sticky strudel, mooching and licking his fingers, scoffing sadly with a burp after a swig of his wine goblet. He must have just caught and seen my dizzy spell and was capitalizing on using it as his centerpiece to converse with me.

I turned about to gaze, and peer up at him, quickly, once again trying to with intensity connect and find any covert information from him, to secretly with the hypnotic ability to read his eyes. He lowered them effectively, unfortunate for me. I couldn’t glean anything.

"Seems you have blessedly inherited more than just my stellar physical schon looks." He snidely added, with another snarky scoff.

He was just idly, flippantly making fiddle-faddle nondescript small talk with me, craving more interaction to satiate his bombastic pride after what had gone down last night? After how he- He was insane. Wonky nutter detestable bonkers, living within his own created convoluted enforced reality.

"I certainly pray that is all I have inherited from you, Sir," I softly whispered with tinged rue, holding back my questions to him about Edel, for I knew it would be in vain to ask him, to breach, bring up the subject unless he mentioned it, and he I know was just baiting me to ask him, goading me to do it so he could bask in his fetid glory and create another outlandish demented obscene scene to shine in.

I wasn’t going to go there...not...yet. I had to keep my wits and strategy....yet I knew he would finagle it regardless.

I shakily stood, gaining bearings, and backed off, to walk up the staircase slowly, hoping I would make it up to the top this time without fainting or breaking my neck, and without another sudden outbreak of a vision to create my already weakened state, that so I could somehow finally find Edelweiss on my own, wherever he had stashed her or where she had run to. Those hulking guards followed me.

Vhere are you going? Questioned Ulrich, as he watched my departure so innocently and blandly. It made me want to- 

I turned, bristled at his voice, and stared at him intensely, even with a glint of...agreeably and shockingly true malice, the first time I had ever incited and ignited, graced a look as that, and inwardly honestly felt it. I honestly felt the festering hate. There was this frightening pause from me. I... frightened myself, my intentions, and my thoughts...they were dark, growing darker, steaming, and I felt almost unable to check them. I clenched my jaw so hard I felt the sharp twinge. My hands were turning into fists and cracking. It was that same boil that had festered whence I had confronted Mr. Raze...

And I remembered, remembered what Tony had told me, regarding him. That I had a part of him, a part of Tony with me, forever, and I knew then what he finally meant by it. It was his life, his blood, his spirit now coursing throughout my arteries and veins, entwined with mine, and that part of him was starting to shield me, fortify, mingle with me, awaken to save me...

I despised myself for feeling it, for what I was thinking, but it was needed, the symbiotic occurrence to get me through it, to conquer my festering, rancid, wounded, dark, desperate past and everything tied to it. The Tony within me had started raging forth to defend me from my brokenness, because I knew I was not whole, I was not strong, as strong and fearless as Tony would have been, and as tough, and courageous, because all the vile, barbarous brainwashed conditioning of my abused past still clung within me; at least I thought so. It, the years of demoralizing conditioning had left me like a dying salmon in a shallow stream, spent after all its jumping up the waterfalls, suffocating.

I could forgive this despicable desperado of a man who called himself my father, but I didn’t have to allow myself to be beaten by him emotively. He did not have to win and kill my soul. If I had survived this far into it all, it wasn’t in vain. I could fight. I had to. They... my family, my now-known siblings, all of them, loved me, and would all want me to fight. Fight for whatever sanity and deserved freedom I had left.

I slowly fingered the gifted, golden cross necklace upon my neck, then swallowed.

I cleared my throat the way he, Master Ulrich did, loudly and outlandishly, like last night, to imitate him sarcastically and on purpose. If he thought I was his younger clone, I’d voraciously in farce give it to him and more, as much as I possibly could at this point. So I did my best and threw out to him the scandalously silly dialogue he craved to hear and more.

"Where am I going, Sir Graf? Ah, no, sorry, I meant Count...Dracula, I wryly punned, addressed him purposely and with a high sarcasm I never used, Ah, yes; ze Count Dracul must be revered. Oh, excuse, bitte, but you know I can’t help myself, you see, for as you’ve pointed out in truth of my condition, I’m barmy on the crumpet, an imbecile of daft dotty lunacy; I’m perpetually wonky nutters, A run-amuck, brain-screwy, cracked familial fey; pardons for the flub flimsy mistake of verbosity so... you must pardon, forgive me, such a gracious, grand-arsed merciful host you are and have been to me during this enforced stay. I should be grateful that you were to just open your private, moldy, flying rodent-infested, drafty crafty cringy cobwebbed Castle and allow me to fester and swoon, all drugged up here; I’m sure Willard, Ben, and Socrates will show up to join my feeble minion battalion, they’d be great allies. Wouldn’t want to get on their bad adversary side. But, well, I just can’t seem to find any... mirrors or crosses around as of late, or...reams of garlic; they are quite scarce. But I understand why you’d keep them away. I’m sure the shiny expensive black coffin you sleep in though is also lined in puffy pillowed black satin, eh? Full of your birth province dirt? All comfy and cozy? I didn’t seem to get a coffin, nope, not for me; I’m not as you are. You must be hiding them, the mirrors and the crosses...besides this one, I keep always on my neck? It seems to be doing its job. The garlic... would help with seasoning all the over-boiled bland meals now given, seems they all wind up tasting like cardboard as of late."

I coughed with exaggeration to feign sickness (even though it was real) and placed the cross under my white workout tank top, then bowed to him stiffly, slowly, and deeply as if confronting royalty with airs...and kept at it, bombarding him with the glory of stuffed shirt sarcasm best I could.

" ...Count Himmel, mind the grease, I am going upstairs, traveling to my corrosive chamber