Cold Blood

By Jason Hurlburt

The novel Cold Blood was written in 2012, and this is the third edition of this science fiction novel. Ed Gein and Norma Shearer have adventures in this novel, in the gloomy future of earth. They are immortal vampires who live on a dead planet. They commit crimes. Other celebrities plot against each other. The world's biggest monster is a part of this novel, namely, Mickey King Kong. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jason Hurlburt
• Release date: Sep 23, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215144756

Jason Hurlburt

Jason Hurlburt is a theoretical physicist. He writes papers on physics. He is a novelist and a poet. He was born in Binghamton, New York, and he resides in Endicott, New York. He has written the following books: The Trillionaire, Cold Blood, Herstory, Beasts of Prey, Hurlburt’s Constant, Mae Clarke Overdrive, Alla Nazimova in Googolplexnaire, The Psilanthropist, Frozen Fly, The Smallest Oasis, To Lie or Steal, Etc., Monkey Engine, Big Bang Hole, Needless Scorn, Hurlburt Effect, Hurlburt’s Rule, Hurlburt’s Law, Torque of Universe, and Thermal Volume.  

Book preview

1 GRETA GARBO EYES

All the copies of The Great Gatsby were destroyed. The last Wellses were murdered in supermagically Fitzgeraldesque cold blood, by a cult ran by anti-Italian, anti-Oriental, anti-Hispanic, anti-Semitic, and antiblack Ted, Terry, and Adolf Weems, the triplets, who were the illegitimate sons, were the sons of T. J. Weems (key figure of Aurora, Texas spacecraft crash), and they were creatures, akin to Dracula.

The Weemses were vampires, of Youthland, Bulletland, Birdland, Newtland, Fishland, Mineralland, Ginzoland, Orangeland, Salamanderland, Lizardland, Dragonland, Dinosaurland, Dogland, Wolfland, Werewolfland, Earthland, Airland, Waterland, Fireland, Childland, Babyland, Fetusland, Embryoland, Boyland, Idiotland, Micland, Magicland, Gunland, Washingtonland, Swordland, Bilboland, Niggerland, Spicland, Retardland, Gookland, Guinealand, Swastikaland, Satanland, Luciferland, or Hymieland.

They murdered bands, of Moneyland, including: Centillionaires, Multicentillionaires, Millionaires, Nonillionaires, Octillionaires, Googolnaires, Septillionaires, Sextillionaires, Duodecillionaires, Novemdecillionaires, Quindecillionaires, Guinea Popes, Kikish Rabbis, Barbara Streisands, Nigger Michael Jacksons, Alanis Morissettes, Norma Shearers, Norma Shearer, Moira Shearers, Joe Shusters, Kurt Cobains, Billy Wilders, Eminems, Frank Sinatras, Elvis Presleys, Joey Ramones, Syphilis Presleys, Elvis Costellos, Axl Roses, Napoleon Bonapartes, Lady Gagas, Bob Dylans, Slob Dylans, Billy Idols, Johnny Depps, Guinea Didos, Madonnas, Kylie Minogues, William Shakespeares, Adolf Hitlers, Sid Viciouses, and David Bowies.

They were fed blood of kikes and Hymie virgins, in their youths. They ate Martin Arrouge, the former husband of Norma Shearer. They lived on the moon, the only celestial body, in the cosmoses. They murdered their parents, using an accidental death, and covered up and impersonated their father, habitually, until they used an orchestrated disappearance. Tex Weems paid Jennifer Jones to swallow his come and sleep in his trunk, he made, from oak, which he drowned teenage girls, in, more than a thousand, for the love of Twiggy.

Nixonomics had been challenged by Coolidgenomics, which attacked Fordnomics and Nixonomics, oppositely, for opposite and identical Uncle Tomism, and the two economics were prone to superbigotry and prejudice for Greeks. The economics of Robert Lucas, Jr. had been made into Lucasnomics, which was entrapped in superquagmire of Uncle Tomism, devoid of Robert Lucas, Jr., ideally.

Kimberly Conrad consumed Marilyn Monroe’s blood, murdering pregnant mothers, for Twiggy, who snorted heroin, off the shrunken head of Angelina Jolie, who’s shrunken head, they called Gookgelina, which was in a guineaoholicproof, guineaproof vault. Kimberly Conrad fed the final gooks to the world’s biggest ichthyoid, amongst other mare’s-tails. This ichthyoid, a caribe, ate all the other ichthyoids, including all the sharks, caribe, sturgeon, and all other kinds. This ichthyoid became the last one of them. There were no more fish, today, except this one, named Rodon. They and Teddy Mouse filled the shrunken head with holelets, burning a little heroin and spray-paint and whiffing the fumes. Teddy Mouse was one of the mouse people, from Planet of the Mice or Mouseland. He took heroin, in the scrotum, and broke syringes, off. Ted called Terry, Mr. Nigger Lips, and Ted kept a dead black cat, in a bag of Comet and other things, like rat poison and rats’ brains, listening to NC, or Nigger Cooks. This bag was used for shrunken heads and guineas’ brains. And this cat had scars from Ronosol and Comet, and this bag was carefully used to get the Jesus-teethed gist of the skunk-teethed fix of the Hymie-teethed, guinea-teethed concoctions of Comet cleaner. These days Adolf Weems would do glue, spray-paint, rat poison, and comet, using the new culinary sensation: McWhoppers, based on the Nigger and McGookmurai. This singular sandwich, of McIntyre’s, sold more than a quintillion, in more than a hundred years, after the bankruptcies of all other fastfood chains, after quikiefood or prontofood had been invented, which was food which was faster than the fastest fast food, and it wasn’t based on perpetually endless scuttlebutt of B. F. Skinner, J. D. Salinger, and restaurants. Salingerland was this movie, but the television series Starwing beat it, habitually, and Starwing was a spaceship occupied by evil vampires, who were enemies of space werewolves and space zombies. Hence, the connected movies: Space Lycanthropes, Space Werewolf, Space Dolls, Space Neanderthals, Space Vampire, Space Zombie, Space Robots, Space Blob, Space Apes, Space Clones, and Space Zombies. Neanderthals inhabited Mars, underneath the soil, and now, Neanderthals were extinct, for they were killed off with germbombs, by Maldekians. Neanderthals didn’t evolve much, before they were all killed off. Originally, they were thought to die out, long before America had been coined, as a word. Wereturkeys weren’t space turkeys, and they both got along. A few humans and other organisms were able to unconsciously alter their shapes, becoming wereturkeys, at points. The biggest turkey was a wereturkey, who drank Mia Farrow’s blood. She blew it. This man always met her as a turkey or a wereturkey. He was ashamed of his human form.

He was a supertrain robber, a former singer of Megamegadeath, whose lead singer was Axl Manson. Another band, Halloween, had this lead singer Axl Cobain. Dracula was a big, big band, where the lead singer had been Hymie Rose. Axl Roses had the lead singer Kurt Rose. The Kurt Cobains had the lead singer Heath Manson. The Alec Baldwin-esque band Alec Baldwins was the biggest dealio, and the lead singer was Axl Baldwin. The two bands Joan Hacketts and Shirley Mansons peddled hit songs named Garbage. The Natalie Portmans had a lead singer, who wrote Closets. The Trent Reznors did the megahit album Delroy Uzi Edwards. Big Stupid caught on, doing Norma Shearer Celluloid. So, the big band, Frank Sinatras wrote the album Skunk. Amadeus was a band, and Millions of Dead Kurt Cobains hit it big time. Ice G, had been the rapper of the century, he was partly worse than MC Ice. So, the Adam Sandlers was a vampire band, who smoked crack and defied the police, wearing swastikas and writing the hit song Thought Experiment. Speed and MC Nail did these songs Worthless, Epinephrine, Hot Dog, Acid, Useless, and Hymen. The bands Nigger Jokes and Nigger Lips amounted to something, minutely, singing such hits, as Absolutely, Guinea. The Heath Ledgers was a big, big dealio, writing hit songs: Get the Fuck Out, Shut the Fuck Up, Fucking Buck Up, Fucking Shove It, Fucking Beat It, Beat It, Stupid, Sit the Fuck Down, Wop’s Puppets, Mr. Mouth, and Shut Your Fucking Mouth. Danse Macabre was a band, too, and the lead singer was Axl Hilton. Another band was Insecticide—the lead singer was Axl Shearer. The antifuckhead was an antifuckwit, from an invisible ice planet, in the past, named Jerry Pickford, a president clone of Jerry Hall, a Jerry Hall-esque fellatioholic. Kirkie Douglas and Rodie Serling were superstars, who inconsistantly superhaggled, superinversely and superdichotomously, and superpartly and superminutely, making a bitch of the phaser and superphaser, superobviously, and superpensively.

Antichristism sold to Europeans, mostly, which meant a synonym of anti-Semitism. The Antichrist was a matter of youth filching Hebrews, entirely.

Million was another fucking band, who had the hit songs: Norma Shearer Eyes and Nigger Sucker. Frankenstein was another band, and the lead singer was Shirley Shearer. Blind Toadies wanted discerning Americans to agree with their habits in corporate welfare and mare’s-tail. So, the Big Something sold, good, akin to a good, good movie, resembling the best pictures: Citizen Garbage and Mr. Garbage. The Swedish Norma Shearers was a cult band, who sang the hit songs Mr. Nothing, Lord of the Flies, Mr. Syphilis, Merry Syphilis, and Bette Davis. Jim Morrisons did Electric Chair, a supermasterpiece, superbludgeoning and supermangling the competition. The band of the century was Hobo—Bum was their first album, and they did the songs Riff-raff, Mr. Fire, Mr. Maggot, Mr. Monster, Mr. Shithead, Mr. Stupid, Mr. Mikey, and Rufus Rhino.

The Sharon Stones was murdered by neo-Nazis from Coney Island, who made a point of shrinking her head, after they made her disappear. They were the Bugger Monster Ghoulies.

The Ulrike Meinhofs had a gas shower hooked up. They finally wrote Swastika, the best album, in decades. Lie detection reflected Hymie-teethed, buck-toothed icons could be rejected socially and lawfully. The Jesus Christs was murdered, for being kike-licking sows. A man didn’t have to hire self-proclaimed, perjurious Hymies or their cronylike, blind puppets, and they were prostitute’s bitch or a blowjob’s bitch, no matter what. Lie detection reflected these mare’s-tail spewed on the legal system, perjuriously, akin to Martha Stewart, and her guineas’ puppet stage. Even Hymie Stephen Hawking could be John Harvard and Richard M. Nixon, and still he could get denounced, and had been, partly. Uncle Tom’s blind cripple was what he was, frowning on the bands named Joyce Carol Oates and Joseph Conrad, making an issue of Robert H. Dicke’s bitches, a little Hymies’ Stomper, squealing around. Hymiebert Kikenstein this ... Hymiebert Kikenstein that, and kikester’s puppet Hawking squealed akin to sow’s hymenal piglet, oh Einstein, oh Einstein, and Mr. Hymie Hawking cheated Sir Isaac Newton, the Hymiestinction or Hymie extinction—plant’s bitch of Einsteinium, a kikish attempt to thwart the Periodic Table of Elements, make a big dealio out of it, and Albert Hawking, just had this kind of touch, like a nigger marvin, swilling a kikes’ puppet’s sperm, but did he get ruined by France, plants, kikes, guineas, and menticide.

Robert H. Dickes won the most Grammy Awards, and their album Maser beat them all. So, somebody who would put them up was the thing. William Shakespeares was beat to death, by a riot. The band Riot was thing, In the 4020s the band Guns and Riots struck oil. Sucker-teethed puppets wanted got under millionfold geniuses, partly this mass was an indirect million, causing problems for opposite people, partly. The will of the people wasn’t a kikish, blind idiocy, of Uncle Tom’s imitation or Uncle Tom’s Jewification. Entrapping, paraxysmic imitations were kiddish, perjurious pollution. These kikish Catholics ripped teeth out, symbolically, to perjuriously force WASPs to perjuriously believe guinea somebody or Hymie somebody must be something to you, and they pleaded that corporate welfare was misleading, but what if Naderian Naderism wasn’t, yeah. Come on, hey, be smaller than you are, in the courtie, Mr. Hymie, was what they were drowning people in. Be a big zombie, cheat you, yes, cheat me, and cheat yourself. Those people are B. F. Skinner’s bitches, and they’re cheap gifted Catholics, be an American curl’s bitch, mister, be rudimentary subsubidiot, or be the laziest, and be a moderately perjurious subidiot or idiot, superidiot. Perhaps, somebody can be something, to you, mister. Be a joke’s bitch, and don’t tell jokes, even, yet nigger jokes are nigger jokes. You should try to make a superpope out of these popular Catholics, because they’re cheap niggers, like Schipperke’s bitches, or nigger curls. Think long and hard, wops’ zombies aren’t always owning everything they spiced, miced, eggplanted, gooked, kiked, Hymied, guineaed, wopped, or niggered. They need a fucking president to shake their diaper rash—a pathological, robot-like reflection of compounded Uncle Tomism, psychosomatically. Somebody who would just own everything, idiotically and perjuriously. These guineas’ indirect idiots were piling up, needing to perjuriously punish the WASPish youth, begging bums and schizophrenics to perjuriously worship class action, mare’s-tail, corporate welfare, and nepotism. Anti-Italianism sort of put the wops down, absolutely. At least anti-Italianism was a guineas’ supermendicant. The antiplantism bolstered anti-Israelism. The radio was on: it said: Let’s just hear it for Kife, the newest, best, biggest, and evilest superband, in Punk Metal. The neoplantation or neo-plantation was the plant. The band Blackness was murdered during a bombing.

Normie Shearer was bathing in blood of ponies, superfellating her son, getting off on this superfellatio or superfellation. Ms. Fellatio was one of her names, now, akin to Ms. Fellation, Ms. Gonorrhea, Ms. Buggery, and Ms. Syphilis. And she did Comet cleaner and Ronsonol on Mr. Syphilis's skull. She ate tonsils, testicles, eyeballs, clitoride, raw brains, hearts, and livers, and she had a bathtub, which was full of eyeballs, blood, and chemicals, using a cover to preserve the concocted horror. So, Catholics were idiots’ bitches. They needed to perjuriously smudge WASPs, spewing their poor little rich boys and poor little rich girls. The guinea pope’s puppets were sour million, mostly. At least Moloch wasn’t oppositely rudimentary perjury. Even anything was a bottomlessly better time—Normie blew calves, squirting their comies on her body. She had the biggest wig and the biggest crown of jewels, which had the most expensive jewels and most jewels, and she owned 20,000 limousines and 20,000 Rolls Royce cars, exactly, a concoction, not a Bradburyesque one, being an adherent of anti-Italianism. She owned the biggest castle, which she had moved the castle to a state of superupside-downness, where she watched snuff celluloid, habitually. She wouldn’t watch guineas and Hymies, because they filched the youth, entrapping and abusing it, in generations, before. Funk & Wagnalls made sure WASPs didn’t have to put up with every Tom, Dick, and wop, who thought every supericon from Heinrich Himmler to Ptolemy had to answer to them, perjuriously and idiotically, skyzooming.

The Salingerproof, Hitlerproof bigots piled up, making a supermockery of Mark Twain, T. S. Eliot, and loop-holes, loopholelets, subloopholes, quasi-loopholes, miniloopholes, or mini loopholes, which Columbia minutely and moderately made a big, big thing of, imitating quasi-dabsters, superdabsters, dabslades, superabsconder, and superbunglers. The invisible mover was perpetually the disjointed future shock of unmoved mover or prime mover, and invisible mover, unseen mover, pivotal mover, principal mover, and chief mover were synonyms of unmoved mover or prime mover. Newts somehow were altered to take over unseen mover, making an extinction of passengerpigeon, habitually. The passenger-pigeon was a vestige of the evolution of the newt, counconsciously, an expression of superhomosexuality, by barely straight Catholics, who were more homosexual than the South, indirectly, needing a suffocation of monopoly of ex post facto, which was a perjuriously entrapping article of rudimentary menticide, akin to Rolf Mengele and Revlon Makeup, in Idiotland, Savantland, Maudlinland, Hymieland, and Geniusland, on the worthlessest and worthlesser planet which was supermostly worthlessy, a guineas’ skunked hymen, supersymbolically speaking, which was a thing of Zu and Zun, imitating Lipn and Zarathrusta, so Spake sucked in Popeheads, who gnawed on prey-like supermendicants, who begged and cheated for them, guineas, and municipality mattered to Mengele’s arms, inversely, making a mockery of WASPs, so GESAD or WESAD solved problemicants, an astuteness of anti-Italianism, which protected partly antipodal WASPs, meaning Guineas Eat Shit And Die and Wops Eat Shit And Die. Catholic WASPs were partly Jewish Nazis’ Jews or niggers’ antiblackism, symbolically and inversely speaking, or Uncle Tom’s twin antipodes, lambasting Ralph Nader, Irving G. Thalberg, and identical, inverse antipodes, who were related social cancer or symbiotic maudlinism or rudimentary narcissism, excluding Popes from the blame of war crime, habitually, before, during, and after the Second Reich.

Poesque, Thoreauvian idiocy had been bovine corporate welfare, which wasn’t at all, making Excalibur’s mini mouth some kind of Cybercalibur, a big, big corporation, which made television cups, cellular phone cups, palmtop cups, computer busts, palmtop bust, television busts, television lamps, television desks, television/clock cups, cellular phone desk calendars, cellular phone desktops, cellular phone laptops, cellular phone palmtops, solar powered computers, solar powered typewriters, cybertops, and ashtray palmtop. Cybertops were partly a new kind of computer, which was a synonym of palmtop, originally. Cybertop meant desktop, palmtop, and laptop, akin to cybernaut meaning robot or cyborg. Tradecalibur made tools, which used robotics and computers, fully and partly, such as: awl levels, and cybertops, a kind of computer, of the supermaudlin Camelotland or supermawkish Excaliburland. America changed its name to Sodomland, akin to the youthfilching of Mordred, Modred, Excalibur, and Edo and more relevant things, of world history, akin to anti-Oriental. Incredibly, Michael Richards won the presidency and vice presidency, legalizing all narcotics, after he was over 1,200 years old, and he was the oldest WASP, after older super-WASPs left earth. A few joined hands in the new-fangled supersuicide machine, or the invention which might stem from the suicide machine, suicide-machine, or suicidemachine. Norma Shearer had been a lot of movies, in the 3000s, when death was ended, which was ended using cryogenic robotics, cryogenic embryology, cybernautics, cryogenic chemistry, robot chemistry, cybernaut chemistry, cybernautic robotics, and force sheilds. Thalbergesque Robotics was used for parts of cyborgs, as were computers, and vice versa. Laser nuclear power was commonplace—computerized robots were inversely utilizing relevant part/whole, imposing tickers of relevantness and relevant superreconditeness. Norma Shearer mumbly dampened superskyrocketing mummers or thespians retaliated. Thespianism, mummerism, thespianry, thespianness, or mummeriness had been thespiany, thespianish, mummery, or mummerish superhegemony, or superhegemonic, unhegemonic history. Unhegemony curved the new left, and the lefty movements were superleft, supermicroscopically. Joan Hackett-esque supernymphomaniacs were getting cloned lips, of the supercelebrity. Norma Shearer wore stockings with FUCK YOU, on them, and others with FUGLY, on them. And she wore ones with FUCK OFF, on them, and she wore ones with UP YOUR ASS, on them. She snorted heroin off a pony’s cock—smudging the pony’s cock with her lips and teeth. She pinched the tip of the penis, gently, until the come came out, and she blew baby elephants, elephantets, or elephantlets, too. She blew rhinoceruses, too. She blew baby rhinos, or rhinolets, or rhinoceruslets, too.

She had a bathtub, filled full of peacocks’ blood, and she was blowing Irving Thalberg, Jr., nigger lipsing his pubic hair, superdeepthroating him, until he spewed his nuts down her stomach. He fucked her right up the ass, and she farted and shitted on his cock, and finally, he shot a load of boiling spermies, right up her sperm-teethed or come-teethed gazongahole, buggeryhole, maryhole, skunkhole, shithole, feceshole, craphole, sodomyhole, sodomhole, syphilishole, veneralhole, nymphohole, spermhole, superhole, comehole, garbagehole, prunehole, maggothole, bughole, Hymiehole, kikehole, Jewhole, gaschamberhole, gonorrheahole, or bumhole. She was a penis-teethed or cock-teethed supermonster or megamonster. He fucked her cones, using her shit, again, snorting cocaine off her shit and titties, and they burned a nigger alive, doing Comet and Ronsonol on the nigger corpse. They had him in a trunk, and they fed him guineas for more than a decade, he was a nigger monster. They fed him all the popes, in their mothers’ stomachs, even. There were no popes, even. So, she was superhappy, feeling supergood.

She let Bessie Love blow her son, with her, and they were superhigh, being supercokers, and Bessie Love was ass humping Irving’s face off his skull—snorting his brains with her rectal nostril, and she ate his brains, symbolically, shitting and farting on his supercock or superpenis. Bessie Love was into John Thomasism, John Thomasianism, Lady Chatterleysianism, or Lady Chatterleyism. And he spanked her ass redder than the reddest devil, she wiggled her assnostril, smudging the shit, sweat, sperm, and precome, making his penis twitch, ejaculating. Snot came out of his nostrils, and she put cocaine on it, snorting up her nostrils. Normie fisted Bessie, until she squirted on and in the peacocks’ blood, and finally Bessie snorted cocaine off of Normie’s tongue and lips. Bessie smoked an English spliff, and looked pussylicious, tittilicious, superdirty, and was superdirtier, and even, Normie filched superdirtiest from her. Normie blew her son off, after sitting on his face, smudging his head with her superass, clithole, urinehole, and superasshole, making him eat her cunthole and vaginahorn, a new word for clitoris. So, pussyhorn was there too, for clitoris. The two had their gums to clitoride drenched in his superfilthy sperms, making them feel superworthless and superuseless. Normie had dentures, taking them out, she smudged her gums, all over his glans and penisnostril, or penishole, and she smudged them, delicately gnawing his penishead, using her gums, tonsils, tongue, and lips. Bessie was indulging in superonanism, using butt plug, shitting on it. Normie shat on chocolate ice cream cone, and forced Irving Thalberg, Jr. to eat it. She spanked him.

Irving swirley, Normie said, shirking a stupor of sordid stolidness, how’s your blowjobbed or blowjobed brain, and you’re a big, big comey dummy, a sign of mommy’s tonsils, and I know you don’t appreciate broccoli hairstyles, when they pile up, like frigid vegetables, supermommy, needs to clean out the stuffy comies, or the stuffed up spermotaurs or teddy spermosauruses. A kind of superthing you are is a rattraphole, you eat up the broccoli bugs, like a superanteater, and I’m the spermeater, spermicide, spermovore, and sperm impidement, for I’m special sperm, kind of, symbolically. Don’t be kikish, be a Hymie, you’re just into Moira Shearer, too much, you sperm-livered faggot, and I’ve seen the kife-teethed, faggot-teethed hymen, you are, smoking crack, too little. So, I was whipping Anne Frank. I fed her to schipperkes, later. I decided I had my fill of the Hymie. Almost cheated me, and peons took it to extremes, and those buck-toothed idiots were Greeks’ blind, idiotic puppets. Elsa Lancester had been a better celebrity than Anne Frankenkike, a tertiary float to them, and I could have done better than your kikish father. Beat him to death’s bitch to who I did. A lot of bigots in those years frowned on Canadians. So, I moved on, and for those kinds of clowns’ bitches, the shit hit the fan. Even my porn which was done by Alfred Cheney Johnston had taken that protesting float. It took Dutch Schultz, too. Crime was getting below it. Hey, Irving, give me your little shrunken guineahead, that’s a new word for Catholic, so let me blow some sense, into you.

Irving pissed up Normie’s asshole, while Bessie pissed on Normie’s hair. Normie snorted cocaine off Cecil DeMille, Maggie Smith, and Bessie’s eyebrows.

Bessie licked her lips, blowing Irving. She snorted cocaine from his teats. How do you like that Mr. Sniffer, hey Superglue, be the bum’s bitch and the bum. Mr. Sniffer, you’re a wonder dagohorn.

Normie snorted Bessie’s piss and heroin. "Be a sad, sad nigger baby. Snort the chortle, Mr. Cocaine, be Mr. Heroin, who in the hell, do you think you are’s bitch, be a skunk hymen, nigger baby. I’ve got things to do, skunkclopes. Take my biggest claw and do it to ya. They used to call a bovine Holstein, so that ruined my fame, practically, too. That Moira Shearer was a fucking prunehole. Pruneclops was the worda. But Lea Michelle ate your come, too. She was a fucking spermsaur, a fucking vacome cleaner, or something. She blew you too many times, like a thorn on a rose stem, Lea Michell-esque garbage piles up,