More Beasties: Porchester Manor

Gottfried Porchester was beside himself with worry…



He felt as though the responsibilities of the world, if not the heavens themselves, rested upon his very shoulders. Poor, poor Gottfried, the good Lord Himself had not equipped him for a time such as this.

Tsk, tsk, my dear, ruminated Winston, this measure of thought imbues one with a spirit of outright despondency my love, and ought not be part of one’s distinctive voculization, least of all yours.

You are a Porchester after all!

So, take heart, lift up your head and “press onward to the mark, the high calling of”…


And so of course, Great Uncle Winston was right, and I shan’t keep this forlorn reverie for well, for not even one moment longer.

As if in direct response to Winnie’s silent ruminations, a Beastie of most unusual proportions, burst forth through the challenged walls of old South Castle Ruins.


All thought seemed to stop in the moment. Greimageat Uncle Winston’s mustache seemed to wilt and lean off to one side. Poor Gottfried himself, proceeded to collapse in the corner of the room, drawing his hand down the wall in a semi conscious, stacatto like fashion.

I, myself chose to break the bonds that sought to bind me to a fate like so many others seemed to have grasped, if only by default mind you. But this, this vestal Beastie best get out of my way for – chop chop. Down it went, slithering off into a proverbial pile of, well dungy poo.





As the dusty remains of the undead dead, fell through the night, I, myself returned to semblance of grace and dignity that dear Auntie Alice had taught to me,before she herself went to the great beyond, to meet her maker.

So then, I rested in my most natural repose!


~ by Vinnie on March 16, 2015.

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