Part 6: Joe's Balls Against the Dark Forces of the Hungarian Count
Somewhere in the basement beneath the White House, a cavern filled with blood sucking reptiles, transfusion machines, and giant ass vacuums exists to host the darkest creature on the planet
Biden and Agent Little took the service elevator down to the subway access floor, and then walked through a long corridor to a steel plated hatch with no hinges and no handles.
Little stared at the door, and then looked at Biden. “Okay, Chief, what’s the magic word?” Little looked at the Agents who were waiting back down near the service lift, all of them kitted out in SWAT gear and ballistic shields, and shrugged at them.
Biden grinned. “Dog-faced Pony Solider.” The steel door suddenly slid upwards, revealing a cavernous tunnel. There was a weird glow coming from inside, and the temperature was elevated. The place felt like a volcanic vent.
Little repeated the password into his wrist mic, and got a thumbs up from the Agents standing by. “Good to go, Chief.”
“Okay, in we go. Just stay on the main path. There’s crazy shit that jumps out at you, just ignore it.” Biden stepped in and pointed down the tunnel. “He’s down there. Just don’t shoot at him, it makes him shit his pants, and you don’t want to see what he’s been eating. Smells like old ladies.”
The two men walked into the tunnel and Biden strode confidently ahead. “Haven’t been in here since 2015. The Carmichaels come in here all the time to feed the guy, he usually sticks with live chickens and baby ducks, but lately they’ve been feeding him iguanas from Florida. He’s sort of a lizard now, apparently. The full moon is coming, which means it’s transfusion time.”
“Transfusions? Like human blood?” Agent Little grimaced. “So is this guy really a human or some kind of space lizard? I always thought he was weird looking. He looks like a toad.”
“Oh, he’s human, alright, but he’s been alive so long that he’s falling apart. But wait till you see who else is down here. It will all make sense.” Biden smiled. “All these fuckers are in on this stuff, ever wonder where those little twit pages from the Congress go after hours? This is it. Soda Blood Central, right here. Live bloodfests every night.”
Little looked like he was going to vomit. “Man, not my thing.”
They reached the end of the tunnel and looked into a large cavern, which was glowing from the light of several fire pits belching out steam and sulphur. Biden went over to the wall and took down a pair of garbage can lids, and then, like a symphonic performer, bashed them together several times. “It’s feeding time! Feeding time! The kiddies are here!”
Instantly in the back of the cavern they saw what looked like a large reptile slither off the wall and scamper over to the edge to the entrance to the tunnel, which was barred off. The thing reared up and extended its wings until it was fully visible. Its eyes were bright red, and its fangs were dripping saliva. It burped once, and then it opened its mouth like a seal at the zoo waiting to be tossed some fish. Instead, Biden tossed in a couple of hunks of fizzy rocks, which immediately expanded in the thing’s mouth and foamed all over him.
“Ha! Fooled you, you ass tool. How’s the room service down here?” Biden looked around. “Wow, your cave looks fabulous. Where you keep the bags of blood?”
The creature just squirmed a bit until a human head popped up out of a fold in the creature’s chest, his deep eastern European accent slurring out of its sideways mouth. “Bideeene. What are you doing down here? I didn’t expect to see you out of your jammies. Where’s my dinner? And who’s that big dude with you?”
“That’s my cousin, Rufus, he’s a gator hunter from Alabama. I told him I wanted a pair of lizard skin shoes, he came down here to size you up.” Biden looked a Little sideways. “What do you say, Rufus?”
Little frowned. “I don’t know, he looks a little pale. Maybe some exercise would perk him up.” Little lifted up a crucifix from his pocket and the Count instantly shied away from it, screeching like a scalded cat.
“Okay, Georgie, it’s time to cough up some stuff. The entire coup squad is out to lunch. It’s up to you to jump through hoops. What do you say?” Biden held up a package of chicken nuggets with barbeque sauce, and the Count quickly came toward the steel grill, his clawed hands reaching through the grill. “Who’s behind all of this shit, and how do you fit in?”
Several weird appendages suddenly grew out of the monster’s body, some of them flailing around like they were caught in a wind storm, some of the gyrating like a belly dancer, and some of them giving Biden the finger. The Count’s head began to tilt around like a dashboard hula girl, swishing from side to side.
“Aaagghhh, wwhhaaaa. You suck, Bideeene. Never goink to tell you anythink,” the Count said as the head sunk back into its orifice.
“Wow,” Agent Little said, “this guy is really freaking out. Maybe we should ask the guy up there.” They both looked up to see what appeared to be a giant bat hanging upside down from the craggy ceiling of the cavern.
“Georgie, who’s your friend? Is that food or a bunk buddy?” Biden looked at the weird bat-like body swaying around. “Hey, you, douchebag, get down here. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
The big thing unfolded its wings and then quickly jumped down and landed on the cave floor, and then reared its head and then hissed loudly. “I will eat you.”
Agent Little stepped forward. “Hello, ass-wad. You look like two pairs of mukluks to me. Size thirteen. What do you say, Chief?”
“Whoa, Klaus, I didn’t recognize you with that freaking water buffalo head over your face. What are you doing in there? Jesus, you look like hell. Who have you been eating?” Biden lifted up the little box of chicken nuggets and moved it back and forth.
“I want blood. I need blood. Bring me some girl scouts. Blood, blood, blood.” Klaus lifted off and flew around the cavern, the other bats screeching as he went.
“What the fuck was that, a high school football cheer?” Biden looked at Agent Little. “Are we going to get any answers out of these guys, or should we just bring in the flamethrowers?”
The Count growled. “If you kill us, you’ll never know the truth.”
Biden frowned. “About what?”
The Count smiled. “About the Kenyan. Who he really is.”
Biden and Little looked at each other, and then broke out laughing. “Ha, you retards, we know all about it. What else you got?”
The Count writhed around for a moment. “Haiti.”
Biden stopped. “Haiti. You mean the Carmichael’s compound?”
“Dark magic there. Lots of sacrifices. Lots of death.”
“This may be worth holding off on the Hungarian goulash,” Biden said.