Thursday, September 30, 2010

Episode 2

The Hillbilly Vampire Chronicles 2
The Peasnap Uprising

by Tonto Fielding © 2010. All rights reserved.


“Buttercup, I have to find out who this could possibly be,” Mealy said to his favorite lamb.

Mealy Peasnap had in fact grown up in West Virginia, on the Kentucky border. He led a pretty average life; at least it seemed to him. His mother had no teeth (decay ravaged by Mountain Dew); none of his relatives graduated from high school, and his brother Little Bucket was caught with his half cousin, Pigfoot (called so, on account that his left foot had only two large toes, making it look like a cloven hoof) in flagrante, in the privy. Nothing out of the ordinary, for his side of the border. After all, all the uppity people were over in Kentucky.

Education and social dictates were meaningless when there was no money and thirteen people packed into a single two room shack. But Mealy made the best of the situation. He secretly learned how to read, and through his imagination the expanse of the world opened before him.

When his father and brothers and cousins were out hunting for Bigfoot (certain that it lived in the West Virginia mountains and would bring them fame and fortune) Mealy would be at the trading store reading scraps from newspapers used to wrap products (newspapers were not to be wasted on reading—they had more practical purposes, like packing stuff and wiping your butt).

Mealy’s father, Edgel, could shoot the eye out of a squirrel from a mile away. He simply loved squirrel—said it tasted just like frog, but was more tender and juicy. One time he had a bead on the mythic creature and plink, the bullet hit its target. They never found Bigfoot’s body though, when they finally scrambled up to the top of the ridge. Not long after that, Billy Ray Bob Steinberg started showing up at Temple Beth Shalom Y’all in Prestonsburg wearing an eye patch.

Sure that there was this huge world out there waiting for him, Mealy signed up for a hitch in the navy as soon as he could. Saying goodbye to the clan, he headed off to give service to his country and to discover ports unknown.

Unfortunately for him, in one of these ports (somewhere in the South Pacific) he was attacked by a prostitute in a brothel, who also happened to be a vampire. When he awoke as a vampire himself, his behavior became suspicious to the officers on his ship. Under the “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy he was quickly discharged as a fag.

Mealy was not actually a fag. But his tendency to search out lonely seamen, in hopes of draining them of their life source, got him put in the brig more than a couple of times. He had to feed on rat blood until he was deposited back in the States.

Returning to West Virginia was not an option for Mealy. He was related to practically every person within two counties of his birthplace and couldn’t stomach the notion of feeding on his own kind, so to speak.

But Mealy had heard about the hills of southern Ohio, from one of his buddies in the navy. It was full of people like him, yet also had a population of sophisticated and educated people. This appealed to him, because he had read everything that had come across his path since he learned how to read. Ohio offered the best of both worlds to Mealy.

Not sure if there were any other vampires in the area, or if there were vampire hunters around, Mealy stayed way off the grid. For a West Virginia hillbilly it was no problem at all. These were the hillbilliest of all the hillbillies on the planet (sorry Virginia and Arkansas). You could say that they were the MacGyver’s of the woods. With just a pocket knife, they could fashion any kind of structure in the deepest parts of the wilderness (and we’re talking areas never seen by hunter or Bigfoot).

For years Mealy had exclusive reign in the countryside. He fed to his hearts content on “barn critters,” as he referred to them. Why bother with stupid humans when you don’t have to?

But now, the discovery of another vampire on his turf was more than he could handle. He needed to find out who this person was. In fact he would lay a trap and catch whoever it was in the act of pilfering from his cornucopia. Oh yes, there was going to be a showdown—West Virginia style!

Gideon Chickenstalker was a four hundred pound vampire who had been raised in Athens County. He had the misfortune of being turned into a vampire, not long ago, when he ventured up to the big city of Columbus in search of pussy. It was a trip made out of desperation, because Gideon (being a virgin) had developed an addiction to having sex with warmed up cantaloupes (Cantaloupes--you might ask? When heated, a hole is cut into the melon, and well--you can guess the rest). During this mission to lose his virginity he had fallen prey to an incredibly hot professional dominatrix who was enjoying some off time in a club that catered to alternative lifestyles. Gideon had picked this club to cruise with purpose, figuring that it might have some fellow “trekkies” there (the kind of folk he could identify with). Gideon was mad about Star Trek, the original series.

The Mistress of Eternity, as she liked to call herself, at a later point tried to kill Gideon and his best friends, Amos Pecksniff and Esther Gradgrind (Esther adopted the name of Ginger Lynn, in deference to her favorite celebrity porn star), after Gideon had gotten her into hot water with the COUNCIL of vampires.

But eventually the Mistress, known to her intimates as Missy, ended up helping Gideon kill the head of the COUNSIL of vampires (initially an alliance of convenience) and as a result became another of Gideon’s close friends.

Gideon Chickenstalker shared a trailer with Esther and Amos, way out in a secluded holler. There used to be two trailers, but when the COUNCIL led an assault on the three residents (a result of an attempt to rid Gideon of his alliance with mortals), Gideon and Amos set fire to one of them in order to kill several of the blood thirsty vampires. The three now shared the one remaining trailer, which only recently was hooked up with plumbing. It was pretty much an “old school” hillbilly abode, including a cast iron stove with chimney coming out of a hole cut into the roof, as the only source of heat in the cold winter months. Pirated satellite television was their one modern convenience.

Esther was captured during the assault and a subsequent rescue was undertaken, with the help of the Mistress and Duff Durdle (former Mr. Ohio 1990). Duff was now serving the Mistress as a slave and as yet, has not been turned into a vampire.

Gideon, Esther and Amos, have been leading a life of relative peace since their last adventure. They get by with collecting bottles and cans from the county roads and selling them to recyclers for cash.

When they are not doing this, Esther is usually smoking her precious meth while Amos is passed out on the couch from drinking a fifth of vodka, and Gideon is out prowling the countryside for barn animals to drink from. He had recently tasted human blood for the very first time, when Esther whacked a trespasser over the head with a shovel and presented the limp body to Gideon to drink from.

He realized at that moment that animal blood would no longer suffice, yet his skills at accosting humans needed to be worked on. He looked to the Mistress to help him with this. In the mean time, he would drink from cows and the like until he acquired his new craft. Missy lived in Columbus and they only had the opportunity to get together during visits and go over Gideon’s designs for their new line of latex fetish attire. Gideon had discovered a hidden talent of designing clothes during a conversation he had struck up that one time, when she had come to Athens to kill him, dressed in her dominatrix get-up.

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

The Hillbilly Vampire Chronicles 2

by Tonto Fielding © 2010. All rights reserved.


Episode 1

Mealy Peasnap strode into the Bilderback Family Farm barn with the carriage of enfranchisement. If you were to judge him by appearance (Liberty overalls and the piece of straw hanging from his lip) you would have certainly guessed that Mealy was the owner of this barn. He moved about with authority and purpose.

Mealy talked to the animals with familiarity, addressing many by the pet names he had bequeathed upon them.

“How’s Bessie--been missing me old girl?” he said while patting the heifer on her hind rump in passing. “Sorry, but not tonight sweetheart—I’m in the mood for a little lamb, this evening.”

The cow turned and gave him a look.

Mealy was actually an intruder. This was a clandestine visit, yet he felt as if this stable was his own domain.

Approaching Buttercup, his favorite lamb, Mealy exposed his anticipatory fangs. But when he was about to extract some of Buttercup’s oh-so-sweet blood, he noticed two holes in her neck. They were not evidence of his previous visits. The holes were too far apart to have been his.

“What in damnation is going on here?” Mealy blurted out. He was completely caught of guard.

“There’s another vampire about. There has to be!” he announced to all the critters. “I can’t believe it. Someone is poaching on my turf. NO! NO!” he screamed, and then stopped himself abruptly, fearing he might awaken the Bilderback’s.

Mealy Peasnap was, as he believed, Athens County’s only vampire. He roamed the hills and hollers during the bewitching hours of the night with impunity for so long that the thought of competition for animal exsanguinations had not crossed his mind in quite some time.

Mealy had long ago given up on searching out human blood. He was, what some might consider, the personification of the hillbilly--a caricature. He did not posses any of the social skills that would help him get close enough to potential victims. Even the rural folk would tell him to go back to West Virginia before he could strike up a conversation.

It is so hard to bewitch someone with the vampire-come-hither-whammy stare when you are repulsed from the get-go. The attack from out-of-the-blue never worked for him either. Mealy was thin as a bean pole and could pretty much be swiped away like a mosquito. Hence the unhindered freedom of sucking to his hearts content from any and all the livestock in the county for sustenance suited him to a tee.

This can’t be!--centered his delirium. Oh, Buttercup, who has been drinking from my little angel? Probably one of those crazy city slicker vampires--you know the type--all eye liner and oil in their hair. You’re lucky he didn’t drain you. Nobody knows how much blood you can give up without dying, but me.

What would one of those wicked city vampires be doing here in the Appalachian hills of Ohio? There are no groupings in this area. The closest one is based in Columbus and even they don’t know about me. I think they call themselves the COUNCIL. I’ve hidden myself too well. No! No, they couldn’t have found me here.

The only answer—is that there is a usurper (a word he had learned and now had the chance to use. He had many more like this, if only he had the chance). Oh my goodness! Another vampire in Athens County!

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Tonto's Picks for Hot Babes of Vampire Movies

Sunday, September 26, 2010

Thursday, September 23, 2010

Not Just Another Pretty Face

What ever happened to the great FACES of comedy. Frankly, they simply don't exist anymore. Here are W C Fields, Buster Keaton, Ben Turpin, Burt Lahr, and Joe E Brown.

Wednesday, September 22, 2010


October is coming, and Tonto says that he is looking foward to the color changes in the leaves.

He is such a LIAR!

Jail Tats on Tots

I was born and raised for a short time in Khamti, a Burmese prison.

At an embassy dinner, the ruler at the time told a joke that went some thing like, “Are you familiar with the joke about the American, Englishman, and Burmese who had a bragging competition? The first one boasted about how an American swam across the English Channel without any arms, the second boasted about how an Englishman climbed Mt. Everest without any feet, and the third one WON the contest when he boasted that Burma is being ruled by dictator with NO brain.” Nobody was supposed to laugh, if they knew what was best for them. But Dad, lost in translation, thought the punch line was, “What, and give up show business?!" He let out a belly laugh. Everybody else just stared at him.

We made our escape from Khamti, when I was about six, when father essentially duped a guard when he said, “Hey, look over there,” and stuck a homemade knife into his neck--and off we went in the tunnel he had dug while on laundry duty.

Monday, September 20, 2010

No Regrets

Life is too short to repine the STUPID moments. Like when I laughed all the way through a movie, like Robert De Niro in Cape Fear. I must have had a half fifth of Old Turpentine in me. The louder I got the lower in the seat my cousin sank.

Sunday, September 19, 2010

Wrestling Sensation Toby MacTavish

Wrestling sensation Toby MacTavish is taking the Sumo world by storm. Nicknamed the “Snarling Chihuahua,” here he is seen before he throws Yokozuna “Big Tuna” Kaito from the doyho. When asked about his new found fame, he answered, “what can I say, the ladies love me.”

Thursday, September 16, 2010


French Foreign Legion

I remember the time I went AWOL from the French Foreign Legion. In fact, I was in contract talks about movie rights (after regaling my stories one night at a poker game at Spielberg's house), but got cold feet when they hinted at changing my character to a woman (to be played by Sherilyn Fenn, in a Lifetime movie) who escapes from an abusive husband at a Beaches Resort in Negril, Jamaica, instead of the scorpion infested dunes of El Oued.

Colorful Past

I have a resume that could only be called, colorful. I have had many different jobs, some of which I’d rather forget. I guess you could call me, what Winston Churchill termed, “a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enchilada.”

Here is a picture of me during my short stint as a bandit in the Sierra Madre’s.

Friday, September 10, 2010

Get Educated Dumb Asses

I gots my degree, I suggest you all do the same. I'm sick and tared of having to correct y'all all the damn time!

COLIC, ain’t a sheepdog.
CESEAREAN SECTION ain’t a district in Rome.
ARTERY ain’t the study of paintings.
BYTE ain’t what your Pit-bull did to cousin Jethro.
FESTER don’t mean quicker.
IMPOTENT don’t mean distinguished.
MOUSE PAD ain’t where Mickey and Minnie live.
MODEM ain’t what you did to the tall grass.
RETARD ain’t when you get to stop working.
It ain’t the EIFFEL TIRE, dumb ass.

Friday, September 3, 2010

Bigfoot Sighting

World famous Bigfoot hunter, Sir Percy “Old Pot” Potterson, was in town recently as consultant for a Discovery Channel show being filmed here. Many were bewildered by his sudden departure and exit from Athens. He was spotted at the Columbus Airport, where he told reporters "that bloody blaghart buggered me in my tent in the middle of the night. It had matted hair all over its body and smelled like burnt rubber.”

Meanwhile one of the Quinon brothers returned from a turkey shoot bearing a sly grin.