Local Man Wins Golden Fang Award
-- VAMPIRE PRESS-- W.VA. Eyewitnesses state the frail-looking man yelled, "Children of the Night, I'm coming to save you!" as he ran into the crowded restaurant with no thought of his own safety. In fact, he spent a night in jail, being released just moments before dawn. Hailed as a hero to the common bat, Rutherford Zucks was awarded the highest honor, receiving the Golden Bat Award for rescuing unnumbered bats moments away from their demise.
Among other honors, Zucks was named "Vampire of the Year" by Biters Anonymous, of which he is a founding member. He declined a VQ (Vampire Quarterly) cover, citing modesty concerns.
Mr. Rutherford Zucks lives in a secluded mountain area with his nephew, Brent Field. The pair was visiting Daytona Beach last spring for Biker Week when things got grim. Mr. Field stated, "It was touch and go there for a while. He barely avoided a diabetic crisis of low blood sugar with no nourishment all night long."
His hometown is abuzz with excitement that a real red-blooded hero lives among them. Congratulations have come in by mail, e-mail, and by telephone. Mr. Zucks proudly showed this reporter a telegram from Van Helsing IV, who felt humbled by the older man's bravery. And Zucks was very happy to receive a card from a friend named Amanda, which stated that he was "the bomb."
This reporter was granted an exclusive interview with the reclusive, quiet man. When asked his motivation for his brave act, he said, "If but one bat is imprisoned, abused, or served as gourmet far, no bat is free. Our motto should be 'Leave No Bat Behind.'"
This modest man is an inspiration to us all. He challenges the young and healthy person not to ignore abuse or mistreatment of any of God's creatures.
We remind you that this week is dedicated to the Bat Awareness Program. Though they are not cute and fuzzy like a kitten, or have cute little noses like a puppy, they do deserve kind consideration as well.
* * *
Brent Field gasped as he looked at the thermometer. "Master, you're burning up with fever; it's 98.6"
Rutherford moaned, "I feel terrible." He lay in his sick bed under thick, warm blankets to insulate his usually colder body.
"And your blood sugar is low. I'll get your evening nourishment, iced blood."
Rutherford's whiny voice called out, "And will you turn on the television on your way out? I can't reach the remote."
The television announcer said, "Welcome to the Bat Shopping Network. Stay tuned, music fans. For the first time, we've got a digitally enhanced CD for that great singer, Batty Page and her famous rendition of 'How Much is that Wolfie in the Window'? Just listen to this, folks. They don't make them like this any more."
Rutherford closed his eyes and listened to the Great One sing. He smiled at the pleasant memories it brought back.
"Master, sit up and drink this," Brent said to him.
Rutherford sat up and held the glass with trembling hands.
"Master, will you be all right? I'm going to do an online search to see what effects this flu might have on you."
The older man drank down the last of the cold, red liquid. "I'm fine, go ahead."
"Now, folks, this next product is a modern miracle. I never start a day without it," the announcer said and smiled showing sparkling white teeth. "You might wonder what product could make my teeth so bright. It not only works on coffee and tea stains but blood stains on fangs. Let me show you how this works."
Rutherford looked at his two sets of dentures, one fangless and one with fangs, in glasses of water beside his eyeglasses. Hmm, his teeth looked pretty good with their soaking every day, but what an amazing idea. What will they think of next? His eyes grew heavy with sleep.
"Tomorrow is Valentine's Day. Have you sent your loved one that special gift yet? If not,we're here to solve that problem. BSN has received a large shipment of exotic roses. Order a dozen right now! They come in pale ivory or blood red.
Rutherford yelled to Brent, "Come here, I need to use the phone."
Brent brought in the phone, and Rutherford pointed to the television. "Hurry, there's only two minutes left for the roses. Order a dozen for Amanda and some for her friend, Orange Lips."
Brent dialed the number and punched in their credit card number. "Master, do you want the ivory or red?"
Rutherford smiled weakly, ignoring the pain of his throbbing headache. "Blood red, of course, for Amanda. You choose for her friend."
Brent punched a button on the phone for one set of blood red and one set of ivory roses. "That's wonderful, Master. I bet the girls send us valentine cards tomorrow. They never forget."
The announcer said, "Is your breath minty fresh? Do you experience bat breath? This new breath spray is formulated especially for the modern vampire bat. Just one quick spray and all your worries will be over when you go on that special date."
Brent frowned as he listened to the sales pitch. There seemed to be no end to the trials and tribulations of the vampire, bat and human form. Rutherford closed his eyes and was soon snoring. Brent tiptoed out of the bedroom to the living room to read his new biker magazine. He smiled in anticipation of Biker Week at Daytona Beach this year and seeing Orange Lips again.
"Ah-choo," Rutherford sneezed.
Brent returned to the bedroom and looked around. Rutherford was not in bed. "Master, where are you?"
A squeaky voice answered, "Up here."
His guardian looked at the ceiling, and a vampire bat hung upside down from the rafters. "Master, what are you doing up there. Why did you turn into a bat? You know it takes days sometimes to return to normal human form."
"I don't know what happened. I sneezed, and the next thing I knew I was up here. Now, I feel chilled and afraid to fly down."
Brent said, "Let me get a ladder and I'll get you down."
"Ah-choo." Brent heard a loud thud as he entered the kitchen, like something landed on the wood floor. He walked quickly to the bedroom and exclaimed, "Master!" There lay Rutherford on the floor in human form, and a goose-egg knot was starting to form on his forehead. He picked up the small man and placed him back in bed under warm blankets. "Master, are you okay?"
The older man looked at him with glazed eyes. Brent looked at him in panic. Should he call the doctor or the vet in case he got a concussion?
Rutherford looked at Brent and asked, "Will you tell Momma to bring me a glass of orange juice? I'm dry as a sponge."
Brent stared. His mother passed on years ago and was buried in the back yard amongst her fabulous rose garden. Rutherford tended it with great care every year.
"Do you know where you are, and who I am?"
Rutherford looked around. "Sure, I'm in my bedroom, and I feel terrible. I must have a bad cold." He stared at Brent and said, "You look so familiar. Are you one of Momma's relatives?"
"I'll be right back with your juice." Brent's eyes were clouded with worry. The internet site had no information on bats suffering from swine flu, but now the Master had amnesia too. He returned to the computer and pushed keys for medical help.
Brent jumped up. Oh, no, what if the Master turned into a bat with amnesia? He ran into the bedroom. Sure enough, the Master in bat form was hanging from a rafter. Where had he left that ladder? He ran to get it -- when he returned, no bat was in the room. He must have squeezed through a small opening in a window.
Brent sat down on the bed and thought. What might happen to a bat with swine flu? Would he get his death of cold from the chilly night air? What if he forgot he was diabetic and a member of Biters Anonymous, vowing never to hurt humans? He had no teeth or eyeglasses; how would he get around? What if he flew into telephone pole or tree and knocked a new knot on his head? Brent grabbed his coat and a blanket and went out into the dark night to find his friend and Master.
To purchase a copy of Beverly's book, Gothic Bedtime Stories, contact her at P. O. Box 803, Alderson, WV, 24910 or by email: hbpoe(at)excite.com. The cost of the book is $15.00 -- mention the Piker Press for free shipping.
The Piker Press moderates all comments.
Click here for the commenting policy.