ELVIS MELLON’S HALLOWEEN SPECIAL

PART # 6

COPYRIGHT 2007

A QUINN MARTIAN PRODUCTION

Siegfried Frankenreich awoke with a splitting head ache to find himself sprawled on the
cold stone floor in front of an empty cell in his dungeon.
That little alien bastard had nearly
killed them all with his telepathic singing.
He pulled out a small digital recorder from his suit
jacket pocket
. Note  to self; have Debbie Boone killed for ever writing and singing that
song AND Boy George as well
! Igor and   Uncle Eric were stirring and waking up as well
when
 Siegfried noticed the cell door was open and  Thirteen  was no where to be found.  
He stood up and dusting off his dark blue suit  and helped Igor to his feet as Uncle Eric
stretched , looking  worn out  despite his youthful appearance.  When Eric was under stress
or angry his German accent came out
. “Zat little creature has a made a fool of you und has
run to his master Elvis Mellon (spitting…) “Dat Mellon is some kind of Nut job!!  
Drecksau!!

(Filthy Bastard- Filthy Swine-)    If you don’t get rid of him…
Der Teufel wird los sein!!!
(All Hell will break loose!!) Siegfried turned to his Uncle
.  “You act like you know him?!  I
know he’s trouble but  what do you know about him??” Eric Von Frankenstein might have
looked
thirty   but the eyes that looked at Siegfried were those of a tired, haunted old man
who held a grudge.  “er beleidigte das fuhrer  ( He insulted the Fuhrer…)  “
Er hat fickt
Sie gerk ab zum fuhrer gesagt,  
 Siegfried shook his head confused. “My German is a
little rusty Uncle Eric! In English please?”   Eric Von Frankenstein was shaking and red
faced
. “He said F#$% you -gerk off , to the Fuhrer!!  “Und dann hat er sein Bier stein
gestohlen
!!”  

‘AND THEN HE STOLE HIS BEER STEIN!!”  Siegfried’s eyes widened and
his mouth was agape
. “HE stole Hitler’s Beer stein??!!  Hahahahahahahahahahaah!! I think
I like this guy!! Wait a minute
, HOW old is he? When did this happen??”  Eric looked misty
eyed “ 1936
 in Munich at the Olympics and that was no ordinary beer stein, that beer stein
was given to mien Fuhrer by none other the Field Marshall Paul Von Hindenburg  and
legend has it was once the beer stein of Frederick I Barbarossa  – Holy Roman Emperor
and King of Germany!!!” I do not know how old that Scheißen Sie Esser  ( shit eater ) is?!
He didn’t look older the
forty  in 1936.  There were rumors that he was a time traveler…”

Siegfried rubbed his eyes “Wait!!??  Did you say Hitler’s beer stein??!!!  THAT beer
stein??! How did he steal it?” Eric shouted
.  “DIESER VERRÜCKTE BASTARD  
-
dieser grosse stumme Amerikaner
-     (that crazy bastard- this big dumb American) said he was with the American press,
working for some rag called The Saturday Evening Post. He was carrying this large gray
cat, Der Fuhrer had a soft spot for cats
and HE knew it!  He had some crazy Italian with
him in an American Colonel’s uniform and this -"Elvis Mellon"  introduced him as a member
of the U.S army press core   and they wormed their way into the party behind Der Fuhrers
reviewing stand while  Hitler had the beer stein with him.  All I know is the big American met
with Hitler and wouldn’t shake his hand and said
. “This is for Jesse
Owens
!  “F@#$ you gerk off!” and he grabbed the stein and ran with the
Cat in one arm , holding the stein in another with that D
ago behind him and guards
shooting at them. They  vanished without a trace. We eventually heard they had been
spotted in Britain where in 1939 he was said to be arguing with Neville Chamberlain and
later in 41 having cigars and brandy with Winston Churchill!!   In  France in 1942, 43 and
theres even crazy stories about them being seen on Normandy beach... PRE-INVASION
and later in Berlin when it was falling. We always assumed they were Yank spies."

Eric leaned close and put a hand on Siegfried's  shoulder and pointed with the other for
Igor to get lost
.  “My dear Nephew (almost in a whisper- said reverently) That BEER
STEIN was no ordinary heirloom. On top of being priceless for its jewels and precious
metals…its history is far older and stranger then you can imagine. I am sure you are familiar
with the “Spear of destiny”? The spear that was said to have pierced Jesus Christ’s side,  
by  the Roman centurion "Longenius"   who was later cursed for his actions. That spear
would protect anyone that had it and in front of his or her  army it would render that army
victorious and indestructible!!
Charlemagne and later Frederick Barbarossa were said to possess it. “Siegfried starred at
his “uncle” in the flickering glow of the torch light “Yes Uncle, I Know the legends and that
somehow this beer stein is tied into them as well. I have been looking for that beer stein
myself for years and  I knew you were somehow wrapped up in its history but I had no idea
this Interloping fool was involved!! “   Eric’s eyes had a twinkle in them now
“Ahhhhhh……then you know …..THAT stein
was also owned by

Barbarossa and before him
 by Charlemagne and before that?   It was said to have been
found by Roman legions under
 Octavius Augustus   Caesar while looking for a way
through the Hercynian forest, what we know as the “Black forest” and our second
ancestral home. A Centurion known as Deodatus Flavius found it while exploring an old
iron mine that was considered ancient even in
 41   B.C. Some local heathens  they had
captured told him he was cursed as this old relic he found, a sacred iron drinking vessel – the
“Father of all steins” had been made by the frost giants as a gift to Loki , but my sources
tell me that it was made long ago by those that worshiped the old ones
, those who’s names
are seldom spoken today.” Siegfried was spell bound and stood silent , listening to his
uncle’s story.  
Eric paused and listened to the crickets chirping in the gloom of the basement dungeon.
“That Centurion would later bring that stein to Rome where it would later end up a gift to
the Roman Emperor -Constantine Chlorus , who’s full name was   “Flavius Valerius
Constantius.”  In 286 A.D  he would declare himself the Emperor in Britain and Northern
Gaul and in a later campaign against the Alamanni tribe of Celts, the stein was lost and
later turned up over 400 years later as Charlemagne’s drinking stein and by then it had been
embossed with silver and gold designs and encrusted with jewels. It was said that all

those that drank from it before battle couldn’t lose but eventually someone stole it from
the great  Holy Roman Emperor. We both know the rest, We must get that stein from that
buffoon Elvis Mellon, IF he still has it
. With the powers of that stein and the other sacred
relics you have collected we can surely open the portal between the worlds and bring the
old ones back through!! WE SHALL RULE THIS PLANET WITH THE HELP
OF THE OLD ONES AND WE WILL BECOME AS GODS  ON
EARTH
!!  HHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHH ( both men
laughing maniacally….)   Siegfried suddenly catching himself and looking upset
.  “Wait a
minute!!
 What do you mean -WE?”
Mean while back on the mainland in the town of Bears Tooth, evening had fallen and Elvis
Mellon, Doc. Sax and Colonel T.P Sommo were  sitting at the bar in O Riley’s Bar and
Grill with their phony i.d’s and fitting right in with the locals
 who were  mostly fisherman and
merchants and  some down on their luck locals who all appreciated Elvis Mellon’s buying
them several  round’s  and showing genuine interest in talking
To each and every one of them. O Riley’s was your “Beer and Shot” joint and what those
over
 fifty five   would still refer to as “a gin mill”,  a smoky dim lit pub with pool tables and
dart

boards and even shuffle board. Old time neon lights blinking “Miller” and “Iron City” hung
on the wall with fishing poles and pictures of fishing boats and   days gone by. Moose and
Deer heads represented the other great natural resource of the area- the
woods/hunting/lumber etc. Elvis was feeling no pain and had drank several draughts of  “E.
K.U Kulminator Herr Brocht 21”  with a generous  helping of 195 proof moonshine from  
his new favorite stein  before they left for the bar. Now he sat there with his
National Geographic i.d as “Arthur Kootersnatch” and he was sure getting a lot of
mileage out of talking about the esteemed society and popular magazine. Looking at the
pictures of half naked aborigine women in a locked bathroom as a
13  year old was about as
close as he ever came to the National Geographic society but the locals didn’t need know
that.  He noticed a rather attractive if not slightly “worn” looking dark haired woman sitting
alone at the corner of the bar and she was hammering back drinks and had a steady cigarette
going in the ashtray
( THIS  Was his kind of woman!)  His crew might

Argue that anyone one with a pulse was his kind of woman but that’s another story. Elvis
sat with his back to the front door of the bar with X, Doc Sax and the Colonel to his
right. Merle Ferguson was to his left and had introduced him self and was filling Elvis in on
the strange goings on in the town and Elvis was bullshitting him blind about his exploits in
Africa and China chasing Geographic stories.  Elvis kept looking over towards the dark
haired woman who was looking his way and checking him out. He excused himself and
sauntered over to where the woman was sitting. “I hope you don’t mind my coming over here
but I couldn’t help but notice you were all alone, Mind if I sit with you?...Miss….uuhhh….?”
The dark haired woman with smoldering dark brown eyes smiled and pushed a bar stool out
for Elvis to sit on. “Dracul...Gladys Dracul…Mr. Kootersnatch, wont you join me?”

Elvis nodded and sat down.
“At your Cervix, uh....I mean service…” Sheriff Pemberville was
doing his rounds and being especially vigilant since it was “Mischief night” or as they say in
Detroit- “Devil night.”   This was a relatively harmless night in these parts with some
windows getting soaped   and some tree’s getting toilet papered. There hadn’t been any
calls about Werewolves or Vampires in the last night and Buford was hoping tonight would
be quiet as well. It was still barley 10:00 p.m and relatively early as the sheriff’s

Police cruiser drove down  Superior road ,   which hugged the shore of Western Lake
Superior in this and several surrounding townships. The night skies were cloudy but the
almost full Moon shown through and the sheriff could look out at the houses near the
beach and the barren stretch of grass lands and dunes in between. He saw the lights of a
freighter far off in the distance and he could hear the lonely sound of a buoy signal bell
sounding in the night. He did a double take when he saw the ghostly sight of an
 eighteenth
century
 schooner with ripped, tattered sails and pale, eerie  lights,  gliding across the water
off shore. He pulled off the road and got out to watch the strange ship when he heard the

sound of a horse and wagon clomping down the road, he whirled around to see a phantom
set of horses pulling a wagon with a skeletal driver holding the reins, barreling right towards
him. He leapt out of the way and hit the ground, landing in the tall grass and looked up to
see the horses and wagon simply pass through his patrol car and disappear.  
He got up, dusting himself off and felt himself shaking- “Weird shit……I need a stiff drink.”  
Across town in the Viking,
 Thirteen   was recovering after being beamed off the island by  
Virgil who  got a fix on his whereabouts from thorough and relentless sensor sweeps.

Smoky assured him that Elvis and the others had gone out on patrol and  weren’t just at
the bar getting drunk which was exactly what they were doing! Zik and Grond were keeping
Frankie and Muffy Company in the lounge when
 Thirteen  had returned.  Muffy  nearly
knocked
 Thirteen   over and hugged him tightly –“Oh are you O.K?? Did my Daddy hurt
you??”
Zik , (  who fed on sound waves and had nearly jumped out of a window when he heard
Thirteen's  earlier singing …)  said -“I think you have that backwards!!  Thirteen,  do me a
favor and don’t enter any singing contests!”
Thirteen  sounded  shocked.-“You heard
me??!!”  Virgil’s disembodied voice (as Michael Caine) came from thin air
. “Yes, that’s how I
was able to lock on and beam you out. I had been running sensors sweeps of the area for
your distinct genetic signature when I came across your vocal patterns.”
Thirteen  puffed
his chest out “ I am fine , I thought I sounded rather good.” Smokey’s eyes became slits
again
. - “YEAH- Good- for a Harbor Seal!!”  Muffy sat with Thirteen  and held his hand
“That’s alright
, I think your wonderful.”

Elvis Mellon was sitting with Gladys Dracul, regaling her with made up stories about his
adventures with the Geographic. They were giggling and chatting and Elvis’s left hand was
sliding up her thigh as his right held a glass of Single malt scotch.  Gladys was just inviting
him to the cottage she
kept  in town when sheriff Pemberville came charging through the
front door, white as a sheet and shaking and headed straight for the bar
.  “Double Jack
Daniels – Neat, keep em coming!” He glanced around at the locals who all knew him and who
were his friends.
“I am advising everyone to stay here for now, there’s some crazy shit going
on out side and its all over town !!”  Colonel T.P Sommo glanced over at Elvis who was
reluctantly asking Gladys for a rain check. “Sheriff, back before my Commission days I
used to work with a rather clandestine organization that investigated unusual phenomenon
   
as  
 did the rest of these guys with me. Can we be of assistance?”

Doc. Sax and X stood up with the Colonel and downed  their drinks as Elvis Mellon kissed
Gladys goodbye (and fondled her ass) and walked (with a slight balance problem…) to join
them. Merle Ferguson and the Sheriff joined them as they went out the front door into the
night. The group of men stood outside O Riley’s Bar and Grill on the cement sidewalk
looking out at the quiet night time Main Street with its shops and restaurants.
There were strange phantom shapes and translucent ghost like figures from various parts of
the Peninsula’s history walking and running and floating about. Indians, Settlers and
Trappers, Sailors and Fishermen from the
eighteenth   century, and later. Huge bats flew
through the moonlit skies and weird  creatures and other strange sights. Vampires and
Werewolves and other supernatural creatures stalked the streets and the air was alive with
the cries of people and unnatural screams and howls. The men huddled together in the door
front of the bar looking out at the strange seen
. All Hell was breaking loose!  Elvis Mellon
stomped out his cigarette and spoke into his watch
. -“Virgil?, WHAT THE HELL

IS HAPPENING?!!”   (Whispering) “Sorry sheriff, we are under cover with the Feds but
NOT because of any Parks bullshit…… (Gesturing to his watch) Classified technology
,
the very
 latest, don’t worry, WE will take care of this crap.”  Virgil’s voice (Now as Peter
Lorre) came out of the watch “As Halloween draws near and the comet Holmes
approaches the electro magnetic anomalies grow in intensity and the vortex under the island
becomes much more powerful,  and its drawing in ghosts and all forms of other
Dimensional beings, monsters and supernatural creatures much like what happens daily at
Cabo Diablo.”  “CABO DIABLO?” The sheriff looked puzzled. Elvis grinned.
“Long
story sheriff….uhh ....you need to get on  a phone or radio and tell everyone in town to stay
in doors and sit tight!” The sheriff was just about to speak when this horrendous roar
blasted through the streets with windows shaking and the ground trembling, They all
looked down the street from the direction of the cove and the bus –which was now gone ,
To see several enormous, horrific looking Lake Monsters that were
three  times the size of
the
one that was killed, apparently its family had come into to town. X looked from them to Elvis
“Holy shit, I thought I was getting a vacation from this shit!! I didn’t sign on for this, there
better be something extra in my pay!!!” Doc Sax seemed un phased  and walked out into the
ghost and ghoul filled street with his camera’s and started taking pictures of the
approaching monsters, Merle and the sheriff looked like frightened children and the
Colonel had his Pearl handled revolvers out and aimed at the beasts.
Sheriff Pemberville poked Elvis Mellon in the shoulder “Now what do we do?” Elvis
grinned and pushed open the bar door -gesturing for everyone to follow him back inside-
“We get drunk of course!” TO BE CONTINUED...
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