by William SPIKE, Childe of Angelus

So you are freshly rizzen a creature of the night a child of darkness etc etc etc. The grave dirt is still beneath yor fingernails. You cast aside yor burial suit (2 6/8 Grunnig's Best Funeral Outfitters) and stride forth to embrace (hem hem) yor Sire, the one who has given you unlife. The one who will teach you  perls of wisdom like 'A Sire owes his childe rebirth, education and discipline; a childe owes his Sire obedience, devotion and fealty' (Wisdom), and 'Hunger makes old tramps taste like young virgins', (Philosophy) and  'Always check and make sure your battle axe is sharp before attending a party with a pack of Sycorax Daemons.'  Which is v sound advise actually.

You are a new bug all freshly rizzen and shiny and new with wide eyes full of wonder etc etc. And you definitely need somebody to show you the ropes before you waste a lot of Time and Effort not to mention showing the rest of us all up.


LESSON ONE: Yor Sire On Waking

Observe here we have the formidable figure of the common or garden varitey Sire. He is about six foot six with shoulders measuring approx. four foot across and weight slightly heavier than a brick privvy. Ah the sun is setting it is dusk. The chirrup of the cuckoo is heard from the wood. The Sire awakes. He rises from his Masterly bed, he draws a hand through his thick glossy shoulder length girlie hair.

The dainty snores of his mate emanate from beside him in the bed. He gaze upon her with tender eyes. Her pale skin her crimson lips what is that a drop of leftover blood from the peddlar who came round? He bends to lap the dewy substance from her lip.

She flings open her blue eyes and embraces him. They KISS and we draw a veil over the scene. After they emerge from the tangle of sheets, broken bottles, cast off clothing etc etc etc the Masterful Sire rise in all his manly glory.

Whilst his Mate completes her toilette he does his morning ablushuns. First he washes his face in the warm water you were supposed to have left him on his dressing table. The cold water from yesterday will not do. He looketh into the bowl in disbelief, he extends a Masterful finger and touches the surface. 

"Darling," he say at last in puzzelment, "It seme the water in this basin is not hot, I told William to have warm water for me to shave with. Could he perhaps be ill or struck with some brain disease?"

"Perhaps he forgot to do it when he was busy engaged in throwing bits of paper at the ceiling for two hrs last night or else maybe when he was playing Hide the Thimble with Dru," replies the golden haired Sage. "Had you not been down at the pub gambling and drinking so much BEER you might have supervised his chores."

"What, that is outrageous things have changed since I was a Fledge I must get to the bottom (hem hem) of this at once my dere," he says with rightious Indignation as no Master vampire likes being shown up by a mere fledge in front of his Mate.

Then the Sire stand up in his full glory, he grasps his dressing gown he squares his shoulders and take a deep breath. He give a mighty Bellow, "WILLLLIIIIIIAAAAMMMMMMMMMMMMMM"

Plates crash from the dresser the junior minions faint the clock strike thirteen the cat yeowl and dashes up the chimney etc. Our hero the intrepid Fledge disengages himself from his edifying study (Varney the Vampire or the Feast of Blood, 1 p all best booksellers) and hastens to investigate the commotion.

"Go back and knock you know you do not barge into our private budoir without permission," says the Sire, pointing a sossige like finger in the direction of the door.

Do not attempt to point out that your Sire was bellowing so you thot he was on fire just go back and knock and wait for him to come in, this saves wear and tear on yor trousis in the long run.

"William come in. What do you see here in this basin?" the great Philospher asks.

"It looks like water, Sire it is clear, odourless and colourless although I suppose it could perhaps be nitroglycerine or some new odourless sort of gin."

Pick yorself up off the floor and rub your ear, that is the price you pay for trying to inject a bit of levity into the situation.

"WILLIAM did I not distinctly say I wanted hot water to shave with? This water is not hot it is barely tepid"

"It was hot last night when I poured it, Sire I don't know what could have happened it is one of life's great mysteries."

Dodge back to avoid the slap, trip over expensiv carpet slippers (9 2/6 with fancy needlework) try to catch yor balance on bedpost, fall forward and hit basin with hands in attempt to get balance, yor Sire now has had his morning shower bath with cold water.

Sire give a bellow of rage in imitation of mad rhino, charges as you fling basin at him in self defence. Run around opposite side of bed, avoid Madamme who puts out foot to trip you helpfully. Climb under bed and try to reason with Sire from relative safety.

You will learn many new words this way most of them unprintable- "Get out from there you little wretch when I get my hands on you I will wring your neck by the blistered nipples of the virgin"

"Do you think the boy is truly being stupid darling or is it just insolence after all you can thrash insolence out but I fear stupidity is permanent"

"Get out from under that bed boy I will count to three."

While under the bed you can apply yorself to making sure the collection of canes switches straps crickit bats hairbrushes etc etc etc has still not been discovered from their hiding place in the bottom of the bedsted. Then at last possible second when yor Sire get a poker to prod you come out the other side and brake quickly for the nearest exit.

Sire give chase you run like hell it gets his circulation going and is better to energise the system than Coffe. Try not to let him catch you, for instructions on what to do in that case, please see next installment titled:

LESSON TWO: Strap, Switch or Cane?