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Rated: E · Fiction · Supernatural · #1713286
Another episode of the World Problem Resolution Society.
Walter (not his real name) and I were sitting around the campfire at our world headquarters in an undisclosed part of Texas. As usual, we were solving the world’s problems one cup of coffee at a time.

Shavings flew like a wood chipper as we whittled our way through forearm sized chunks of seasoned ash. Me with my little Cold Steel Finn Bear; Walter with his blade du jour – a handsome custom piece that looked about the size and weight of a leaf spring from a pickup truck. I’ve always believed that Walter chooses his blades by the pound.

Big blades do have their place, but I don’t like carrying anything so heavy it makes me crab walk like John Wayne. Age has done enough of that already.

We are both voracious readers with eclectic tastes in subject matter. Tonight’s discussion covered the new wave of vampire fiction. Vampire romance. Vampire cops. Vampire doctors. As a side note, I’m sure a vampire would make a great hematologist. I’m not at all sure I’d want one as my proctologist. Those pesky fang marks make sitting so uncomfortable. Or so I’ve been told.

Shavings flew as we discussed vampire control and culling techniques. We’re certain that we can patent several of our development. When the bloodsuckers reach critical mass and the Great Vampire War begins – we’ll be ready! Hooah!

We designed a couple of high tech sling shots to fire garlic cloves. They’re not lethal, but they buy us time to deploy the heavy weapons. We asked Father Alex to bless the water tank on my power washer. Two hundred gallons of holy water at 2200 psi. Take that, foul beast!

We are researching some defense contractors to make some high tech, lightweight body armor. Our silver chain mail, gloves and coifs are not only dated, they’re heavy. Mobility is essential. It’s not like we’re popping lumbering, brain-eating zombies. Vampires are fast. And they’re strong.

Shavings flew. Suddenly Walter and I had one of those “Aha!” moments An epiphany. A world-class brain burp. We held the crown jewel of our arsenal right in our hands. The revered STAKE!

Never ones to use any tool that is less than first class, we modified the old standby to increase yield into the kiloton range.

Following are the final specs for the Bloodsucker Magnum Stake, v 1.2, mod 1:

    * Needle sharp point to minimize drag coefficient
    * Fire hardened tip to guarantee easy penetration of the undead chest cavity
    * Hand grip wrapped in tarred cord just above the mid-point to insure a firm grip in wet and bloody conditions
    * Fluted shaft to channel holy water and garlic juice into the wound cavity
    * Silver tacks along the shaft in the shape of the cross (another blessing job for Father Alex)

In final analysis, the Magnum is a nasty piece of work. You’ve heard the old cliché of adding insult to injury. We’re still figuring the insult to injury ratio for the weapons system. The holy water, garlic juice and silver cross constitute the insult; naturally the stake is the injury.

When the wood shavings reached ankle level, Walter moved to adjourn the meeting of The World Problem Resolution Society. We dumped the coffee dregs on the fire, whistled up the dogs and set course for our bunks.


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