Dear readers, I feel I owe you
poor, misguided souls an explanation for what you are to witness, if you have been unfortunate enough to stumble upon this insane asylum, which consists of the deranged ramblings of my master.
I realise that the title 'Epilogue'
might seem oxymoronic but this is the saga of the undeath of the
psychadelic moronic vampire, who calls himself Eddie Stardust.
I am Igor, his unfortunate ghostwriter,
though the archaic fool calls me Yorrick. He has enslaved me to
immortalise his unsavoury habits and practises most sordid, in the form which you living people refer
to as a blog.
Enjoy what you can ... fools. My advice
is to flee while what little sanity you have remains.
I should probably warn you that these
writings contain references most hideous and foul to a deviant
possessed of a wholly unnatural obsession with disco, absinthe, can can dancing, and
himself. Bastard.
Igor - Ghostwriter.
P.S. please send donations of blood
type T to Eddie's secret underground storage unit in Antarctica.
P.P.S Spike it with cinnamon. It really
annoys him!
Yorick, ye vile sickness. Thou bringest a plague most foul upon our graceful reputation. Thou shalt follow mine instructions ye nexte time, thou ignorant knave. Thou shalt pay for thy insolence. I can use this infernal interweb contraption as well as you can … so desist or you will henceforth be flung back into the moat, where you belong! ES Esq.
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