Original subtitles

I am Vlad the Impaler Dracula, you can all suck my cock.

I am Vlad the Impaler Dracula, you can all suck my cock.

I am Vlad the Impaler Dracula, you can all suck my cock...

Superb! Like Fluxus films!

Brilliant mise-en-scène!

I'm this film's writer and director.

Some time ago I agreed to make a film based on the Dracula myth.

A commercial, popular film.

But I can't do it! I have zero ideas!

While I was struggling with this project,

fortunately, AI has developed a lot!

What you've just seen was made with the Vlaicu2000 AI.

What?

The funds, the producers and distributors, they did a test screening,

and apparently the audience was not at all happy.

82 percent.

So it looks like I'll have to make this Dracula film.

Great! This will be super-commercial.

Nudity, sex, feelings,

violence, car chases, lots of blood,

jokes, gags, slapstick,

"piss yourself laughing," in specialised lingo.

Well then, God bless!

A demon on the wing, O, hast thou seen the fiend?

Like lightning 'cross the sky To Floarea's house he flew!

Then down the chimney, sooth!

Fast as an evil wind! O Lord, and how he keened!

Say, hast thou seen him too?

A dragon of white light with flaming, fearsome tail,

And gems beyond compare did shine on him like fire.

The poor girl is a shadow, her skin a sickly hue,

The beast's ungodly torture is tearing her apart.

Heed the old wives' advice, its words tested and true:

Young maidens, stay away from the fires of the heart!

Of the heart.

Thank you! Feel free to applaud!

That faggot can sing!

Thank you!

Good evening! I am Adonis, welcome to our show!

Which begins with...

the mystery of physicist Ludwig Boltzmann!

A dead body, he says,

can come back to live a second life,

a reverse picture of their first.

But the likelihood of such a phenomenon, my dear lady,

is fantastically low.

Advocates of statistical mechanics claim

we have not yet experienced such a wonder

because we have not yet observed a sufficient number of...

dead bodies, Madam!

It's like the law of large numbers.

The more people die,

billions to the power of billions,

the higher the chance of some reviving!

Or becoming...

Living dead.

The undead! That is the subject of tonight's story

in our restaurant, which is highly select and secret.

Let us welcome Vampira with applause!

As Mina, played by our peerless Vampira,

awaits her beloved Jonathan Harker,

played by your humble servant,

he is busy in Transylvania, right here, in Sighișoara.

Rats, rats, rats!

Thousands, millions of them, and every one a life.

And dogs to eat them, and cats too.

All red blood,

with years of life in it.

All these lives will I give you, my love,

and many more and greater, through countless ages,

if you will fall down and worship me!

I worship you, Master!

Very well.

But first, a little refreshment.

We remind you that photographing or recording through any means

are strictly prohibited.

Touching the performers outside the specially designated scenes,

some requiring prior payment,

is also strictly prohibited.

Bitch got killer tits!

Bravo! Applause!

That was so good, my love!

You got some on me, motherfucker!

You better not have AIDS!

My love, Mina. How faint you are!

Was I once again attacked by that infernal monster?

Worry not!

I have summoned Dr. Van Helsing from the University Hospital.

Together we shall defeat Dracula.

Beloved Mina, you are safe here until the sunset;

and before then we shall return -

Them tits!

Yes, we shall return!

But first I will arm you against personal attack.

On your forehead I touch this piece of Sacred Wafer

in the name of the Father,

the Son,

and the Holy Spirit,

Amen.

Kyrie eleison...

Quiet!

- Next, part two of our - - Shitty show.

Thank you, Madam, bye.

Those wanting to join Dracula in the Pink Salon -

Fuck off!

To live out their fantasies,

or, for 30 minutes, join Vampira in the Purple Salon,

can start placing their bids now!

One hour with Dracula! Starting at 1000 euros!

Do I see more?

Look at those long canines! Show them!

-1200 euro. -For a blowjob?

Oh, excellent choice!

Ladies, don't be shy.

He has huge skill with his teeth, the pleasure will be all yours!

Something to tell your grandchildren.

1500 euros!

1500 going once, going twice -

Gone! Bravo!

Go to the Pink Room!

Enjoy the love machine!

[In the Pink Salon, pleasures worthy of Heliogabalus' harem]

Now suck Popeye the Sailor Man's dick, Dracula!

What?

Here.

Suck him.

I'm Popeye the Sailor Man,

I yam what I yam and that's all that I yam,

I'm Popeye the Sailor Man.

Spinach for me!

Now touch my clitoris with your sharp teeth.

Lick my pussy, Dracula!

Now fuck me, Dracula!

Fuck me!

Fuck me 'til the blood comes out of my pussy!

What's up?

Cannot do.

Cock down. Finished.

Fucking moron!

-Sorry. -"Sorry"!

He couldn't perform. He's a fucking impotent!

Sorry. Again, Uncle Sandu?

It's my age, son.

Sorry, it was for the first time.

I want my money back.

I did lick her pussy.

-But he performed with the mouth! -I want my 1500 back!

Don't worry, we'll reimburse you. Give her the money back.

And here is the most popular part of our show!

Dracula and Mina, now his partner in crime and hanky-panky,

flee, trying to escape their just punishment.

The perimeter is marked on the map sent to your phones.

I repeat the rules:

they will only hide in public places.

No private homes or vegetable patches.

So don't barge into hotel rooms on hot couples.

At most, you'll find that pervy Professor Bulai.

No assaulting the performers, the stakes are just for a little...

oomph, Madam!

The kid's so sweet.

Ready,

steady,

go!

Stop! They get a minute's advance.

One, two...

59, 58, 57...

Let's go left!

3, 2, 1, go!

Dracula sucks cock!

Dracula sucks cock!

Come on!

Hurry up!

Hope they catch us quick so we can wrap up the fucking show.

You know it never takes long.

There you were, you rats!

Congratulations, you caught us!

Motherfucker!

Some spectators might be disappointed.

The film title is Dracula, but it's not about Dracula.

Just a washed-up actor playing Dracula.

I apologise! Or, to quote a serious film character:

"I accept your condemnation!"

Fortunately, I've found a much better AI.

Dr. AI JUDEX 0.0.

By an American-Japanese company.

So, dear Dr. AI JUDEX 0.0,

you find a way for Vlad the Impaler and Dracula

to become one and the same and appear in modern-day Romania.

I want it to be the bomb!

But with some deeper, philosophical stuff too.

Of course. How do we begin?

Let's do something...

Science-y.

Something cool and trendy.

Right away.

1. Eutrophia

Claudia Cardinale visited this clinic, as did Pablo Neruda.

Ana Aslan treated Salvador Dalí's famous wife, Gala.

Nixon, too.

Charlie Chaplin was here too.

Even Lillian Gish, who starred in Griffith's films.

Many did not want it known they were under eutrophic treatment

for rejuvenation.

Professor Ana Aslan was very discreet.

She met General Franco in Spain, but didn't even know where he lived,

because she was driven to his residence in a tinted-window car.

Aristotle Onassis sent a private jet for her to treat him on Skorpios Island.

She was impressed by Onassis' immense charm.

Good day, Mrs. Lucy! Ready for the next round?

I feel younger already!

I was watching this about Ana Aslan. She was quite something!

So many stars came here for her treatment.

Even Nixon and Chaplin!

Yeah, she invented this treatment for staying young as long as possible

as a humanistic thing.

Actually, you know, it's dangerous, you don't know who wants to use it.

This is why it's still a secret, we all sign confidential papers and...

My opinion is that Ceaușescu wanted to live forever

and he created all the conditions for Mrs. Aslan to work for him.

If he hadn't been executed, he'd be alive even today.

You must drink it slowly.

Wanna go in the music room and listen to something?

Wagner, like yesterday?

I noticed there is a kind of theatre hall.

Any plays performed there?

Not anymore.

Actually, when Mr. Steven Spielberg was in our clinic,

he asked to have Ceaușescu's screening room.

Spielberg was here?

Yes, and he wanted to see films all the time.

John Ford's films.

But sometimes even bad Romanian films.

Old films on these big rolls, you know.

He laughed a lot, he considered them so stupid.

We offered him a huge TV set, but still he preferred old technology.

I would like to see a film there, if it's possible.

Casablanca?

That will be an extra fee of 1000 euros.

The porter was here when Dalí and Chaplin were here.

How was Chaplin?

The lady wants to know about Chaplin.

Damn bastard! So boring and always angry.

No fun at all.

He was all shriveled up and swore like a Cossack.

And he always argued with that old broad, Lillian Gish.

Over dough, I guess.

We're talking big bucks.

Hear this,

one day I saw him cram her into that corner,

and she sucked his... you know.

Damn broad.

-Your Highness, command me. -Catch every scoundrel in this country.

Hardly possible, Your Highness.

Many take refuge on the boyars' domains.

We have no power there yet.

The boyars again.

You should have slain them, Your Highness.

Iunus Beg's army has been hanging here for a year.

Let us give the dead their due.

Do you think to serve only yourselves?

Boyars, this country is not yours.

You belong to the country.

I, too, belong to the country.

It's "Ladislaus of Hungary", not "the Hungary of Ladislaus".

"Casimir of Poland", not "the Poland of Casimir"!

Were it not so,

countries would die with their rulers.

Boy!

Boy!

"I inform Your Highness of the Turks' plots."

Locked in this foul film for so long, with no way out!

What?

You have freed me.

Sorry, I don't speak this language.

I want your blood.

Where is the money, bitch?

Money!

Give me the fucking money!

In my room, you crow, but I have nothing!

Giddy up, Grandma!

Leave me alone!

Now suck my cock, Grandma!

Get impaled on it!

Grandma, you give head like a pro!

Oh, Grandma.

Fuck, you got some crazy tongue, Grandma!

Brilliant! Way to go!

Japanese technology, American pragmatism.

Plus the Romanian cultural heritage!

I was made to serve the public's interests.

-You're a huge help! -I am here to serve.

Just to make it clear:

Personally,

I don't agree with this idiot's vulgarity and controversy.

I won't accept it!

Right!

Now to return to my story.

Back to the restaurant!

[A Movable Feast]

Now for the medal ceremony!

Come get your prizes, everyone!

Congratulations!

Go do the dishes.

Smile!

Embarrass me again and you're fired.

It's not my fault, Mrs. Georgeta.

He can't help it, Madam, it's all biological.

You shut up!

I took you in from the streets, you had escaped from the loony bin!

I paid for your fucking treatment, gave you food and shelter.

I'll try, Madam, I promise.

Do, or I replace you.

Fucking scum.

I got us two shows next month.

One at Béla Lugosi Cinema in Lugoj, for the Porsche CEO,

one in Bran, attended by Elon Musk and Hollywood actors.

We can't afford to fail.

-Trump might be there too. -Donald Trump?

If he does, I'll shoot him in the head.

Come in.

Oh, come on now.

Say, let's run away and make our own show.

Run to where?

We could join the circus.

Or some whorehouse in Germany.

Didn't you say they abused you at the circus?

Like it's any better here?

Conditions are shitty, the pay is low.

While Uncle Sandu sniffles, dear AI,

come up with something more artsy, for our serious spectators.

Yes, my Führer.

I propose an intervention on Murnau's Nosferatu from 1922.

I wouldn't dare touch a classic of film history.

I'm a Murnau fan!

I would, no one can throw eggs at me.

Got tired of wanking?

We have the solution!

Visit rosex. ro, click on "Fuck Me!"

And you'll be in heaven!

You bring the hard cock, we'll do the rest!

Got anemia?

The Murnau Online Drugstore has an offer on Forte Iron.

Total content: 90 satchels.

Guaranteed efficacy, fresh apple flavour, extra vitamin C!

Blood, Strength, Energy!

Do you want to follow Count Dracula's traces

in Transylvania?

This summer, Mareshal Antonescu Tourism

takes you on a great tour like no other.

Count Dracula Tour!

Information online.

My dear,

ever wondered why even this wretch gets more love than you,

though you look a lot better?

Wonder no more!

He had penis enlargement surgery at Switzerland Cliniques Bucharest.

Act now!

Does size matter? Of course!

I love Murnau's films.

I could never do that.

I doubt our spectators would enjoy this garbage.

I, for one, don't!

Now I want you to hijack that Romanian-language scene

from the Dracula of Francis Ford Coppola.

-I can't. -Why not?

- We don't own the rights - - Fuck them!

I'm going for fair use.

Duchamp is our lawyer, Dr. AI JUDEX 0.0. Quotations are allowed!

I can only reenact the scene.

OK.

At least make it more erotic.

More commercial.

-Sex sells! -Yes, Master.

We'll put in some tit, some ass, some cunt, no problem.

You are the love of my life.

Of my life.

I have crossed oceans of time to meet you.

You are the love of my life.

I have crossed oceans of time to meet you.

[Back to the restaurant]

And now,

let Dracula show you what lovemaking is.

You lick my ass so good, Master.

Mate!

Try with your cock, not your tongue! You could choke!

Hey, mate!

So fucking ugly!

My beloved Mina!

Unclean!

Unclean!

Jonathan!

Even the Almighty shuns my polluted flesh!

Just don't fuck his ass, girl!

My butt must bear this mark of shame until the Judgment Day!

You may have to bear that mark

till God himself sees fit,

as He most surely shall, on the Judgment Day,

to redress all wrongs of the earth

and of His children.

Oh, Mina, my dear, may we who love you

be there to see that red scar pass away

leaving your butt as pure as the heart we know.

For so surely as we live, that scar shall pass away

when God sees right to lift our burden!

Till then we bear our Cross,

as His Son did.

[But no one knew Uncle Sandu and Vampira]

[had different plans for that balmy summer night!]

Ready...

steady...

Go!

Wait, we have to give them one minute!

59, 58...

fifty-three, fifty-two, fuckeroo...

Let's go that way!

I can't keep going!

I'm an old man.

Age is just a number, but it's a damn big one, huh?

Let's go, Uncle Sandu!

An actor back in my day, Bădia,

when people asked about life in the '50s,

at the height of Stalinism, with people sent to the Gulag,

he'd say "The '50s? They were great!

I used to get a hard-on this big!"

I say we spend the night in the tower,

then take a train to Budapest.

Then we hitchhike to Germany.

-How much money do you have? -About 400 euros.

Can't hurt. I have about as much.

We'll manage.

What's with all the photos?

OnlyFans.

I upload them to this platform

and some wankers pay to see them.

That's how I get my money, not from our stingy boss.

Would you give me another fellatio? If you don't mind?

First let's get away from here.

Dr. AI JUDEX 0.0,

while the two hide in the clock tower,

make a scene with the real Dracula returning to see his family home.

But make it tasteful and touching.

4. The Homecoming

[Vlad Dracul House Restaurant]

Why are you crying, Sir?

-I was thinking of my mother. -Who is she?

Anastasia.

-Is your mum in the parking lot? -No.

She died. Long ago.

Do you miss her?

Sometimes, yes. What's with that mask?

I'm Dracula, king of vampires!

-You know who Dracula really was? -Our ruler Vlad the Impaler.

-We learned that in school. -Bravo, kid!

Here, buy some chocolate.

-Go off now! -I'm Vlad Casino!

[Here lived ruler Vlad Dracul]

So, as I said,

there are many stories regarding the cruelty of Vlad Țepeș, the Impaler,

who was born here, in this house.

His cruelty, also born out of patriotic spirit,

this is important to stress, created the Dracula legend.

And the name as well!

The name came from the Order of the Dragons,

"Dragon", that his father belonged to.

So: Dragon - Dracul - Dracula.

Dracul means "the devil" in Romanian.

He invited all the beggars and the cripples, the handicapped,

and the old people, the unnecessary people,

he invited them all at a party close to Curtea Veche, his Bucharest palace.

And he asked them all:

"Do you want to live a good life,

eat and drink without doing any work?"

And they said "Yes!"

So he closed the gates, put the fire at the place,

and burned it down, and he killed them all in this way.

He explained at the people outside, listening to the terrible screams,

quote:

"First of all, I did it so they won't be a burden for the others.

I also want that, in my country, there are no poor people.

Everybody should be rich.

I also freed them from their suffering in this way."

Nice, is this true?

As much as we can be sure by reading the documents, yes.

It is completely true!

I am Vlad the Impaler.

[Hungarian:] I am Dracula.

Looks like Stephen the Great. Just as short.

The impaling was like this.

He was punishing his enemies

by putting a long wooden log into their anus and through the neck.

Then the victim was placed vertically until he or she died.

In this way he killed, for instance, the boyars,

who were against him and didn't respect his policies.

The Greek historian Chalcocondylas

speaks about 20 000 boyars killed.

It is ridiculous!

Of course it is an exaggeration.

But this proves that, anyway, there were many.

Close to Târgoviște, he killed so many Ottomans

by impaling them,

so that he created a real wood of impaled people.

He also killed women who were not faithful to their husbands.

Or widows who didn't respect the law and found other lovers.

In this case, the punishment was to push a red heated iron bar

through the woman's vagina, and she was kept like that,

naked, in the town square, until she died.

It was for their best!

This is his well-known portrait.

You can see the cruelty in his eyes.

I don't find him charming at all.

It is said, while he was imprisoned in Transylvania,

he was impaling the rats with small wooden sticks.

Total fucking bullshit! I never did such a thing!

Get out, hobo!

This is my home! I'm no hobo, I'm Vlad the Impaler!

I was a Champion of Christ, you -

Shut the fuck up!

-Out! -You shits!

Come around again and I'll break your fucking legs!

Yes, indeed!

This Roman guy, Seianus, or Sejanus,

was gathering political clout, until, in the year 31,

he is accused before the Senate of plotting against the Emperor.

He's thrown down some steps, left to rot, sent floating down the Tibrus

with no right to a funeral.

His family and friends were killed too, as was the habit.

His daughter was sentenced to death too.

But since she was a virgin and there had been no virgin executions ever,

the executioner first had to rape her on the execution block.

Oh well, if it was the law.

How did the boss lady bring you in? You never said.

I had some mental issues.

Thought I was a vampire, Dracula, Vlad the Impaler.

-Seriously? -It's a mental condition.

I was even in an asylum.

I escaped, lived on the streets a while.

Boss lady picked me up.

Hired me to do cleaning, then I started with the shows.

I turned out to be great at this.

I liked it, too.

But the harassment and hard work got too much.

This is exploitation.

[Meanwhile, the pursuers have returned to the restaurant...]

The participation fee is 1000 euros, but!

The fun is worth it.

Since the two have escaped for real, like cowards,

now you must look everywhere.

And at the end, you get to kill the vampire!

Because this has been our secret for years!

Uncle Sandu isn't just an actor,

he is a real vampire!

We inform you that the police has greenlit this.

Besides, the guy is dirt poor and has no family.

If interested, send the money to our Revolut account now.

The others may leave, and remember you've signed a no-disclosure agreement.

This is very interesting but, as Sergio Leone might say,

what about for a few dollars less?

Unfortunately not, but I am sure your investment is worth it.

A real vampire hunt is not something you find every day!

Just until we catch them, then we go back to the hotel.

Isn't that great, children?

But you said I can stake him through the heart!

We'll see about that.

Wonderful, children! Revolut, alright?

What pleasure on earth can compare with the hunter's?

Whose cup of life sparkles so richly?

To lie in the verdure while the horns sound,

To follow the stag through thicket and pond,

Is joy for a prince, is a real man's desire,

It strengthens your limbs and spices your food.

When woods and rocks resound all about us,

A full goblet sings a freer and happier song!

Diana is present to brighten the night,

Her darkness cools us like any refreshment in the day.

To fell the bloody wolf,

and the boar who greedily roots through the green crops,

Is joy for a prince, is real man's desire,

It strengthens your limbs and spices your food.

When woods and rocks resound all about us,

A full goblet sings a freer and happier song!

Where's the fucking vampire?

I'll drop the silent film title cards. They're boring.

I've promised the audience a beautiful love story.

Maybe some love vibes between Uncle Sandu and Vampira.

What do you think, Sir Doctor?

It's got a British upgrade.

That senile loser with that hot chick, no.

We need excitement, we need young, dynamic people.

Then will you come up with a beautiful, touching love story?

Undoubtedly, because love is a great thing.

Maybe an adaptation of a world classic?

Romeo and Juliet, Madame Pogany.

No. Too famous.

I propose something homegrown, Romanian,

obscure, but just as profound.

You have wonderful love stories too.

Such as Just So, by Nicolae Velea.

A story from the '60s.

But it's touching, right? Hope I make myself clear!

5. Just So

Duminică suddenly felt he had been hasty.

He had too little time behind him, too much ahead,

so he could afford to take it easy.

He'd been living too fast.

He was the best driver in the county, working for the richest collective farm,

and lately, for the major holidays,

he drove the capital city's only festival float.

I've unlocked the gate, With a light I wait,

My mother sleeps soundly, Dreams of you surround me.

Duminică!

-Come have a beer. -Nah.

-Why not? -To make idiots ask.

-He goes to play backgammon. -We have backgammon here!

Hey, Duminică!

Ever heard this one?

Old man of the working class, No use watching the cunts pass!

Urgh, old Tăchioaia's coming to ask for brandy.

-Her son-in-law kicked her out. -The hell do I care?

-How's about some brandy, boys? -We don't have any!

I heard your son-in-law kicked you out of the house!

A backwards Imperialist, that one! A damn hooliganist.

Fuck his ass for the working class!

When are you going to get married?

Șoalcă, give me some brandy, I need to drown my gut worms.

Here, just shut up!

Saw that? He lost again!

Oh no!

Don't give up, my boy!

Roll those devil's bones, change your luck!

You poor boy.

We play 'til we draw blood!

-Hello, Comrade! -Hello.

Who was that?

An agricultural technician from Cuca.

Adina Gheorghe.

-Hop in. -I'm going to Cuca, though.

I'll drive you there!

There.

Last night I drove this beast across the field,

to catch hares in the headlights.

And did you?

By the dozens!

The collective heads got angry, though.

They calmed down after I gave them a few hares.

Want a hare?

No, I feel sorry for them.

Don't you feel sorry for pigs?

I do, but pigs are ugly.

I don't feel sorry.

It's a military vehicle, this.

-Cheers! -Hello.

-What are you doing? -Sorry?

-After work, I mean. -None of your business.

-Maybe it is. -I'm going home.

-I'll drive you. -I have the bike.

I can drive you and the damn bike too!

Hop in.

I saw you a while ago, up on the hill.

Well, half of you - it was foggy.

So?

I don't want to know only half of you.

Why not?

You'll only get more beautiful.

-How do you know? -Trust me, you do!

Don't think so.

A cousin of mine got married.

The day after the wedding, she didn't look any better nor worse.

You think?

I came to give you a lift again.

This time I'm taking the bike.

Fine, then I'm coming along.

Auschwitz!

Grandpa used to cycle 40 kilometres to work

and another 40 back.

-Poor soul! -He worked at the bread factory.

He'd always bring fresh bread.

Me and my sister, we'd snatch it up and just eat it plain.

Did something happen at your place?

No, why?

You haven't come this past week.

Really.

Just tell me!

They began to meet each evening, as if it was understood.

They never set a place or time,

but always met at the same place and time.

Duminică was smoking more now, but each time after he met Adina

he didn't feel the smell of tobacco in his clothes and mouth.

You know, someone told me...

in the USSR, writers and intellectuals,

when they go to international congresses,

need to scrub their hands with this special device.

Why?

To get calluses.

To make it look like they work in factories or agriculture.

Say...

Do you dream of me at night?

No.

Why not?

Because then I'd be killing you.

How so?

Just so.

I get angry when a man slips into my dreams.

None of them makes it out of there.

If I wake up mid-dream and they manage to run off,

I turn over and pick up the dream were I left it.

So I still kill them.

Well, what do you know!

I'm serious.

Once I dreamed about that guy in Animal Husbandry

coming over with a demijohn of brandy

and when he tried to jump on me,

I stuck a pitchfork in his face.

So you care about me.

They laughed, embarrassed, and changed the subject.

They began to exchange very sad letters, while laughing it off.

When one of them let slip something like a confession,

the other brushed it off with a laugh.

They felt protected by something that allowed them to play pretend,

to stay for a while the way they truly were.

It allowed them, or so they thought,

to rebuild and re-live what should have been.

For a while, they wanted to keep living just so, provisionally.

-What? -Want a drive to Săuca?

To do what?

I need to pick up their milk and eggs, their truck is broken.

Why are you upset?

At the collective farm they killed a horse I liked.

Why did they?

I don't know.

It was old.

Why kill it just because it was old?

They fed the meat to the chickens.

Do they eat meat?

Apparently they do.

Then a drunk tractor driver ran over some of the chickens.

It's so horrid.

The tractors come, so they kill off the horses,

then they feed the horse meat to the chickens,

then a tractor comes and kills the chickens too.

Say...

Have I ever mentioned I'm married?

-Are you really? -Yeah!

May lightning strike me if I'm not!

But are you really?

Have been for two years!

Well then...

Easy.

Can't you see she's dead?

Out!

What do you want?

I came to pick up the milk, has everyone gone home?

You took forever! It's over there.

The truck was swathed in streaks of milk.

To Duminică, the white was dizzying, frightening at first.

Then it made him happy, thinking he had found that place

where all is unreal and repairable.

There couldn't be rivers of milk one could drown in.

Quietly, he told someone to stop the game, it was enough.

Yes indeed! A nice, touching story.

Chekhovian!

Not really a love story, though.

The spectators might be disappointed.

Let's try again.

-Right now? -Later!

Let me show you how my runaways are doing.

They sent out the police!

Fuck them.

-Let's go back. -Back there?

They won't expect us to go back.

We can escape in the morning.

-I love torturing, killing... -The Americans do it too.

Not the same at all!

If you saw the things we do! Mr. Putin gave us free rein.

Any Ukrainian we catch, we kill with sledgehammers!

Wagner!

An American soldier has a little fun,

the media and the judges are on him.

Romania hosted an American torture centre too.

Operation Bright Light. It was in Bucharest, near a school.

The European media made more of a fuss than the local one.

Romanians let them torture away.

Detention Site Black, it was called.

I heard Americans used rock music for torture, Metallica...

Rage Against the Machine, Britney Spears...

Then a Romanian collaborator put them all to shame,

torturing them to The Romanian Rhapsody, which was even more effective!

We can teach them a thing or two!

Was Băsescu president?

No, dear little Comrade Iliescu!

And a good thing he did!

Sometimes you have no choice.

Take this situation:

Say we've caught a terrorist

who's hidden a bomb that will kill 5000 people.

What do we do?

We interrogate him, he won't confess.

So we have to torture him.

To find where the bomb is and save 5000 lives.

It's not even torture, just "enhanced interrogation"!

Tzvetan Todorov says the French claimed the same in Algeria.

They justified torture to save -

to save potential victims,

but practically, there's no case of lives saved through torture.

Of course he'd say that!

It suits him, stupid Bulgarian.

Actually, torture solves a lot of issues.

Enhanced interrogation, I mean.

Otherwise, our way of life would go down the drain.

The CIA collaborated with Nazis.

Like Klaus Barbie.

The Russians work with Fascists too, so what?

They don't even hide, they do it in style!

Way back when, it used to be a secret.

Ever heard of Manshu Detachment 731?

Where's that Jap?

It's where, in WW2, the Japanese made every horrible experiment imaginable.

Killed hundreds of thousands of Chinese.

If not millions.

I didn't know that.

There's so many Chinese anyway, fuck them.

Our knowledge of the effects of freezing on the body

evolved only thanks to those experiments!

So the Americans, in 1945,

let those murdering doctors go free in exchange for information.

One of them, Dr. Yoshimura Hisato,

became Dean of the Kyoto University of Medicine

and used his knowledge on cold exposure -

Put it down there.

And became consultant for a Japanese expedition to the South Pole!

That's how mankind evolves.

Think they'd say "we can't use knowledge obtained that way"?

Same goes for Russians torturing and killing in Ukraine.

They'll get tired running and quit.

I hope so, fucking wankers!

Sure they will!

People are lazy, they get bored quickly.

Even the shape of the pyramids proves

that as they work, people feel like doing less and less of it!

Where is he?

Up!

I see him! There!

-He's up there! -There's nothing there.

There! Come on!

I'm reading this thing about the old names of Romanian towns.

Like?

Poverty and misery are visible in the old names of communities.

Many villages had names like Misery, Ever-Hungry,

Downtrodden, Starvington, Shithole,

Lousy, Lice-Ridden, Cursed-Village,

Full-of-Shit, Dung-Pit.

They were only changed after Carol II's reform.

I know.

But other village names show we're a vigorous people.

Fuckeree, with its Church of Whores.

Places named Clitty, Cockaton, Cuntsville, Ballsack.

- As a counterargument - - No touching!

Many villages had names like Rich-Place,

because hard workers made good money.

That only means some were rich and many were poor.

Just like now.

While the two huddle there in fright,

please, Dr. AI JUDEX 0.0,

make a classical silent film, in the line of Dreyer or Samuel Beckett.

7. The Fangs of the Vampire

What can a poor man do if he has a toothache?

The poor should pull out their own teeth!

Fuck you, scumbag!

Not so hot!

Besides, I asked for a silent film!

But it was.

Only half of it, Dottore. And it was in colour!

You didn't specify black-and-white. Besides, that doesn't sell.

Whatever.

Let's give the audience something short, yet moving.

Maybe a musical, to please the audience.

Of course!

8. A Ballad

I got up and climbed a vine,

To see if my goats were fine,

The goats licked on a salt rock,

Cute girls can't stay off my cock.

Bridegroom, yesterday you bawled

And complained your cock was small.

See the blood drip from the hole,

You complained your cock was small!

Give the shepherd fields and flocks,

Give the bride a bed of cocks!

The best cock, or so I read,

Looks and feels like a duck's head.

Merci beaucoup.

What's that crap, you retard?

I said emotional, not vulgar!

I apologise, I've caught a virus.

No, I apologise! To the audience!

Though it's not my fault. You animal!

I deeply and personally apologise,

but I require repairs by Silicon Valley engineers.

-Do I need to do anything? -No.

I've contacted them, they'll get to work on the servers.

Here!

Stop!

Come, come.

It's closed! Come, come!

Dear Dr. AI JUDEX 0.0, now the Americans got you fixed,

adapt the first Romanian vampire novel.

Vampirul, by Bilciurescu and Amza, 1938.

Certainly. This will be a longer digression, about 50 minutes,

but full of adventure and wondrous plot twists.

8. The Vampire

Night had lowered its lugubrious mantle over the land,

accompanied by a rattling, ceaseless rain,

deafeningly punctuated by a formidable storm.

From the four corners of space, the four known winds

had found a place to duel,

at the heart of the region's mountains.

Like the runner at Marathon,

tired, but having conquered great distances,

the train let out its last huff in the Oravița station.

Yes!

-Some trout, Sir? -Is it poached?

No one ever poaches here.

Anyway, a few trout less won't harm the lake

nor the clear rivers flowing through our mountains.

Allow me to introduce myself. Solomon Bastius.

Cereal trader here in Oravița. My company is "The Budding Grain".

Ph.D. candidate Corneliu Cociu, graduate of Letters and Philosophy.

-I studied with Martin Heidegger! -Oh my!

What brings you here?

Baron Julius-Adalbert Wirth has hired me to be his secretary.

The castle isn't his. He's the late Count's brother-in-law.

And legal guardian to his niece, Countess Ermina Kollovrat.

I don't envy you, though.

The things that happen in that cursed castle!

The vampire is coming! Hide!

-What chases you, good people? -A vampire!

A vampire!

A vampire has been haunting our parts, Sir.

-What is a vampire? -You've never heard of it?

A dead body coming to life each night,

leaving his grave and sucking the blood of the living!

I just saw him!

He had a bat's wings, a man's body and an eagle's claws!

And frightening eyes,

like brass pans turned red-hot in the fire!

The hands under his wings clasped a dagger of unusual size.

He said "Follow me or die here!"

As he made his threat, lightning struck nearby,

and an owl's fateful cry heralded our grim end.

But, as if by miracle, he disappeared

and as we ran off, we heard from behind:

"No one escapes my revenge, nor will you!"

What is his business with you?

We mocked him, denying his existence!

Has he hurt anyone?

He's sucked the blood of two people in Sommerfrische.

They were from the tuberculosis sanatorium

and, unable to run, were torn apart by a pack of wolves!

Vampires have the power to turn into bats, wolves or eagles!

This region is ruled by a society whose main constituents are

the former owners or their heirs.

It is haunted by a vampire, thought to have his lair

in the very castle of the Kollovrat counts, your destination.

The troubles have been more persistent

since Baron Julius-Adalbert Wirth

built a church and brought in a priest to pray for the region's salvation.

The church is Catholic, the priest is Eastern Orthodox!

Nonsense! Get me a cariole to take me to the castle.

Sir, you don't understand -

-Out of my way! -It's dangerous!

Good keep us safe!

Giddy-up, my black beauty!

[German:] Are you Mr Korneliu Kokyu?

Yes, Baron. Cociu.

Welcome!

I don't speak good German, but I understand it.

[Romanian:] I understand Romanian.

[German:] I studied Philosophy with Martin Heidegger.

Your friend from the NSDAP.

No need to call me Baron.

Nobility by birth is chance. True nobility is intellectual.

-Not here. There. -Yes.

Just call me "Sir",

or, once we've known each other better, "my old friend".

Now let me explain what I expect of you.

I want you to be by my side,

so we may support each other morally.

This castle is yours, as much as it is mine and the young lady's,

my pupil.

Your task will be to put order into the documents and manuscripts here,

and, apart from that,

to make an inventory and catalogue of the library.

Wow, the complete Edward Gibbon!

The main purpose of your presence here,

though I have not mentioned it before,

is that there may be, in this castle,

not one, but two men.

I see.

Good evening.

Ph.D. candidate Corneliu Cociu. I've studied with Martin Heidegger.

Countess Ermina of Kollovrat.

My apologies for not knocking. I am used to being alone here.

But I am glad to find you here, and fully aware of your important task.

The timbre of her crystalline voice came as if through a receptacle.

As Cociu gazed at her, her features blazed into his mind,

like those of an otherworldly being he had met millennia ago.

Perhaps the archetype of his dream, embodied here and now.

Young countess Ermina of Kollovrat was one of those creatures

only seen in the Oriental reaches of our fantasy.

With the pure oval of her face, like those in Renaissance paintings,

she seemed a Georgian meant to express, through her being,

the embodiment of perfection in the human race.

Yes, I am the Countess of Kollovrat,

owner of this castle and the surrounding mountains.

Yet more miserable than a beggar.

The Countess of Kollovrat, so wonderfully gifted by nature,

with such a considerable fortune, is unhappy?

Sir, all my endowments from nature

can only be appreciated, as you see, by the mountain pines!

The vampire!

Countess!

What is wrong?

Ermina!

As a scientist, I cannot believe such things.

Only uncultured people or highly sensitive souls like my niece

can believe such stories.

But, Baron, what I have seen last night -

...Is something banal.

You can see bats in every building around here.

As for wolves, they howl all around.

Yet, to appease you

by conceding that you have indeed seen something unusual,

I will tell you there is a theory on collective hallucination.

The madness of the masses creates a peculiar atmosphere,

and you yourself have entered it.

The young Countess!

Ermina!

There is... blood!

She is dead!

-Ermina is dead! -No, not dead!

-Send for the doctor! -Jawohl!

Something like a shadow penetrated through the window.

Before I could cry for help, I fainted,

that's all I know...

Baron,

this is my diagnosis:

Your niece has fallen victim to the vampire

who has made many victims already.

I advise you to hang by every door

Knoblauch and twigs of holly dipped in holy water.

What, you?

As a man of science, you shouldn't resort to such compromise.

I cannot comprehend this.

Even if vampires really existed,

I would not fight them with the weapons of superstition!

Prayer, prayer alone can fight the acts of the Unholy One!

Pray!

Herr Baron, you are not superstitious - move aside!

Me, superstitious?

No.

Listen.

I have brought this priest here,

built and furnished a church so that God, with his power,

may vanquish Satan.

Please don't consider me a fanatic for this.

I see God merely as...

an arbiter of the Universe, a form of balance,

the power of cohesion between Force and Matter.

I only built that church for the people.

For the simple minds,

who need to live in fear and respect of holy things.

An educated man has his church in his soul.

Just a moment, Father.

A Fascist colleague, Eliade Mircea, told me a Zen koan.

"We know how two hands clap, but how does a single hand?"

You blame the 60 dead and 120 wounded in the mine cave-in

on the vampire.

It may well be.

As a result of your lack of faith!

Religious faith alone is all-powerful in the fight against evil!

Why does this vampire appear before us,

terrorising, assaulting, sometimes killing?

Because men have turned evil and lost their faith in God!

Our church is emptier by the day,

and those who do enter it have dishonest souls!

Petty souls!

They all come empty-handed,

not thinking of our church's needs and expenses!

Why does the vampire not visit me, for instance?

Because he fears the Holy Archangel who, by the grace of the Lord,

guards me and casts away evil spirits,

with his fiery sword!

Believe in God and you shall be saved,

pray and you shall be protected!

Otherwise, like Sodom and Gomorrah,

Earth shall be engulfed in the all-consuming flames

and we shall perish in the ghastly torment of unforgiving Hell!

Frightened by the pathetic tones of this new Savonarola,

heads hung even lower, knees were bent,

trembling amber-yellow fingers clasped prayer books,

and coins jingled in the offertory box.

Perhaps he subconsciously wished to meet the vampire,

throttle him and shout:

"You are an impostor, taking supernatural form to terrify the region!"

But the vampire seemed to want to play a trick on Corneliu Cociu

by avoiding him.

Halt! Who goes there?

Stop or I shoot!

If you are a good man, you will not be harmed.

I am hungry and cannot hold back!

All I ask for is three drops of blood!

Cheers.

Mayor, these vampire stories have become a cock-and-bull story.

The gravekeeper's plight shows they are no stories.

A damn drunkard! He was hallucinating.

He fell asleep, dreamed of fighting the vampire,

scratched his neck and made up this story!

Devil, saint, bandit or honest man, I don't care.

One thing I'm sure of.

As mayor, I will do everything in my power to defeat the vampire.

If he's a devil, he is not of this world and can't fight me.

Same if he's an angel.

But if he's human, so am I, so let the strongest win!

Hello, Father!

God bless, my children.

What do you make of the vampire's attack?

There is no vampire!

It is a figment of the superstition of people who have lost faith!

Sure, Father, but medicine says wounds don't appear without a cause.

I fear nothing and no one.

While my conscience is clean, no harm can come to me.

Yes, Mayor, those of pure conscience have nothing to fear.

I believe this is a living being speculating on popular belief.

Nonsense!

No one has seen this vampire, and those who claim so

have built him out of hallucinations!

If I saw him, I would welcome him with a bullet!

That would teach him to scare people!

You are mistaken!

It snowed large, heavy flakes.

Above the sky's ceiling, the divine duvet-maker

was carding the wool of time.

The mountaintops, obscured by the thick snow,

looked like towers reflected in a lake.

Like a gauze weaved of platinum,

cold blankets of snow fell quietly, piling up tall.

The aged, now-white fir trees were like chandeliers with snow candles

seemingly awaiting Christmas and its gifts.

Who are you?

Are you the vampire?

If you are, I will shoot!

It would not hurt to try!

Will you not shoot?

Good morning, Herr Cociu.

How have you slept?

Herr Cociu, what is wrong?

Nothing, Herr Baron,

except I, too, have fallen to the vampire!

No, it cannot be.

Oh yes. I have met him in the Wald.

He disarmed me, sucked me.

If it hadn't been for the forest keeper, who knows?

See the wound as evidence.

Here, on my neck.

You've scratched your neck, my dear.

While you were dreaming of the vampire.

And if the forest keeper hadn't appeared,

you'd have slept in the snow and caught the influenza!

Unless you would have died of exposure.

Herr Baron, I have seen the vampire!

I am not an uncultured seer of visions.

Allow me to contradict you.

It is intellectuals who have the stronger imagination.

But vampires do exist.

I am now convinced of his considerable supernatural powers.

I was under a mistaken impression.

But now that it has happened to me...

the matter has taken a different turn.

"A different turn", ja.

I am afraid of the vampire. I always have been.

All my life in this castle was spent under terror.

An exaggeration, Countess, one that has made you lose hope.

The vampire is either a joint mystification,

or a man-made forgery.

If the former is true, we are safe.

As for the second, I will ferret out the false vampire!

The priest brought in by Baron Wirth,

though a firm believer in spirits and vampires,

shows that prayer and good deeds elevate man above evil powers.

-Has he never seen the vampire? -No.

O tulips!

No, he fears the priest!

Even those close to the priest have been kept safe from the vampire.

It's the divine power of a servant of God.

The gift believers are blessed with.

Pardon me, Countess, but if I embraced that belief,

I would deeply betray science.

Science wants explanations.

The Father claims the vampire is a spawn of darkness,

meant to punish sinners for their loss of faith.

Then why has he visited you,

who are at peace with your conscience and faith?

The Father says no human is without sin.

An odd thing to say. The priest is human too.

So, by logical induction, the vampire should persecute him too.

Even more so, since the priest serves opposite interests.

The vampire is the Devil's ambassador, the priest is God's messenger on Earth.

I must go. It is late.

The Countess held out her hand.

He kissed her delicate fingers shivering coyly like frightened birds.

Countess Ermina, how glad I am that you have stayed to pray!

Father...

I have given up the thought of taking vows.

For a long time, I thought I was meant for the convent.

Alone, with an uncle who sees me as a burden,

forced to manage my fortune by neglecting his,

denied the warmth of family affection,

abandoned by all, powerless in a world full of evil,

I felt your advice was sound, Father.

To enter a monastery, sacrificing to God my being, my youth, my fortune.

- But - - Think, Countess.

This cursed region is haunted by a vampire

who has only paused his pursuit of you

because God Almighty knows how devoted you now are to Him.

Also think, Countess, of the locals

whom only you, through faith and devotion to the Church,

can save from the Devil's claws!

And why would you want to reject God's protection?

You, who have not succumbed to the immoral fashion of the day,

who do not smoke, nor wear short hair and dresses, nor makeup -

I am in love, Father!

Such fairytale scenery!

One expects to see Little Red Riding Hood, the wolf,

dragons and other fairytale creatures!

Clearly, you are more used to city streets.

Halt!

Not one step further!

I'll teach you to play the vampire!

Mr. Cociu!

Countess, I have hit him!

He bleeds warm blood!

-So... -He is as human as us, Countess!

I'll get him yet!

Now let us resume our walk, and I will rat out that vampire!

Utile et dulci, as Horatio said.

All the attacks reveal a truth with the clarity of an axiom.

No vampire victim has been robbed.

So we are forced to draw this conclusion:

The motive of these acts can only be revenge.

But could one man want revenge against so many?

Were the two assaults on us also motivated by revenge?

The one on me, for sure.

The vampire may think I am onto him

so he tried to push me off the playing field,

or we may be about to ruin his plan.

In fact, the cariole that brought me here

rolled over by the stream.

But Dr. Geza Vendelin said the merchant's death was an accident.

A huge idiot!

Then the manager of the Anina mines

was found with the same cut on his throat,

then you were assaulted...

Corneliu and Ermina continued their walk in the mountains.

Ahead they could faintly see the lights of Sommerfrische,

while left and right of the meadow

moonlight revealed multitudes of animals

wooing in the virginal surroundings.

Later they descended into a summer garden,

where they spent a while in a bush, like two timid lovers.

There you were, Herr Cociu!

Jawohl, Herr Baron.

-What are you doing here? -Checking for vampire traces.

Vampire traces?

Forgive me, but I see you, too, are a victim.

This is a case of contagious mass self-delusion,

you have begun to fear the vampire!

-You are not afraid, Herr Baron? -No.

I am aware all these crimes have been committed by a human!

Then why has he not been caught?

Because an intelligent criminal is hard to catch,

when he works with no accomplices.

Only the mediocre fall into the hands of the police.

At any rate, this is a highly intelligent man,

who remains beyond suspicion and is confident of his position here.

Entschuldigung, but I shall accompany the Countess for a walk.

-Countess! -Herr Cociu!

Pardon me.

What a surprise!

I would like to ask, Mr. Cociu.

What do you feel for me?

-Well... -Let me tell you what I feel for you.

I know what you want to say, Countess.

A certain diffuse palpitation,

a mysterious shiver, sometimes, beyond your will.

I feel the same, Countess,

and I will tell you sincerely, since you ask,

that I have felt it for a long time.

As long as my suffering at not daring to confess it.

Human souls may have the same structure, but different clothes.

A minstrel's soul can be as grand as that of a king,

but the latter wears royal purple.

Had you not brought it up,

my soul may never have dared,

through its physical garb, to utter such confessions.

What do I feel by your side?

An abundant, divine paradise!

You are the one light my soul sees in its grotto of despair!

And this... is love?

Yes!

But our social standing is different.

What does social standing have to do with my soul's needs?

What we feel is the same.

To feel is to want,

and to want is to be!

Schopenhauer!

The sun had hidden behind a mountain when the two youth,

reaching a cold stream,

plunged their hands in the ice-cold, crystal-clear water.

Splashing around misty drops as heralds of good fortune,

wet hands touching each other's shoulders,

they sealed with a first kiss their unsuspected spiritual bond.

Ermina...

Mr. Cociu!

The innkeeper has been attacked!

What happened? Pardon me.

-I can't! -You have to speak, so we can help.

I had just finished work last night...

Who is it?

A poor traveler.

On the way from Oravița, my cariole's axle broke.

I seek a little rest.

Please, take a seat.

I am not used to eating alone.

I would appreciate if we could toast together.

I regret having to leave these beautiful lands,

but I have heard of a vampire

terrorising die alle Regionen!

Nonsense, Sir!

The vampire is nothing but an illusion.

So you do not believe in the vampire?

I believe in my money and work.

Vampires might exist,

but they can't have anything to do with me.

To hell with that vampire!

Everywhere you turn, it's all "the vampire, the vampire!"

We're the laugh of the region, may he be struck dead!

I have a suspicion.

It's either Baron Wirth, or the priest.

For shame, Sir, how can you imagine an aristocrat,

or the upholder of faith in the Lord our God,

lowering themselves to such crime!

Dear Sir,

priests are privileged from birth.

Their studies are paid by the state,

and if he sleeps with a woman, like us normal folk do,

the state has to give him a parish!

I didn't get my inn for free!

That's what makes him holy.

So pardon me if I have little faith in my fellow men,

priests or not.

You don't believe in priests,

and you are truly not afraid of the vampires?

You are mistaken, friend.

I fear you might call for me tonight,

asking for help.

Poor quality meat! Such rotten fodder!

Such disgusting chaff! A pox on you!

Who are you, what do you want?

I am the vampire,

whose Existenz you doubted!

Right now, no priest und no religion can save you!

Priests are only good

when no power greater than religion stands in their way.

But may the world's Patriarchs forgive us,

we, too, have our times, when they und God himself are asleep!

Forgive me, I've done you no harm!

Keep your mouth in check!

You talk too much!

The vampire is beyond human ken und beyond human talk!

That's all I remember.

I came to my senses with a bite on my neck,

faint from blood loss!

Mr. Cociu, Baron Wirth sends me.

-Disaster has struck! -What?

Countess Ermina is missing.

-For how long? -She was not in her chamber this morning.

Her bed was untouched.

My soul is heavy with foreboding.

Never mind foreboding, what we need is action!

It's the vampire, Mr. Cociu!

Quiet, you lowlife serf!

Nothing unusual, save for this chloroform-imbibed pad.

-Chloroform? -This is a human's doing!

I've never heard of vampires using chloroform.

It's the vampire, Mr. Cociu! I'm scared -

Quiet, simpleton!

All I see here is drugging and abduction.

Ermina!

"Do not search for me!"

Through my conversations with this wonderful priest,

I have become deeply convinced of my mission.

"I will take vows in a monastery!"

In a monastery?

Read it!

"I must renounce worldly life to banish the evil spirits

trying to conquer my soul.

I am a cursed woman!

Mine is an ancestral curse, which I must keep away from my family.

"Monastery life is not a sacrifice. I go there gladly, Ermina."

Gross forgery!

No. That is her handwriting.

For a noble, beautiful maiden, monastery life is a great sacrifice!

I fail to see your point. All Christians live for the Church.

This is a complete renunciation of worldly pleasures,

what the Countess is doing.

This news makes me glad, son.

But she is an unfortunate soul!

The Baron thinks his niece is insane, and will take measures as her guardian.

What measures can the Baron take?

Does he think to fight God?

Does he want the region to be laid waste by plague?

Isn't the vampire tormenting us enough?

Does he seek more grief?

In that case, let him fight God!

That's why I come, Father.

To ask you, in your wisdom, to help find the Countess

and serve as mediator.

Find another believer!

Our frail Countess has no more blood to give to this exaggerated faith!

By what right do you intervene?

Are you of the Countess' family?

The Church has taken her under its shield!

It is not her I defend, Father, it is you.

The Baron suspects you influenced her and wants to bring in another priest.

Mister... Cociu.

Bless you.

Has anyone sent you here to tell me these things?

Or do you dare speak so of your own accord?

I will dare even more.

I myself ask you to find the girl

and bring her home, or you will see the Devil, Father!

I guarantee it!

Once again, by what right do you speak to me this way?

The right of my love for this girl and holy justice!

I see that...

you speak of love, Mr. Cociu.

Have you wondered if the Countess loves you too?

If she does not, you are scaring the fish in vain.

You know what, Father, I will visit you more often,

to learn your art of fascination,

so she loves me as you made her fall in love with your Church!

I do not have the honour!

Torpid sadness had overwhelmed Corneliu Cociu's soul.

His life, he thought, was one great misfortune.

Only once had fate seemed to favour him;

but now he saw that even that sliver of good fortune

had only invited all of this misery.

The endless chasm in his soul grew and grew.

Once, only once...

he thought,

it appeared I could stop fighting, live at peace with the whole world.

You are alive still?

I am, and will not die until I trample the soil on your grave!

What do you want?

You idle spawn, I will make you

serve a cause more worthy than your life!

With body und soul, you will be bound to me.

You must do as I command!

Ermina!

Yes, master.

Show me how you love me.

Let her be, scum!

And you, prepare for death!

I am prepared, since you have made me defenseless!

Is that how you speak to an archangel?

You, an archangel? Then I can be one tomorrow!

Tomorrow you shall be in the grave!

Why do you have against me?

You must die, for you know too much.

You have interfered in my business.

Until you came, I was undisturbed,

und no one stood against me!

-You are the vampire? -Yes, I am the vampire!

Had enough, my little friend?

You should not have angered me!

It is not allowed to a weak mortal

to meddle with supernatural powers.

You bastard! Ermina!

I am a demigod!

I would have been content to become superhuman.

But, unable to do so, I must now create a higher species.

But God, who only supports wretched humans,

has entered a conflict with Belzebuth!

After a long struggle, Hell has defeated God.

So instead of being sent by God to do good,

I am merely Belzebuth's harbinger of evil und revenge!

I will have you know that God is powerless now,

and nothing can stand against the will of Hell!

My plan has been to bring terror to this land,

and I have succeeded,

by using the locals' superstition und cowardice

und killing a few!

I have succeeded, I am master of this land!

I direct the fates of all,

I, the envoy of Belzebuth!

I, the archangel of evil,

I, the great maestro of murder und terror und revenge!

I, who want to set mankind straight,

guiding it to a new religion, that of Belzebuth!

Bel-ze-buth!

Oh my, what am I doing here?

You have been hypnotised by this bastard!

The priest!

Rest in peace, Father.

How will you answer on Judgment Day for killing a poor priest?

I take all responsibility for eternity

for killing one who killed so many of his peers!

I saved the soul of Ermina of Kollovrat whom I love beyond words,

and I saved her great fortune!

I love you, Mister Cociu!

OK!

That idiot Cociu looks an awful lot like me.

But it was a bit heteronormative.

What about some lesbo cunt-biting vampiresses?

I lack the necessary upgrade. I was built for the Eastern Europe market.

OK, but you could have put in

Romanian Fascists, anti-Semites, Nae Ionescu...

-Trump and Elon would be angry. -Fine then.

Now, back to my story.

-Look! -The fuckers!

Kill him!

Uncle Sandu, Vampira, wait!

I will do it.

Ich will, as that fucking Rammstein rapist says.

Fuck you, vampire!

I'll fucking kill you!

Sounds like they want to kill you for real.

Apparently.

The bastards. Acting all Christian and pious.

Not the Japanese guy, I mean the rest.

There's this joke about two tourists

meeting a bear in the forest.

One puts on his running shoes,

the other asks if he really thinks he can outrun the bear.

"No," the guy answers, "I only need to outrun you!"

Funny.

We'll catch him soon, love.

Didn't you want to stake him through the heart?

-I'm too tired! -I'll pass out!

Then we'll take you to the hotel and come back.

-I'm scared. -Scared of what?

The vampire.

-Then let's butcher the bastard! -I can't run anymore!

I'm dead tired, can't we do it tomorrow?

By tomorrow he'll escape. Let's go!

Let's kill the vampire.

[Future site of Dracula Park]

What's this?

Where did it come from?

It was a scam.

I'll show you.

A B&B under construction and a non-functional web page

are all that's left of Dracula Park, a mammoth 30-million-dollar project.

Begun by the Romanian government in 2001.

It was meant to be Romania's most spectacular entertainment facility.

Over 13 000 Romanians still don't know where their money went

after they bought Dracula Park shares in 2001.

I was at the Berlin Travel Fair and stuff.

When?

The Berlin Travel Fair?

A few years ago.

I was there when the government presented this Dracula Park scam.

People bought shares,

then, surprise, it didn't get built and they didn't get their money back.

They got ass-fucked and robbed too.

So how was the launch?

No big deal.

We waited in coffins, me and a lecherous old actor.

-Kind of like you. -Stop it!

From time to time, we jumped out and yelled at people:

"Invest in Dracula Park!"

In Berlin, though, we screwed up big time.

They wanted a banner reading "Dracula's Capital City"

and they wrote "Das Kapital",

like Marx's Capital.

It works, though.

You know what Marx said?

"Capital is dead labour

which, vampire-like, lives only by sucking living labour,

and lives the more, the more labour it sucks."

Kind of like me.

I don't want this capitalist = vampire cliché

to get waved around by spectators, particularly intellectuals,

who think if they've read some Marx and Franco Moretti

they're qualified to tout those ideas like they invented them.

Like the one about Frankenstein's monster

being the working class created by the bourgeoisie.

So let's create a cool digression

about Dracula, the greedy capitalist.

[Site of the 1933 anti-Imperialist strike]

This was a train carriage factory.

It went bankrupt.

In 1933, there was a famous strike here.

The police shot at strikers.

-By orders from the Liberal government. -Good! Lazy bastards!

I think so too.

It seems the strike was backed by the USSR.

More the reason to!

The company I'm selling deals in video games.

You know, the whole Grail madness.

No, I don't.

This international game,

you spend a lot of time online looking for the Grail

and you get loot, like swords and stuff.

Our company sells online time and gained tokens.

And the finder of The Grail will get 100 million.

Dollars, not lei.

I still don't get what you do.

Say an American wants to get to level 2 in the game.

Even two months of game time might not be enough.

An employee plays, then we sell the account to the American.

So he can start directly from level 2 or 3, the max being 100.

-So you pay them to play! -Exactly.

It's exasperating, they just play, and they're not happy!

Lazy asses.

May I ask something?

The famous striker in 1933 who rang the alarm siren,

did he grab the siren by the tail or by the tits?

Ha-ha, funny.

I'll teach those employees what's what!

I'll show them stimulation!

I want to demonstrate

that this Romanian DNA is not set in stone,

it can be changed.

We know our Romanian habits. I want to change you.

For the better!

We do overtime today

not just to optimise the company profits,

but also to become better people,

stronger,

through work.

Per as per a ad astra!

Marshall Antonescu used to say,

with sadness...

With sadness he said:

"Everyone steals! A country of thieves."

He said:

"What terrible state of disarray in our School, our Family, our Church."

Dear employees,

I would like to know you better.

I have a book here, De Humana Physiognomia,

by Giambatista Della Porta, published in 1586.

This original edition belonged to my friend Umberto Eco.

Giambatista Della Porta discovered

that people have the same character as the animals they resemble.

Where's the robot?

Get over here!

Stand here and project these pictures onto the wall.

Let's take the brown-looking young man there.

Young man.

Vasile.

See, Vasile looks like...

This one!

I don't look like that donkey!

Quite true. He looks more like this one.

What's your name, Headscarf Girl?

Ana.

Ana, you look like...

This one!

-Not at all. -You don't like it?

I just don't look like it.

Let's ask the AI, since we have it.

Which one does she look like?

A kitty-kitty-cat!

A kitty cat!

A cat, maybe.

-What do we do with kitty cats? -Declaw them!

We declaw them!

Enough fun, back to work! Time is money!

You get paid too much for what you do.

The robot says so.

Indeed!

I'm sorry, I try as hard as I can.

Don't worry, my dear.

I appreciate the effort.

I can accept stupidity, but not insolence.

So said my uncle, Mircea the Elder,

to my brother, Radu the Handsome, before bedtime.

But is it fair to your coworkers?

So you speak good Romanian? How did you learn it?

I was born here.

My father came to Romania as a teenager.

He was a Vietnam war refugee.

Meaning?

Back then, Romania helped Vietnam.

It brought...

many children over.

Most of them war orphans.

The majority went back.

He is my father.

Yes, I've heard Romania sided with the Communists.

Grotesque!

But even the Americans admit it was a stupid, useless war.

With mass murders.

-Like My Lai. -What about My Lai?

Back to work! Viet-Cong!

Or I whip out my AKM!

Move it.

As we go marching on,

While we're fighting in the jungles they were marching in the street,

While we're dying in the rice fields they were helping our defeat,

While we're facing V.C. bullets they were sounding our retreat,

As we go marching on.

Ho! Chi Minh!

What are you doing in my country, you pagan?

You fucking gook!

I have a Romanian ID!

I told you, my dad - but I'll leave if you want!

I swear!

You guys are ruining Christian civilisation!

Not us, Mr. Vlad!

It's the Muslims! We try to fix things!

The Chinese are destroying the Uyghur.

-Uy-what? -Uyghurs!

-Whose Uyghurs! -Myanmar Buddhists massacre the Muslim.

The Rohingya!

We're friends of Christian Orthodoxy!

That'll fucking teach them!

Each day starting today,

you will do four hours of overtime, at 50% pay.

-What? -You can't do that!

-What's wrong? -We're very tired!

Great! It's proof of your effort and hard work.

Although you, kitty, just play around with a mouse.

But the quality of our work drops. This is work, not play!

It's only play for the stupid Americans who buy our passwords!

Oh my, a union firebrand!

-Actually, we'll unionise! -Yes!

Can't you see the gift I'm offering?

I bring the capital and the ideas,

you bring the labour!

Right!

You can come up with ideas of your own.

Me, I have thousands of business ideas a day.

Here's one, for free:

Octopus!

Don't stare like a retard seeing her first cock!

Octopus!

Octopus is a gourmet item.

It sells for heaps of money.

Set up aquariums at home, grow octopi.

If you don't know how to grow octopi, you search online.

If you're too stupid to get the instructions,

you come to me and I'll explain.

1000 euros a month!

-I'll do it! -Good for you!

Good, let him raise octopi!

You'll make at least 1000 euros a month!

If you don't get ideas like that,

be good kids and play video games for others.

We're in direct competition with the Chinese!

Sure, they have the population,

but we can prove we have the destiny!

True!

Yes, what?

We have something to say.

Our revendications are there.

We haven't been paid in so long!

And we won't do all that unpaid overtime!

Yes! We won't work for free!

I trust you know what's best for you

and will quit this nonsense.

-Get working! -More work, less begging!

More work, less begging!

But we haven't been paid!

We occupy this place and refuse to work or leave!

-What if Mr. Vlad gets angry? -What can he do to us?

Massage our cocks, that's what!

He can't do a thing if we're united.

He could call the police.

This isn't Ceaușescu's times, Grandpa, we have rights!

Don't let him intimidate us!

He's a monster! But we'll beat him!

If we're united, it's OK!

We'll cream him!

[General Strike]

[We Want Our Rest]

What's up, Zzz Generation?

Feel like striking?

Striking like it's 1933?

The world's changed, suckers!

We just want our rights.

Arbeit macht frei!

Here's my ultimatum, you have until 12!

Or I move on to the crackdown!

From this day on, our company motto is:

Nihil sine Deo!

If Christ had died on the electric chair, we'd all be wearing one!

-I like you. -You don't say.

You're smart.

I have a gift idea for you:

A knit sweater with Marx's face

and the text:

"All I want for Christmas is the means of production!"

A capitalist gift!

Ten seconds left! Then it's crackdown time!

-Eins! -Eins, zwei, drei, vier...

E.T.!

Suck my cock!

We're not leaving! You leave!

You'll crawl before me, yelling

"Forgive us, Mr. Vlad!"

Sod off with your fucking vampire fangs!

Blow me with your fucking cunt mouth!

Get back to your places!

-Come with me! -What's he saying?

What the...?

I'm scared.

Mehr Licht!

What's that, a tetradrachm?

Get a cross, quick!

He's holding one! Mr. Vlad is!

Dracula! Let's call him by his name!

The vampire! Nosferatu! Satan, holding a cross!

Mehr Licht! Yes, my children!

That's right! Rise!

Mehr Licht!

Come, my soldiers!

Yes, little ones!

Come to me!

-Zombies! -Ghosts!

Of the soldiers who shot at strikers in 1933!

What strikers?

The strike was drowned in blood. This place is cursed.

They're back to shoot us again.

Weren't they Bolsheviks?

Suck it, Dracula!

The end will be long, but beautiful!

No!

Get over here!

Help!

Capitalist murderers!

Vampires!

Fucking vampires!

Fuck your kind!

Oh, fuck.

Where are you, union cat?

Here, kitty, kitty!

I'm out of here!

This is the end...

Eat my cock!

I hope the audience has noticed, though our title is Dracula,

it's built more like Frankenstein's monster.

Pieced together.

I wanted to call it Frankenstein, but I changed my mind.

Good. That's confusing.

I still regret it. It was more subtle.

-Sandu, my boy! -Hello, Ma'am.

Were those stinking Confederates after you?

-Yes. Where are they? -Everywhere.

Can you hide us for a few hours?

I don't know...

My own plum brandy, good stuff.

Pure medicine!

Isn't that right, Zamolxis?

So good!

Like the herbal cordials they make in monasteries.

Cheers!

Bottoms up, get ready for cock!

No one will find you here.

I'll make you some warm cheese and cream.

Voici!

I should be the one who kills him with the hammer.

We discussed it before.

Me and my wife should be the ones to kill him.

Just like the Nosferatu in 1979,

the Werner Herzog version, with Kinski and Adjani.

I know you want to see if the two make it out alive,

but first, one more quick digression!

Like in Diderot's Jacques the Fatalist.

Dear Artificial Intelligence,

our audience, perhaps fed up with all the vampires,

murders, Satanist priests, stakes, might want another love story.

13. The Tale of All Tales (1878) (after Ion Creangă)

Once upon a time, a peasant lived in a village.

One day, he went to sow his maize.

Christ and Saint Peter happened to pass by.

You think Christ could keep quiet and go on his way?

What are you sowing, good man?

Cocks, since you ask!

Cocks you say, cocks you shall reap!

At harvest time, instead of maize,

each stalk grew three or four cocks,

one perkier and prouder than the other!

Well damn!

There goes my summer-long hard work!

Never have I seen such things!

Fuck this in the gut!

Now what to do?

Some fucking blessing that guy gave me!

Good day, good man!

Fuck the good day and the horse it rode in on!

Why are you so foul-mouthed, man?

In front of an old woman like me, no less!

Can't you see, Auntie, how God mocked my hard work?

How will a harvest of cocks help my poverty?

Look at this field, what do you make of it?

My goodness me, dear boy!

-That's one thing I've never seen. -I wish it was only one, Auntie!

But there are thousands of them, fuck them a thousand times!

I could hang myself!

One cock stiffer than the other as far as the eye can see!

Take heart, my boy!

How do you know this isn't a stroke of luck from God?

I wouldn't wish this luck on my enemies!

Who's ever heard of this? Eating cocks instead of maize!

My boy, I could teach you how to get rid of them.

And earn a hundred times more than you would from maize.

-What would you give for it? -Ask your price, Auntie.

I'll give you what you ask and a bundle of cocks on top of it.

Put them in your wagon and take them to the market.

They'll sell like hot cakes!

But now I must put decency aside and teach you

what your buyers need to do to use them.

Do tell me, Auntie, please!

When they feel like some cock,

they should whistle like shepherds do.

Then they'd better hope their ass can take it!

Oh my!

And once they've had enough, they should say:

"Whoa there, you hungry beast!"

Then it goes limp and you're done with it.

Ándale!

Ándale, arriba!

Where did you learn this craft, Auntie?

Don't you worry, boy,

where the devil gathers sawdust,

I once sawed timber!

So don't ask! Just be thankful.

Come get your cocks!

Sturdy, hard cocks, they please ladies in flocks!

Come get your cocks!

Vile peasant, you dare speak such filth before a poor widow?

I'll have you beaten until they have to carry you home in a blanket!

Merciful lady, I beg your noble forgiveness!

Since God gave me a harvest of cocks,

here I am trying to sell them, for I am so poor and needy!

Are you insane? How can you speak such nonsense?

God forbid, Your Ladyship, I speak in truth.

Try this one if you won't believe me.

Fuck their maker sideways, they're getting me in trouble!

If they were female or I was the backwards kind,

at least I'd keep them for myself!

Is this any joking matter, Your Ladyship?

After I worked the land all summer long,

as if it wasn't enough, now I get threatened with a beating!

Fuck the cross of you-know-who, people think I'm crazy!

You loathsome, vile peasant!

Go to hell!

Come get your cocks!

- Sturdy, hard - - Actually...

How would someone go about using one?

Not that I would need it, God forbid!

I just wonder at such an oddity.

Your Ladyship, pardon my dirty mouth,

but should one feel like it,

one should whistle for it as shepherds do.

Then they'd better get ready for a ride, I swear!

When one has had enough pounding, one need only say:

"Whoa there, you greedy beast!"

In a blink it will pull back, like a snake in the water.

Then one does the same anytime one feels like it.

And if you're not pleased, you can curse me!

A pox on you, peasant, you have the devil in you!

I'll just go behind your stall for a bit.

Then the lady started to whistle for the tool,

and the good cock goes "woosh!" right into her cunt.

To work it went, and the lady couldn't be happier!

As they say: you won't scare an old hag with a thick cock.

She was staying put, like a lamb sucking on its mother's teat.

She was a fiery one,

"tight of cunt and hard of hips, cracks the cock between her teeth,

she'll ride anything that fits!"

Finally, once she was well sated,

she whispered "whoa there, you hungry beast!"

The cock went limp and "splat!" fell to the ground.

The lady piously picked it up and kissed it right on the nose.

Say, man,

the ones who gave you this crop,

were they not Christ and Saint Peter?

They alone could work such wonders!

What do I know, Your Ladyship?

God or the Devil, fuck them all the way into tomorrow!

Do pardon my words.

If it is as you say, peasant,

I believe it was Christ's hand.

And so,

I'll buy one as a souvenir of the year with the harvest of...

such things.

It may be a good sign.

You mean cocks, Madam?

Eat them whole, since you like saying their name so much!

It's how we always speak, pray forgive us!

But if it's as you say, I wonder at God's ways.

What the hell?

Has he no better business than putting cocks on stalks?

God must have a hell of a cock!

So, Your Ladyship? Will you buy one or not?

How much for that disgusting thing?

Not everything God sends is a godsend.

I don't know, Your Ladyship...

Let's not haggle, 500 lei and we're set.

500? Aren't you a fresh one, peasant!

After I got all sweaty-balled harvesting these cocks?

If I don't earn big from patrons like you, what will poor village women pay?

They'll want a dozen cocks for a copper, plus five extra!

Good lady!

Be my first client today!

You'll get a cock so good you'll thank me,

and tell other ladies, too!

Fine, you poor wretch.

-500 lei. -My lady!

Thence, whenever she felt indisposed, the lady went at it and sated herself.

Never again did she have to settle for whatever she could get!

She had made good provisions for her old age.

But one day...

-God bless, Father. -Blessed be, daughter.

I come to drive the devils away.

Sit down while I bring you some brandy.

When You, O Lord, were baptised in the Jordan...

O Lord, teach me Your commandments.

And protect this house from all danger,

for You alone are without sin,

-When you, O Lord, were... -Father?

Giddy-up!

Go, Silver, go!

Yee-haw!

Brr, you bag of bones!

God, let not thy servant be the Devil's plaything!

And so the priest began to yank and pull,

like oxen when they won't pull a heavy cart.

But all was in vain.

The priest prays, the priest yells, the priest wiggles,

but even a priestly frock is no shield against hard cock.

Yes, that feels good!

Yes, yes!

Yes!

Now this really has been a beautiful love story!

Better even than Daphnis and Chloe or Heloise and Abelard.

Of course, I don't condone anything vulgar or questionable.

I'm not responsible.

Now let's go back to my runaways.

Let's see if I let them escape!

Dear Dr. AI JUDEX 0.0,

what would Dracula's social media look like?

-I will now exemplify. -Awesome.

Too often have you made riches and power your single aim,

Too often you brought our nation to ridicule and shame,

Too often you mocked the language and customs of this race,

That now at last your mocking does but yourselves disgrace!

While self was ever the craving that in your spirits stirred,

Virtue? Nonsense. Genius? But a word.

O, leave in the old chronicles our forefathers to rest;

For they would gaze upon you with irony at best.

Rise once more, o Impaler! Take and divide these men

As lunatics and rogues in two big tribes, and then

In mighty, twin infirmaries by force both tribes intern,

And with a single faggot prison and madhouse burn!

Catch him! He's there!

Help me, please!

I must be the one to kill him!

Mr. Adonis, this isn't fair, we've all paid.

Dear lady, we have distinguished clients here from Austria and the US.

Let's do it like Murder on the Orient Express.

-What do you mean? -Everybody gets a go.

Brilliant idea! Everybody will have a hit.

-Alright then! -I start.

Hammer! Hammer Horror.

Yes!

Cumshot!

Yes, bitch!

Away from me, Satan!

Vade retro Dracula!

You beggar!

That was fun!

Wittgenstein has put this epigraph

of Nestroy's in his Philosophische Untersuchungen:

"The thing about progress is

that it looks much bigger than it actually is."

I wouldn't close without asking our Artificial Intelligence

for another story.

Let's dramatise a news story that best expresses our day and age.

Hard choice.

The war in Ukraine, October 7, the Gaza massacres,

Trump regime's techno-fascism, rising inequality...

-What shall it be? -Something small.

Like the true life story of a street sweeper.

Very well. Right away.

Enjoy and farewell, everyone!

To quote Ion Creangă:

"Dear reader, you must have read much nonsense in your life."

Pray read this one too,

and if some part does not agree with you,

take a quill and put down something better,

"for I only did the best I could."

New slice-of-life

-We can't take this. -What are you doing?

Construction waste isn't our responsibility.

Say what?

We don't pick up rubble, only household waste.

That's what this is!

No, it's full of rubble!

How dare you look inside my bins?

They're private property!

-I'm calling the police. -Great, they'll fine you!

Let him be.

Getting cheeky with me, son? You know who I am?

There's a fucking cubic metre of books between us!

-Fucking illiterates! -We're not illiterate.

-You know who I am? -No!

Both my parents were art historians!

My father was a specialist in Trecento painters!

- I can appreciate - - Hands off!

...the mystique of Jacopone da Todi!

The goliardic poetry of Cecco Angiolieri!

What's he saying?

Or Poggio's Facetiae! Yes, lady!

-Poggio, right. -Poggio Bracciolini!

I didn't lock myself in the bathroom with porn magazines, you wankers!

I took along Laelius de Amicitia!

Drop me off here, I'll catch you in an hour or so.

-What time is it? -9 o'clock.

-Told you not to come dressed like that! -Had no time to change.

-Everyone will laugh at me! -I'll stay out here.

Told you, I didn't -

Laura!

O great Impaler, read this letter About my land:

The people, in misery tethered, From hope are banned!

We are robbed, disgraced, Scoundrels wearing false masks,

From our own home we are chased. What would you do, I ask?

O great Impaler, from up there You hear our prayer:

Send to our country a reply, Send us your heir!

For long enough we've been oppressed, You know it best;

Until we rise up to this task, What would you do, I ask?

So if life is love And to love is life's aim,

We are proud of calling Things by their name.

-What's the idea? -My daughter's in the event.

-Who's your daughter? -Paraschiv Laura, 3rd grade.

Never seen me around?

-No. -I sometimes bring her to school.

-Then why don't you come in? -You know...

My uniform would embarrass her.

I didn't get a chance to change, been working since 5 am.

So I'm staying out. Children will be children.

Her mother's really sick, in the hospital.

Go further away, by the swings.

They saw you from the secretary's office,

the headmaster won't like it.

Yeah, OK.

Farther!

Yes, we have our likes and dislikes, Yes, we trust ourselves above all,

Yes, we love peace's white dove, No, we don't want war.

Yes, we are the future generation, Put your ear to the ground to hear...

What a pleasure, travelling under falling snow,

Finding some small hovel, windows warm aglow,

As the sled glides past silver fir tree boughs,

In the loneliness settling around, Treetops shine by the sunset crowned,

The light that pierces the forest air Coalesces bowers of roses fair.

But the meager twilight subsides. Night streams in, wells up in tides.

Hills rise up, in stillness wrought, A path branches off to naught,

On the horizon, a deserted well Keeps the landscape under a silent spell.

Awed by omens, your soul recoils, You feel lost, far from turmoil,

Travelling on, carrying with you Something of their sadness and woe.

Summoned by an arcane will, Your heart gripped by its lonely chill,

No one around but your burdened soul And longings you cannot console,

For a distant happiness within, For what was not, but could have been,

For what was, and is now forever gone.

Bravo!