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Iron Sky Zero:
Whores and Monsters

Copyright 2013 - 2017 Aaron Agassi










Under the eerie moon light, by the smoldering wreck of a crashed flying vehicle in a snowy waste land, an impeccably manicured very feminine hand wipes two teardrops from a beautiful pair of hazel eyes. Vamipirella flashes back to lost Draculon, the rivers of blood, running dry as one of the twin suns, a variable star, intensifies its radiation. The tear drips hanging from her finger tips, focus the light of twin stars rising over the South Pole, and twin spiders materialize over the back of hand! Mysteriously, the moonlit shadows diverge into two! And the twin spiders set to work upon a great web resembling a loom over the branches of adjacent trees in a grove, are spinning Vampirella's signature scanty costume over Vampirella herself, slowly and languorously rising and emerging into the gloom from the obscuring web strands, slipping on her arm band and bracelet. More smaller spiders slip down their strands, to comb her lustrously layered raven tresses, whilst the larger twin spiders attach her signature earrings.
But the earrings, and as we full back, the hair, can be seen to be hanging the wrong way (until obscured by collar sliding down to cover them), because, as we understand when the camera rotates, Vampirella is hanging by her heels like a bat, her boobs compressing towards her neck as the webstrands consolidate into her costume, and the web thereby dissipates. Vampirella stretches down one arm over her head, crossing it with the other in a manner reminiscent to that of the position of the crossed legs in the Hanged Man Tarot card that she produces out of thin air, in the idle legerdemain of an impromptu card trick. But failing to notice the two spiders having returned to the back of her hand, she inadveritently tweaks them between her fingers, and the bite her before dropping off a sailing off on spider silk parachutes in order to lay their eggs.



Flashback: The eerie shadowy submarine like interior. There are sounds of struggle hand to hand struggle, gun fire and screams. Vampirella is locked in mortal struggle with the crew. Vampirella kills them all, their blood dripping down her chin. One remains standing, drops his blaster, raises his shaking hands begging: "I'm just a scientist!" Vampirella lets him flee. But meanwhile, one that Vamprella has drained, with his last breath crawls over to the control panel and launches the ship, with Vampirella trapped onboard. She finds the autopilot set to course. Then the control panel, already smoldering from errant gun fire, explodes! As the ship takes off, Vampirella bangs on the hatch, but its too late. The ground outside, and the fleeing scientist, recede beneath the rising craft.

An urgent voice from her communications bracelet commands: "Vampire Ella, report, report!" But the signal goes to static and fades away. Vampirella composes herself, and takes stock of her situation, licking her lips at the sight of hundreds of people in the cargo hold, suspended in hibernation tubes. Vamprella, fangs protruding, licks her lips, famished an drooling.

But even in her voracious blood thirst, Vampirella is transfixed in amazement at the view out the cockpit windshield:

The autopilot maintains the craft on course for a great aperture at the pole of the decimated planet Draculon. The horizon curves into a ring, as the craft plunges through the inside out planetary interior, at the center of which, the engines cut off and vessel becomes suspended in microgravity until all is silence!

Out the cockpit windshield Vampirella beholds a view from outer space, in perpetual shadow of permanent eclipse behind one of twin moons, from the rays of twin suns. Vampirella, voice over: "I have lost all track of time wearing on in this place. Plenty to eat, just no one to talk to. I think that they are all brain dead! -Only good for food when I revive them. I take what I need and put them back. Later they regenerated the lost blood, and provide me another meal." The EEGs are all flatline. "I don't know why. I can find no record of what might have happened or why they are here. And yet I can feel them all accusing me, trapped here as I am, with no one to blame but myself. I yearn only to join them in hibernation stasis, if only I could be sure not to wind up in a permanent vegetative coma myself. And I fear any less than warm welcome upon arrival." Insert edit: Vampirella at work in a makeshift chemistry lab. "I've been trying their food, an amino acid fluid drip sustaining the sleepers intravenously, that I have reformulated in better imitation of blood, even in a concentrate, small and light weight, never spoils, easy to carry and conceal, ideal sustenance for a fugitive behind enemy lines, avoiding confrontation and avoidable risk, also minimizing collateral casualties more innocent than these invading marauders. I keep finding myself thinking the very words of the one I spared: I'm just a scientist! But who am I now?"

Vampirella is balled up in a corner, floating in a fetal position, her head in one hand, drumming on the steel deck with the splintered finger nails of the other. Finally she bolts to her feet, screaming and throwing a tantrum. But then, through the portal, Vampirella spies the horizon of the Earth closing in! The craft has been taken by a mighty tailwind, now buffeted and tumbling through the stratosphere. She dashes to the control panel, now half disassembled, wiring strewn over the floor, but still cannot make it work! Things become hazy for Vampirella

A montage ensues, of variations on this very scene. Vampirella, dressed in her signature costume, struggling to pilot all manner of different craft in impending collision: land, water, sky and interstellar space, even wearing a leather version of her costume while struggling to reign in a flaming Pegasus!

Cut to: Pan up from close-up upon an old-timey oscilloscope, to reveal an antique television set, displaying the same waveform, inside the cavernous Sleestak library of skulls. 

The Control Voice speaks: "How is destiny best confronted? "To thine own self be true" sayeth the Bard. Yet the timid cautionary, the word to the wise, ever remains: always to mind which way the wind blows. Think what you like, but keep it to yourself and do as you are told in order to survive. Yes, it's easy and popular to declare that you are who you say you are. But the powerful ever proclaim that no, you are who others say you are. You are who I need you to be. So who is Vampirella?

"That's easy: Everybody knows that Vampirella is her costume!" 



Flashback: In her idle curiosity, Spiderella finds a utility for hacking the moon laser on one of Anfortas' laptops, and watches the feed as it broadcasts an alert of the collapse of the Whispering Castle. "A range finder. But who's watching?" she ponders, zooming the video feed in and out from the Earth in the lunar sky, all the way down to the fresh smoking ruins of the Whispering Castle from above. Then she pivots the laser, taking in a panorama of the surrounding lunar landscape. Next she trains the laser on a nearby bolder, and melts the facing surface smooth with a powerful burst, until it becomes reflective. And the refection is revealed on the side of the laser mount, a swastika! "Uncle Vlad!" calls out Spiderella. "Can it wait?" replies Dracula. "Okay." Agrees Spiderella, like a good girl. Well, she did try to tell him, she smirks!

For even as Spiderella hacks the Moon Nazi laser, Vampirella almost fights her way free; well and bravely, inflicting heavy casualties, until, Dracula once again makes use of his mesmerism, this time to compel Vampirella to sprout huge bat wings, awkward and constraining in the narrow collapsed space.

Penny has located a video file that she watches on the laptop. It's another edition of 'Vampirella's Cavalcade of Taboo'. In one window, archival images are displayed, intercut with the table top pan from the opening of the original 'Iron Sky' trailer.

Clamor rises and moving shadows fall, as the Leather Nubs arive and all Hell breaks loose...

In another window on the laptop screen, Vampirella narrates: "Lebensborn Eingetragener Verein was Himmler's SS-initiated, state-supported, registered association in Nazi Germany with the goal of raising the birth rate of "Aryan" children via extramarital relations of persons classified as "racially pure and healthy" from the perspective of Nazi racial hygiene, health ideology and pseudoscientific Nazi Eugenics. Lebensborn encouraged anonymous births by unmarried women, and mediated adoption of these children by likewise "racially pure and healthy" parents, particularly SS-members and their families.

"Lebensborn, German for: 'Fountain of Life' was the sinister Nazi Eugenics SS program for breeding their master race, taking the place of those exterminated of the Holocaust in order to make way for them! After the end of the Second World War, women known for fraternizing with the enemy, even as resistance spies, where abused and humiliated along with the offspring of such issue, legitimate or illegitimate. This applied no less tragically to Lebensborn.

Now the aging Lebensborn kinder, the hapless SS bastards and Nazi kidnapping victims, abandoned and despised, sometimes even hidden away and confined to Psychiatric institutions, poignantly searching lifelong for their roots, have finally begun speaking out.

"But none so outlandishly as the hither to eminent rocket scientist, Hans Rupenhorn, now increasingly regarded as a crank. It has been said that precisely because he is so evocative, Rupenhorn is still regarded as a leading rocket scientist, by colleagues incapable of taking him literally." Rupenhorn speaks: "Shortly after Neo-Nazi UFOlogist  and Holocaust denier Ernst "Mattern" Christof Friedrich Zündel was released from prison in Germany on March 1, 2010, five years after his deportation to Germany from Canada, that family-friendly whitewash of as movie 'Iron Sky' found a backer and went into production. Coincidence?

"'Iron Sky' blindly perpetuates the Occultist Neo-Nazi propaganda from which it derives, wherein glowing accounts of subterranean Arian Utopias under benevolent alien guidance, propaganda fabulously strie to rehabilitate Lebensborn without mention thereof, excising the Lebensborn kinder from our own story, denying our struggle, abandoning us all over again.

"But if conditions are so Utopian, than why does the so-called Illumi-Nazi regime so struggle with the contraband in Western media and Schnapps? In truth, they are a captive society much like East Germany, but SPAM-in-a-can on the Dark Side of the Moon, a society even the more on the brink. Therefore, after such long preparation, ready or not, they must finally execute their plans, while they still can!

"At the end of the War, many records where hastily destroyed, the truth still withheld from the public at large: How not only their greatest athletes, but Germany's most brilliant minds where called upon to participate. And in 1945 Nazi rocket scientists spirited away who knows how many thousands of blond blue eyed children to secretly continue breeding their Master Race in captivity on the Dark Side of Moon, refining the antigravity technology stolen from Nikola Tesla by the Vril Society, and raising an army of conquest for their return to Earth, their birthright. -or so they are indoctrinated to fervently believe."

Vampirella: "But one of them -or so Rupenhorn claims- still has a brother on Earth still searching for him, Rupenhorn himself, a rocket scientist and troubled adult Lebensborn kinder, still wondering about their father whom he seemingly suspects to have been none other than -wait for it: Werner von Braun, agonizing therefore: Was Daddy a war criminal?"

-Here, in illustration, music rising, the original 'Iron Sky' trailer footage continues to be repurposed.-
... Bringing us back to the Dark Side of the Moon, where a pressure suited motorcycle courier riding along an Autobahn towards a massive and intimidating swastika formed Albert Speer architecture while a massive force of Moon Nazi attack saucers await deployment from their launch bays.

Rupenhorn continues: "We Lebensborn kinder abandoned on Earth, can only wonder at the fate of our brethren shaped at the hand of the resentful and defeated Nazi state in exile on the Dark Side of the Moon." Vampirella: "This enigmatic metaphor, if that is all it really is, has earned Rupenhorn accolades as literary genius and social activist, mastering ideological jujitsu upon the noxious likes of Ernst Zündel, as that rank travesty 'Iron Sky' should have done!"

Cut to Mission Control: "All sensing and imaging systems are now trained upon the lunar surface." Systems are tracking the trajectory of a space probe entering lunar orbit over the dark side of the moon.

Cut to The space probe over the Dark Side of the Moon, while unseen back at Mission Control, a lunar synchronous orbiting space station  hangs stationary over head! It is a great wheel, turning for artificial gravity, as seen in '2001: A Space Odyssey", except that instead of cross beams from the center to the rims, the wheel radiates out from a gigantic swastika form! On board the space station Nibelungen, commands are barked out in German, subtitled: "Stand by to rig for silent running. Initiate silent running!" All goes dark. Outside, as the space probe approaches, the great rotating swastika wheel goes dark. While, back at mission control, no one is at all the wiser.

As the space probe approaches, hurtling past the darkened space station, inside the Nazi Moon base, the order rings out: "Prepare to deploy camouflage. Go for unfurl." A great crater pocked fabric form is stretched out by cranes high over the entire Nazi Moon city. Inside the Nazi Moon base, the next order rings out over the speakers: "Begin inflation." In response, teams of Moon Nazis fan out to begin hooking up massive pressure hoses. As the camouflage fabric form continues unfurling, it also begins to inflate into convincing lunar landscape, concealing the entire Moon Nazi installation.

Meanwhile back on Earth, a VIP is ushered into Mission Control. "As I live and breath, it's Hans Rupenhorn!" calls out one of the technicians at his station. "Have you found your brother?" everyone wonders. "My brother is on the Dark Side of the Moon." Taking this as a figure of speech, everyone is conciliatory, patting him on the shoulder. "Did you at least track down your father?" "My father is Werner von Braun." states Rupenhorn, flatly. An enthusiastic cheer of approval raises up in response, to what again is taken only metaphorically.

Meanwhile, back within the Nazi Moon Base, the Moon Nazis stumble and fumble with the pressure hoses, and just as the Lunar probe orbits overhead, the massive camouflage falls flat over the massive and intimidating swastika formed Albert Speer architecture, producing a distinctly swastika formed lunar landscape feature!

"Well, I hope no one notices." remarks one Moon Nazi to another.

Soundtrack: The following verse from Spike Jones' 'Der Fuehrer's Face': 

When Herr Goebbels says we own the world and space
We heil, heil right in Herr Goebbels' face
When Herr Goring says, they'll never bomb this place
We heil, heil right in Herr Goring's face

... As, meanwhile, back at mission control, the image comes in of the distinctly swastika formed lunar crater! Gawking TV viewers around the world, are also treated to the sight! Commentators compare the image with that of the notorious face on Mars. 

Meanwhile, in crypt of the ruined Whispering Castle, Renfield urgently draws the attention of Count Dracula to a portable TV set. Spiderella smirks and titters. "You knew about this?!" demand Dracula. "More than that, Master." clarifies Renfield, obsequiously. "It seems that Miss Vampirella was her source."
First we follow the backstory of the Moon Nazi science corps saucer cadet Burkhart von Braun. We experience the surreal dreamlike insomniac life amongst the Moon Nazis. Burkhart, looking forward to the reclaiming of the Earth, feels something missing in particular, the parents he never knew, his family. The life he is assured, one among many sacrifices towards the great cause.

But in his tour of duty in the flying saucer core, Burkhart  strays into the thriving contraband in Western media and schnapps. Included is a poster for: 'Indiana Jones and the Uprising at Sobibor'. Particularly popular are CDs, magazines and trinkets of Lin Minmei, especially recording of her hit single: 'Remember Love'.
Burkhart also likes to sneak into the kindergarden, where the little Moon Nazis are raised collectively, in order to read them forbidden bed time stories. One night Burkhart reads to them from the Silver Surfer graphic novel, wherein the Silver Surfer has taken to kidnapping exceptional children on Earth, in order to conserve humanity. Burkhart breaks down crying.
It is just then, in the middle of the night, that Burkhart is mysteriously summoned out onto the Lunar surface. The scene is just like the excavation of the Monolith in: '2001: A Space Odyssey' except with Moon Nazis, and instead on the Monolith, Adolph Hitler in a carbon block like Han Solo!
Cut to: Burkhart attends upon an an aged Hitler, recovering in a sumptuous four poster bed, like the death bed of 'Citizen Kane.' But instead of "Rosebud" Hitler exhales the word: "Protoculture," dropping a snow-globe of the Nuremburg Rally. Fade.
Many Lebensborn kinder have followed the arduous paper trail in search of their roots. But Rupenhorn's has lead him to the conclusion that his father was Werner von Braun, and beyond, to Antarctica and the impending Moon Nazi invasion. Thence to a Vernian expedition to the Inner Earth, reuniting him with his brother or sister, the Moon Nazi Oberstleutnant. But not before infiltrating Samisdat, the publishing house of Ernst Zündel and tangling with a seductive Lunazi sympathizer bent upon earning her maternity medal by impregnating herself by Rupenhorn and conserving the von Braun DNA, before assassinating him! Rupenhorn escapes the lethal honey pot alive, but disgusted with 'Iron Sky' as expressed in his interview by Vampirella, who at that time hunts the minions of Dracula under cover as an avant-guard art photographer. 


YouTube video: Hans Rupenhorn, voice over: "After the First World War, the dark occult Vril society achieved profound psychic rapport with an extraterrestrial civilization. The aliens, seduced into willful naivety, viewed the tribal petty nationalism and militarism of the Nazi cult as merely the primordial savagery of childlike primitives, transitory amid the emergence of more progressive civilizing ideas. Indeed, the aliens perceived kindred spirits enthusiastic about social and technological progress and improvement of their own species by spiritual exaltation of Aquarian Age enlightenment, ritual meditation, body worship and outreach to advanced civilizations throughout the galaxy, for rapturous union with higher intelligence beyond our world, a matter of apparent crucial importance to the aliens.

Misunderstanding was inevitable. First encounter did not go entirely as planned, and came as a shock. Therefore the aliens where impressed at the Nazis perseverance to continue. Also, the aliens seemed to like cabaret.















"So the aliens lent their support to the Nazis in the form of assistance in the advancement of antigravity technology, as a liberating means means of personal transportation, clean and limitless energy for peace and prosperity.
"But the aliens made the same mistake as von Papen and Hindenburg, in imagining that they could control Hitler after handing him such power, and as Neville Chamberlain in trusting the promises of the messianic national savior groomed by the Vril Society, Führer Adolf Hitler.

"But the aliens still denied the Nazis beam weapons or even communications lasers. And the Nazis quickly found the antigravity technology stolen from Tesla, useless as any kind of platform for conventional weaponry. The saucer's gravity field just kept payloads from dropping away! And machine gun fire sent the saucer careening backwards at near the muzzle velocity of a fifty caliber machine gun, while the bullets harmlessly tumbled of the sky. And rockets must produce thrust to escape our ship's G-field, nauseatingly spinning both the saucer and the launching rocket completely out of control! The war was over before the problems could be solved.



"By the time HYDRA, the Thule Society deep science division, had finally solved the problems by developing inertialess rail gun technology for the Panzer saucer, the war was ending and only retreat to the dark side of the moon remained an option.

"All throughout, the aliens found themselves in support of an aggressor state waging planet wide war. So they stalled on assistance with antigravity technology, delaying its weaponization by the Nazis.

"As the Nazis began losing the war, they fled to Argentina, the South Pole and the Dark Side of the Moon. A failed attempt was made to open a wormhole and take refuge with the aliens.

"Secretly protected by the Allied commandos, from assassination within his own ranks, Hitler's advancing dementia and incompetent leadership had squandered every technological advantage of air superiority on the spiteful and strategically worthless V2.

"Ultimately, with alien guidance and support, a number of Germans where allowed refuge in the Inner Earth. The aliens screened out S.S. and concentration camp personnel. But all for naught. Inbreeding just doesn't help. You can't rehabilitate a Fascist Eugenics breeding community by abetting propaganda whitewash in quietly quarantining them from the atrocities of their own ruling war criminals! The so called "ilumi-Nazis" settled in their new ultramodern city they named: New Berlin.

"Because far from an enlightened Utopia, a Nazi techno-dystopia emerged, that many escaping refugees refer to more aptly, as New East Berlin!" A video transfer from super8 begins, of buxom naked blond Rhine maidens writhing and squirming in bondage, gagged with dental mouth spreaders and blindfolded, in a facility of gleaming stainless steel.


















Rupenhorn lectures before a contemptuous audience: "Contrast this sweet and wholesome scholastic propaganda poster with the following remarkable archival footage from the gender dissidence reeducation facility, also called: the Milk Plant, both smuggled out at tremendous risk and with considerable ingenuity and personal discomfort, from New Berlin by refugees fleeing Nazi oppression."






The video is clearly a transfer from super 8. Reaction shots from the lecture audience are periodically insert edited, as on screen, the camera pans down and zooms out, revealing the gynecological examination of pregnant women in bondage, in sight of men gagged strapped down and milked as reluctant sperm donors.


















Ropenhorn continues: "The finest fertility clinics in all the world are to be found in New Berlin where procreation is mandatory. These gender dissidents, as they are labeled, include not only homosexual men and women, but free thinkers and careerists delaying procreation for work or study. These women are seen being treated for frigidity and hysteria, yes, understanding dawns, in preparation for artificial insemination."

Indeed, at second glance, the women are not merely shackled or trussed up, but actually restrained by Waldos, mechanical arms! Automated hypodermics administer breast injections of hormone shots, as the last scraps of clothing are cut away by power scrapples.

The Waldos methodically squeeze and binding their heavy breasts, suction pumping, probing and squeezing their nipples, until they lactate uncontrollably, squinting great steaming white streams and gouts of milk!

Meanwhile, mouths pried open like horses inspected at auction, they're perfect pearly white Arian teeth are power brushed and rinsed. All the while, they are washed, scrubbed, douched are subjected to exhausting orgasmic vaginal and anal stipulation, probes, water jets, vibrators, beads and more, and finally, artificial insemination, before each being hoisted up, out and of screen, to make way for the next patient, all with the same consistent automated perversion and uniform Prussian efficiency! 




































One fetching co-ed pantomimes, uproariously, being milked by her classmates. Rupenhorn contains his annoyance.

"The premise of Eugenics is fairly straight forward: Why waste the benefits of animal husbandry, of selective breeding, only on livestock, instead of doing as much for the human species as well? In New Berlin, there is no Human Capital, only human cattle."

"Observe the final enhanced hormone driven transformation of gender criminals deemed unresponsive to ideological reeducation, so that they too may still serve in in rearing new armies the Master Race.

"Still, even in New Berlin, incestuous arranged pairing in order to emphasize desired human characteristics, remain controversial, especially because of the practice of culling from fertility drug induced human litters, for only the hardiest of such issue.

"As to foreign policy, to this day, the brutally repressive and raving antiemetic Eugenics regime of New Berlin continues covertly to sponsor Neo Nazis and Nazi Skinhead terror and insurgency around the world, and participates in joint military R&D with the Moon Nazis.

"Nazi entanglement continues as an exopolitical embarrassment, detrimental to interstellar relations with NATO and Warsaw Pact nations alike. And the ever looming interstellar blitzkrieg of the Moon Nazis continues to threaten even more irreparable damage.

"Finally, in order to begin neutralizing the threat so as to calm tensions, at long last the aliens turned to a truly enlightened personality, George Soros, the Billionaire who's personal foreign policy of cost effective precision strategic intervention has succeeded where the massive and costly initiatives of nations only blunder disastrously.


"And no, we are not kept in the dark by any Zionist controlled media, but as ever, by Nazi propaganda. Still, you'd think the Jews ought to pay more interest. Maybe their all in denial again.

"But I digress: Anything to give any impression of public exposure, risked spurring the Moon Nazis to advance their timetable for invasion. And so any overt Radio Free Worlds campaign was ruled out. Hence was it resolved to help foster the already thriving contraband in Western media and schnapps amongst the Moon Nazis. Among other projects, through Soros, the aliens funneled money into promoting the sentimental ballads of Chinese national and Japanese pop idol, Lin Minmei, reasoning that, and I quote: "Nazi's are cornball!" Ironically, at long last, there was any glimmer of hope of alien redemption of Nazi society: The captive society of the Moon Nazis is a regime on the brink! However, in its very success, the covert media via contraband campaign threatens to backfire, as the Moon Nazi regime hastens to launch their interstellar blitzkrieg while they still can."


Cut to: At the wreck of the flying craft in which Vampirella crashed in the Antarctic, a swastika emblazoned black box flight recorder is retrieved. In as burst of static, cut to the footage of black box flight recorder: Spatio-chronometics normal --- Antigravs back on line --- The open cargo bay retreats from view. The flying craft in which Vampirella escaped Draculon is seen in retreating silhouette, until it is sucked back into the inner Earth through the South Polar entrance. Vampirella struggles with the controls of the Moon Nazi flying saucer, for that is what it is, as it crash lands in the raging blizzard.




Cut to: Vampirella burgles a high tech facility in order to purloin the black box, and flees as the the intruder sounds. Vampirella darts amid the shadows, as search lights glare and alarm klaxons blare throughout a vast futuristic city full of swastika banners and Nazi propaganda displays. 



Cut to a somewhat unusual dairy farm. Enter the burly farmer in his coveralls, Herr Grünjean, who to his surprise finds none other than Vampirella lounging on a bale of hay seemingly right at home with the others!

Grünjean blinks in surprise. But at second glance, the others are now sporting little Halloween attire and props. Grünjean shrugs and moves on. Vampirella, dairy suction attached, moos and nuzzles placidly with the others: "Ah, bliss!"

Vampirella breaks off momentarily, to discretely open a small crate discretely tucked under the bale of hay, and drink from one of the few remaining vials within. Vampirella then notices a package left leaning up against her stall, it is another identical crate, which she tucks under the bail along with the other little crate.`








































FADE out and back in again: In the darkness, Vampirella is sneaking back in from outside, not to wake the sleepstanding cowgirls in their milking stalls.

The light clicks back on! The cow girls awake and surround Vampirella, their backs turned. "No, please!" wails Vampirella. "You have incurred the Meidung, the shunning!" "What?" "Sneaking around at night, didn't you think we'd find out?" "You should get out more! I work part time at the cabaret. I have expenses." "You also made of it quite a night on the town." "We went out after work." "You killed your date!" "He was a ritualistic serial killer, of considerable supernatural power." "This is not or way!" shouts the cow girl.

"He was a party member" adds Herr Grünjean. "His victims where small children, all in order to heighten his vril!" "He was a party member." repeats Herr Grünjean. "We found this as well." Adds another cow girl. It is the black box. "What you came to this city for, take it and leave New Berlin." "We watched it. We don't quite understand, but we gather that it poses questions and suggests answers along your path." "And don't be too mad at Penissa for giving you up," adds Herr Grünjean. "I can be most patient and persuasive."

They embrace, tearfully. "It is not safe for you here." "It is not safe for any of us, harboring you any longer." interjects Herr Grünjean. The cow girl continues: "Take it and go, Countess Duckullona, vegetarian vampire. And do not return until you know who you are!"  

Vanpirella departs, effortlessly slinging the heavy crate of vials of blood substitute serum over her shoulder with one arm, and taking the black box by the handle in the other hand. "Did she notice that LulaBell is absent?" worries one of the cow girls. "Did she notice two of her little vials missing?" wonders Grünjean. The cow girls only return a blank stare. "I added that stuff into LulaBell's feed. It seems to help" explains Grünjean. In a clinic back room, a pale and queasy looking LulaBell rests.


Cut to: In the Sleestak Library of Skulls, two vampiric minions grovel before Dracula, wailing: "Mercy, Master!" "We were both bloated like ticks, and she was still standing!" "Had you not the wherewithal to finish her off?" roars Dracula "Vampirella would tear off our heads and shit down our necks!" "Besides, it still worked. Vampirella is on the move again." Enik, the Black Sleestak, looks on. The other Sleestaks amass, hissing and barring teeth! But they keep their distance.


Cut to: A hidden Antarctic Nazi base in a raging blizzard. Inside, a computer screen indicates in German: "Satellite uplink secure." Nazis are channel surfing on a TV set. The 'Land of the Lost' opening theme plays: "...on a routine expedition..." "Vas ist?" queries one Nazi couch potato to the other. Click, the 'Gilligan's Island theme plays: "a three hour tour, a three hour tour..."

Suddenly, a bat flutters in via the ventilation shaft, and transforms into Vampirella. Then all Hell breaks loose! On the TV set, plays a scene from 'Little Nicky', beginning as the Devil says: "Well, sorry boys and girls, two o'clock, time to shove a pineapple up Hitler's ass" and ending in "Holy Schnit!" 

Time passes. Fade out and back in. Vampirella watches out the window. The Antarctic sea is grey and violent with storm. What Vampirella there witnesses, astonishes her. Vampirella then looks to the the Nazis, tied up on the couch for explanation. "It's none of our business." states one of them, flatly. 

Vampirella, now in possession of the black box, set down on the kitchen table, interrogates the captive terrified Nazis she has taken there, feeding upon them until they become dazed and anemic, Vampirella resorts not only to her formidable powers of mesmerism, but to every resource of persuasion, of seduction, abuse and intimidation. Vampirella learns everything that her adoring captives, sniveling, weeping and broken like Renfield, have become so desperate to tell her! Background score: 'You Always Hurt the One You Love' by by Allan Roberts and Doris Fisher.

"How do you like me now, Adam?" muses Vampirella, satiated and disgusted with herself. Vampirella, naked, wears the Saint Christopher Medallion one of the Moon Nazis, half hoping it will burn her. 





On a laptop computer runs a simulation, displaying how the bowl shaped spatial inversion of the so-called Hollow Earth, Pelucidar/Skartaris/Aghartha, connecting the Earth and another distant planet, Draculon! The Terrestrial entry is a South Polar aperture, while the opening on Draculon has expanded, grown vast, into a vast maw, lending a bowl shaped appearance. Vast mountains pierce high into the stratosphere, giving the appearance of pointy devil horns. The twin moons of Draculon now have a new third companion in the planet's sky. An additional new moon of Draculon, once a massive asteroid, has become captured in synchronous orbit over the very center of this abyss, casting a shadow cone down within.

Before departing the snowbound cabin, Vampirella unshackles her beaten and dazed captives, and serves them a meal. Dracula appears! "Whole grain buckwheat croissants, with goose liver pate, so rich with iron. Milk and fresh baked worm meal cookies, a sweet and tasty protein replacement for blood donors. Can I take some home for Renfield?" "There's frozen dough in the ice chest outside." "You are softhearted, yes, Vampirella, though no less formidable. I have always known that. Therefore my dismissive contempt for you has been misplaced. I am here to amend my discourtesy of pettiness." "Here it comes."
"You know their bodies will mend, but you have so deftly broken their little Nazi spirits." "Very well. I'm asking: What must I do for them?" "Must? Do as you see fit! Remember only that the Grail will reject you because of inner turmoil. Therefore do not miser all of your disgust only for yourself. That galling bile for you, all bottled up, is everything, the very nectar and ambrosia for your new minted thralls, if only all of their debased fawning might ever provoke you! As they say, and you yourself can well arrest, no good deed goes unpunished. That is why unlike you, Vampirella, I myself play the hero, much les the martyr, as infrequently as possible, and make the most of it whenever I do. Evil is that which demeans the human spirit. Evil is my greatest indulgence. But do not call ne Sadist. Rather, call De Sade... a Draculist, if you will! I do evil all the time, and revel therein, but I am never admonished or brought to task by my eager victims, quite the contrary! But you surpass me, Vampirella. You are an inspiration! You are living vindication of the loving nature dignifying evil. Embrace that! Understand that the only thing that these broken wretches crave from you, is the hope of your favor, affirmation of their bonds of abject groveling. Can you do that? It will make you complete. Them too. Indeed, they will thrive in loving submission to your beneficent authority."
"Who am I, Wonder Woman?" demands Vampirella. "Are you?" shrugs Count Dracula. Insert edit: Video of Linda Carter as Wonder Woman, declaring: "All women are Wonder Woman, Vampire Ella." Back to reality, Vampirella: "Can't we just fight? That would be easier." Dracula: "Regrettably, I perceive that you are on a tight schedule and so we will be cut short this evening. Otherwise, truthfully, for the daunting obligation of girding my loins, I might hesitate to disturb you by indulging myself in such a mere social visit." But Vampirella is gone.
Vampirella finds herself ill at ease, forging through the blizzard, and turns back towards the base. "A clean conscience, or none at all." muses Vampirella. "Thank you." Inside, she finds Count Dracula gone. Vampirella begins tantalizing and abusing her eager thralls, just as Dracula bade her. Vampirella vents all of her contempt and disgust upon the eager fawning wretches, until she only finds herself choking on her own bile, sobbing, weeping, vomiting, piteously begging their forgiveness. First they are stunned, and then clear eyed at long last, standing or sitting upright, regaining possession of themselves.
The piercing light of the twin stars, the binary suns of Draculon, visible over the South Pole, shine in through the window, as the raging blizzard finally abates. Vampirella follows out into the vast snow fields.
The oily black bile pulses ands perambulates like living protoplasm on the cabin floor, until it begins smoking and suddenly ignites, right there on the floor boards!
Fade in: The VTOL cargo plane, for that is what it is, drifts in the microgravity at the center of the inside out world, the so called Inner Earth, shielded in eternal night of eclipse behind the shadow of largest and newest of Draculon's moons, from the harshness of the raging variable sun, Satyr the twin star to Circe. The plane is adrift in a circular course, keeping the moon opposite Satyr, as Draculon rotates and the suns rise and set. Present day Vampirella, in her familiar costume, yet bat-winged, soars through the vortex, in order to re-board the plane. "Barely moments have passed here." muses Vampirella, checking the onboard chronometer. "I could have escaped at anytime, but the microgravity and the view out the cockpit, and the calm at the eue of the storm, all conspired make me think that we where in the airless vacuum of outer space."
Within the plane, standing before crates of wooden stakes, garlic and bottles of holly water, Vampirella retracts her wings and summons up the Holy Grail in order to revive the sleepers, who, first waking and dressing themselves in hospital scrubs and slippers, then summarily bypass the shattered controls in the cockpit, with flight simulator software on a laptop with game controller, in order to land once again, through the zone of spatial inversion, the so-called Inner Earth, right back on Draculon where Vampirella first fought her way onboard.
Cut to: Vampirella, hands over her head, descending the ramp from the swastika emblazoned VTOL cargo plane. Armed pissed off Nazis await. Vampirella addresses Oberstleutnant Burkhart von Braun, sharp and resplendent in an SS uniform with Hydra insignia. "Just a scientist?" smears Vampirella. "Indeed I am making scientific history." reposts Burkhradt lightly. "How's that going for you?" "Minor setbacks..." "From flatlining your fellow scientists?" "Traitors, the lot of them, turned Gaia cultists! I found then out, polluted, impure and recalcitrant, after thorough examination and enhanced interrogation."














"Better comatose and yielding their secrets via live necropsy back on the Dark Side of the Moon, in your idyllic National Socialist Utopia, after you flatlined them all. Except that I threw a span into the works by unwittingly highjacking your plane."
"No use crying over spilt milk." "They are alive and well. We are returned to complete your mission." "How obliging." "Your brother sends warm greetings." "My brother has found his own way here." Hans Rupenhorn steps forth from amid the armed Nazis. "But time enough for fond family reunion, after..."
"Your space blitzkrieg, so long and arduous in secret preparation?"
"Why can't we just all fly away to Mars, like Daddy wanted?!" demands Rupenhorn, petulantly. "You do not approve, Vampire Ella, any more than my spineless little brother? And yet you need to see this through. Curiosity killed the cat, they say. The obligations of authority are often burdensome to the superior intellect fit to rule. I was weak and swayed by pure science and my own philosophical bent. But my military discipline has returned me to my duty. National Socialism is more single minded than any quest for truth in mundane reality instead of transcendental ideals. Because of our mystical bonds, beyond your comprehension, we Nazis will triumph." "We shall see!" smirks Vampirella. "And just whom do you presume lecture upon blood magiks?" 
"Schpocken!" barks Burkhart. "Take charge of the prisoner." Vampirella finds herself confronted by a stoical Nazi, distressingly quite immune to all of her charms. "Hmph!" protests Vampirella, folding her arms. 

















Vampirella and the dissidents, having exchanged their scrubs for Hydra robes san the hoods, join their captors, the loyal Moon Nazis, S.S, and regular army, on safari out to contend with all the perils of the forest primeval!

Out into the scorching waste, at least the dry air seems helpful in purging parasites picked up in the jungle.

Schpocken, shirtless, stoically allows the blistering sun to kill the burrowing insects and blood sucking grubs on his back. Others stop to scrub their scalps of ticks and fleas, with the desert sand. Suddenly one of women SS officers bolts and runs in a panic, stumbles to the ground, and crawling, shimmies out of her cloths, as the enormous insect larva slithers out from her anus!

The creature is summarily impaled on the elegant spike of Vampirella's stiletto boot.

Cut to: The giant insect turns on a spit over an open flame. Schpocken chews slowly and stoically. The former host of the parasite, eats with a certain perverse satisfaction. Burkhart, savoring a bite, pours schnapps from a hipflask, over the meat. 

Across the strange and burning wasteland, they are embattled with relentless desert partisan snipers!

When all are in frightened disarray, Vampirella observes Schpocken, keeping his wits about him, engaged in a sniper's duel. Vampirella taking the form of a bat, goes forth to get the drop on the Partisans in order to disable them without harming them, and then returns to the Nazis.
The Nazis collect their dead. Even the dissidents are spoiling for revenge, so that Vampirella and Burkhart find themselves in awkward alliance maintaining discipline. Cracks even begin appearing in Schpoken's stoical reserve, as he cradles in his calloused hand, of all things, a Minmei plushy keychain from his vest pocket, which he then, straightening himself, casts away without another glance.
The expedition forges on, arriving at long last, at the Forbidden City of the Sleestak. 


Decending the interior of the Lost City, the vast subterranean complex of the Sleestak, it is discovered that expedition members thought lost in the jungle, had actually been stealthily captured by the Partisans. For they are now set as human bait for the most dangerous traps within the labyrinthine Lost City of the Sleestak, where the Partisans have been waiting all the while, long expert in navigating the twists and turns of the underground complex while evading the Sleestak.


Finally the twisting chambers and passages open into a large chamber. "At last! The fabled Library of Skulls." declares Burkhart. 
"We claim the Altrusian grace!" announces Vampirella.
With that, the belligerent hissing Sleestak all retreat, except for Enik the Black Sleestak, watching intently.
The Sleestak skulls set upon display within the rock hewn chamber, illuminate: "We await question."
"In the name of the Fuhrer Adolf Hitler: What is the secret of protoculture?" demands Burkhart.
"Unlike Humanity, reptiles of the same gender where territorial, but of opposite gender, reciprocally indifferent except during mating. But then during the first age of the solar storms, the ancestors of the Altrusians where bitten by the swarming scarabs, becoming Draculon spider-children, changed by the infusion of insect heredity.

The modern Sleestak are still all drones, save for their queen. Thus we have never known individual gender relations of any kind." explains one of the skills, "That is the Voice of Natural Science." Rupenhorn whispers to Burkhart. "The ways of the mammals confound us." amplifies a different illuminated skull. "The Voice of Wisdom." clarifies Rupenhorn. "Come to the point." commands Enik.

"Very well, Enik:" acquiesces yet another Sleestak skull, pulsing with colored light. "The Voice of Ancient History." Rupenhorn clarifies. "Remember love. So is it written, anciently. The condition of male and female abiding together: culture." "Make of that what you will." councils the Voice of Wisdom.
"When I hear the word 'culture'" spits Burkhart, "I reach for my revolver." "A pragmatist." observes Enik. "A Totalitarian, an adherent to the just life under comprehensive guidance of the State, as a student of the natural order and the meaning of life."
"Freedom pursues meaning created in the mind." replies Enik. "But rigid ideological heteronomy to any natural order dictates all aspects of situation beforehand. And therein one may discover perhaps disappointment. Such likewise may have come the downfall of the Altrusians."


"There is nothing wrong with your television set. Do not attempt to adjust the picture. We are controlling transmission. Damn it, we are controlling the transmission! We will control the horizontal. Hang on a second. Almost got it. Okay. We will control the vertical. Just a second, wait, almost got it now. Eh. There.

"We will control the volu... THE VOLUME!!!! The volume. Okay, that's better. We can change the focus to a soft blur or sharpen it to crystal clarity. We can. It's been a while. Okay, got it now. Sit quietly and we will control all that you see and hear.
"What? What is it? Save your questions for later. Put down your hand. Just sit down. You are about to participate in a great adventure, to experience the awe and mystery..." the Control Voice falters and falls silent, then demanding: "The mystery is: What has happened on the Earth?"

"Many glorious things." replies Burkhart. "You went dark!" exclaims the Control Voice.

"We went digital" shouts Hans Rupenhorn over his shoulder, running away.







"Are you mad? Digital? Only analogue calculation decodes mathematical and physical data in which quantities are represented by physical magnitudes, distances, relations, voltages and currents capable of continuous change, so that solutions are obtained by creating changes in conditions or processes analogous to that of the problem and then measuring the results. The intergalactic magnetically charged plasma filaments are not digital. How will you ever learn the song of the Quasars, or the music of Neutron Stars?"

"Control Voice, we remained analog." announces Burkhart "Why, so you did. Good for you." "Control Voice?" "You do not understand, but you will..." "No, Control Voice, we can understand" protests Burkhart. "We are the Master Race, the salvation of humanity. We've worked it all out!"

"Indeed, have you? Then you are the one with all the answers! You have undertaken the quest, standing ready for the challenge? Very well then, riddle me this: Who are the pollinators of Eden?" As the giant plants begin to stir, the dissidents call out in jubilation: "We are the pollinators of Eden!"

They all find themselves hoisted skyward by the motile vines, cloths torn and bodies probed by giant stamens, covered in pollen and passed along from one gigantic flower to the next. Vampirella transforms into a bat, and escapes. For the dissidents, sighing in delight, this is rapture. But for the screaming Moon Nazis, consternation, horror and violation. Shpocken remains stoical.























As the Sleestaks flee in panic as the ground shakes and their subterranean complex is rent asunder, Vampirella is astonished to behold Count Dracula, standing right there next to Enik.

"You knew?" demands Vampirella. Dracula and Enik look share a quick glance, turning back to Vampirella. "You never asked." states Enik, flatly. Dracula shrugs in ascent.






The roots of the Eden grove reach ever deeper into the soil, until the red mud oozes forth, flowers bloom across the land, and the Styx, the river of blood, flows freely once again.

The sage spirits rise up from the dray dust of the river beds, with the first taste of the planet's quenching blood, to educate the Vampri children gathering in wonder by the river banks.

The Sleestak forced out into the open by the collapse of their subterranean complex, the Lost City, confront the radiation of the deadly variable star, with dread. But suddenly, the sky and cloud cover begin to change, comfortably muting the harsh day light of the deadly variable star. Vampirella and the Vampiri soar in celebration, as their world finally heals itself to flourish anew. 











Cut to: Sitting behind his desk in his office taking tea and scones with the secretarial pool in his offices with a view of the Lunar landscape outside, an aged Adolph Hitler receives and reads the dispatch.

"Never trust a von Braun!" grumbles the Fuhrer in German, subtitled.




Cut to the field of white:

As the host reclines allowing the symbiont to attach, and then rises to her knees. Dissolve: The host stands wearing a simple short dress of sheer fabric, the opacity or translucency whereof, varying with the angle of the light, affording glimpse of the symbiont moving beneath. The symbiont addresses the audience through the host:

"We love you."


Vampirella is her costume Gonzalez: the soul of Vampirella  [en Espanol] profile






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