“Remember, Caviezel,” said Don Wingus, “you must think of Choronzon!”
“Yes, Master Wingus,” replied Jim Caviezel. “I will remember.”
It was in a secret chamber somewhere underneath the city that this odd exchange took place. Magister Don Wingus, the infamous Algolite renegade and intergalactic criminal, was wearing a vestment robe of ebon black. His hair was long and dark, and his face, decorated as it was with a thin moustache and goatee, still showed signs of handsome distinction despite the obvious marks of lifetimes of extreme wickedness. Most of all, his pale eyes shone with an absolute hypnotic glare.
The other was a decent-looking man in his fifties, tall and rather thin, with greying brown hair and a trim full beard. His blue eyes stared strangely as if haunted by thoughts of a life ruined. He was wearing blue jeans and a white polo shirt.
“So this will help with my acting career, Master?” he continued. “You promised you would do something to help me with that. It used to be so good before the woke elites took over Hollywood.”
“Yes, I know,” replied Wingus, barely hiding a note of annoyance. “The great demon Choronzon will empower you to conquer the entertainment industry, that I may utilise it to take my own rightful place as ruler of this world. Now, turn around, drop your trousers, and bend over.”
Caviezel did as ordered, and the evil Don Wingus took his place behind him, lifting up his vestment robe.
“By the powers of the psyche-sexual transfer,” intoned the villain, “I declare that the powers of the demon of chaos shall be invoked, that it may aid us in our endeavours.”
“Oh yes, Master!” moaned Jim Caviezel as Wingus began to abuse him. “Oh, that is so good!”
“Think of Choronzon!” shouted Don Wingus as he continued violently. “Think of Choronzon! Think of Choronzon!” …
My name is Doctor Daniel Rumanos. I carry within my blood the vastly superior genes of the mysterious Watchers of Algol, the most intellectually advanced race in all of the known galaxies, whose technology is so sophisticated it appears as magic to lesser beings.
Whilst most Algolites live in elitist seclusion from the rest of the Universe, I am an operative for an organisation known as the KOSMIKOS. Assisted by the beautiful Miss Millie Drake, I protect Earth from all manner of menace. I am -- The Daemon-Star!!! …
“Jim Caviezel?” wondered Millie Drake. “I’ve never heard of him.”
“He was a bit before your time, hmmm?” I replied. “Originally from Mount Vernon, Washington, he appeared in several films and was building a good career in the business before he was blacklisted for playing the lead role in an hideously anti-Semitic film entitled ‘The Passion of the Christ’.”
“Anti-Semitic?” shuddered Millie. “He must be a horrible person then. So now he is making some sort of comeback?”
“So it appears,” I confirmed. “He is being advertised as a sort of motivational speaker doing a lecture tour -- a tour in which he is informing the public concerning the virtues of Choronzon!”
We were in our secret headquarters, located as it is in the golden trapezoidal roof of the Gateway Hotel in Atlantic City, and which contains numerous alien artefacts from our career as protectors of planet Earth.
I was clad in my usual finery, including a frilled poet shirt, purple velvet suit, and jungle boots. My panama hat and opera cape hung from a near by hallstand. My companion, Miss Millie Drake, is an exceptionally beautiful young lady -- petite and perfect with luxurious chestnut hair, enchanting violet eyes, and sun-kissed skin. The royal blue dress she wore only served to highlight the shape of her wonderful adolescent figure.
Also with us, there in that chamber filled with electronic equipment and strange mementos of our past adventures, was Kit-10 -- our mobile personal computer that resembles nothing more or less than a small mechanical cat.
“Choronzon?” repeated Millie Drake. “Isn’t that a demon?”
“Indeed it is,” I affirmed whilst twiddling my frills, “and a particularly noxious one at that. Choronzon is the demon of chaos called forth by the sixteenth century English occultist John Dee as part of his Enochian system of 'magic'. Choronzon is a creature of dispersion, its only purpose being the cause disorder and discord. Dee was only able to control it due to having the full information on the working of the magical system -- information, I must say, that has since been lost.”
“So if this Jim Caviezel is calling forth the demon now… Oh my gosh!”
“Quite so, my dear Mills. Caviezel must be stopped. If Choronzon is set forth upon Earth, the results could be the utter annihilation of all life on the planet.”
“Then we must stop him!” bravely announced Millie Drake.
“Indeed we must,” I agreed, fetching my hat and cloak. “Caviezel is appearing tonight at the Atlantic City Convention Center, and we shall go confront him as agents of the Kosmikos.” …
The sun was just setting over Atlantic City as Millie Drake and I rode down Indiana Avenue to-wards the convention centre. I was at the wheel of our specially-modified canary-yellow Edwardian roadster (affectionately know as “Lizzie”).
“It’s too bad Kit-10 couldn’t come with us,” complained Millie.
“Quite so,” I agreed, also missing the help that the computerised kitten could have given us in our strange assignment, “but we cannot be certain what detrimental effect the powers of Choronzon could have on her operational systems. It is better for her to stay at headquarters monitoring the computers, hmmm?”
“So Daniel,” continued my companion, “do you really think this Jim Caviezel could succeed in calling forth that demon? Is he perhaps a Spectral Paranormal agent and… Oh my goodness! Look!”
I looked upwards to see what had so startled Millie and beheld an horror indeed. It was an huge black shape with two glowing crimson eyes, and it was descending directly upon us!! …
Meanwhile at the Atlantic City Convention Center, Jim Caviezel was beginning his “motivational seminar”. Standing onstage in a black business suit with a blood-red necktie, he addressed the assembled audience with an air of supercilious contempt. Some noticed the flashes of ebony black light that seemed to play around his person.
“I am, of course, Jim Caviezel,” he stated, “the greatest living Hollywood actor. The only reason everyone doesn’t know this is because of all the woke garbage in movies today. But don’t worry, because right here tonight we are going to break through all of that. Yes, tonight I am going to prove my power by manifesting the force that will destroy the liberal media. Tonight I am going to bring forth -- Choronzon!!”
With this, and huge darksome mass of demoniacal powder appeared all around Caviezel, accompanied as it was by a sound as of desolate lamentation.
“This is the power of Choronzon!” exulted Jim Caviezel as the audience gasped in shock. “This is the power I wield over this world and shall use to make myself known as the chosen one to bring All-American Conservatism back to Hollywood!” …
I activated Lizzie’s modified engines in an attempt to escape the demonic form that had appeared descending upon us. We shot out from in front of it just before it would have reached the car.
“Daniel,” said Millie Drake, glancing behind us. “It just disappeared!”
“Yes,” I replied. “That was only a small side-effect of the Choronzon powers. The full force of it shall not be that easy to escape. We must hurry and face Caviezel before he manifests it further!”
We arrived at the convention centre and parked Lizzie in the underground lot, taking the elevator lift to the level on which the “seminar” was taking place.
As we entered the area, Jim Caviezel, surrounded as he was by the swirling dark forces of Choronzon, recognised and addressed us thus:
“Oh hello, Doctor Rumanos and Miss Drake. I was told to expect you. You see, there is something you don’t know. I am not some mere magic user. I am Jim Caviezel, and I have been blessed with power from one most skilled in the supernatural forces. The power is mine!”
“Daniel,” whispered Millie to me, “could he mean… ?”
“Let us not speculate now, love,” I admonished. “We have no interest in Caviezel’s boasting. We are only here to defeat the demon.”
“You cannot defeat me, you big-nosed Algolite meddler,” sneered Jim Caviezel, “and you cannot defeat -- the power of Choronzon!!”
With this pronouncement, the darkling demonic power suddenly shot out from the stage area to-wards us!
“You will now die, Doctor Daniel Rumanos and Miss Millie Drake!” continued Caviezel. “By the power of Choronzon, you will now die!!!”
Do you see the ungodly horror in this situation, my dear friends and readers? There we were, the wonderful Miss Millie Drake and me -- Doctor Daniel Rumanos. There we were -- facing the obscene Hollywood actor known as Jim Caviezel (his audience having long since fled in terror). There we were -- as Caviezel sent the dark force of the demon of chaos and dispersion directly to-wards us! It was a power he was using in a desperate attempt to save his failing acting career -- a power he had gained (unknown to us at the time) by an horrid act of ungodly sexuality with my oldest and most bitter enemy; the master criminal and intergalactic villain known to eternal damnation as Don Wingus!
“You will die, Doctor Rumanos!” repeated Caviezel. “You will die, along with all of that woke Hollywood elite filth! Then I shall be recognised as the world’s greatest actor, and Spectral Paranormal shall reign supreme!”
The audience had by now indeed fled in terror, and we stood there alone as the darksome power of the chaos demon shot directly to-wards us!
“Millie, hold my hand,” I said.
Then, as soon as I felt my beautiful companion’s touch, I intoned:
“Ol sonuf vaoresaji gohu Iad Belata! Elanosaha caelazod! Sobrazod o noziredo noco mada! Hoathe Iaida Saitan!”
Then, a most remarkable thing occurred. The dark force of Choronzon suddenly reversed and -- in stead of touching Millie and me -- shot directly back upon Jim Caviezel!
“What!” he cried in horror as the demonic power began to touch him. “Rumanos, what have you done? What have you done?!!”
“By the supreme power of the forty-eight Keys of Enoch,” I said, “I do take command over the powers of Choronzon -- and by it I do bring your end!”
The dark force had by now completely surrounded Jim Caviezel, and he was screaming in total abject terror.
“No!” he cried. "No! No! Noooooooo!!”
With this, the power suddenly dispersed, and all was quiet there in the Atlantic City Convention Center. I beheld the stage area carefully, and assured that there was no further sign of either the demon or the execrable actor Jim Caviezel.
“Daniel,” said Millie Drake, “what happened? That was Enochian you spoke, but what did it do to Choronzon and Jim Caviezel?”
“Mills, my dear,” I replied, “that was not only Enochian, but it was -- when empowered by the supreme force of Love -- the proper conjuration to banish Choronzon and to suitably punish his adherents. It was, as I told you before, ‘lost’ upon this planet. Nevertheless, it was secretly retained by the Kosmikos of Algol and communicated to all senior agents. Its result is to condemn those who would call forth the demon of dispersion to the only penalty proper to such an offence -- total scattering of their very life-force to the furthest reaches of Time and Space. In short, the being once known as Jim Caviezel, failing actor and active anti-Semite, is no more!”
“So what next, Daniel?” enquired Millie Drake as we exited the convention centre into that Atlantic City evening. “We still need to find out who empowered Caviezel, don’t we?”
“Quite so, love,” I affirmed. “That is a dark mystery we shall definitely soon endeavour to unravel. But first, there is certainly time to stop by Tony’s Baltimore Grill for some pizza, hmmm?”
***** DANIEL RUMANOS AND MILLIE DRAKE SHALL RETURN
