Thursday 29 November 2007

Sharing the love with li'l ol' Haversham

For T-Bird, Dinah & CyberPete.

And me, of course.

Oops! How did this get in here?
Back to my private collection with you!

Ooh, hello ErosWings. I see you managed to sneak in, too.

Well, for those of you that aren't aware, Eros is holding the Freakin' Green Elf Shorts Caption Competition, so get over there and leave a caption. Those parasitic polyester pleasure-bringers could be yours!

Monday 26 November 2007

Attention! Attention!

ErosWings will be posting The Freakin' Green Elf Shorts Caption Competition today.

Get over there and get those caption skills going. Only, not right now as I don't think it is today yet in Texas. It's barely even today here in the UK...

:: EDIT 19:35 :: It's on! He's posted. Go and get some!

Friday 23 November 2007

Tuesday 20 November 2007

Yay! First (time)!

Yay! Car passed its MOT today first time! Not even any warnings or recommendations - the test sheet is practically blank. All that's written on it is:

Carry out MOT Test £50.35


Now, if only Broom can do as well...

Monday 19 November 2007

Catch Up - Ketchup - Catsup

I expect you all want to know what it is that I was up to this weekend to get battered and bruised. I can tell you that it wasn't anything to do with 'Rough Trade' - thank you, MJ - or 'Happy-Slapping' - thank you, Tim. Or sticky white batter, SID!
Suffice it to say that the battering & bruising occurred due to hurtling down concrete-walled rapids in nothing but my swim-shorts, pursued by and pursuing - albeit unintentionally - Hot Dads™ *. I used my head and hips to vaguely control my descent hence the B & B. And once or twice the Hot Dad™s brought me to a halt in the staging pools, but only because I crashed into them as they were dilly-dallying around after their Precious Little Darlings. Still, it was bodily contact so I shouldn't complain...
There was also a luxurious wallow in a multi-themed spa on Sunday afternoon, to try and relax after the pushing and shoving that occurred in the subtropical pool complex earlier, and on the day before.
It helps to have (minor) celeb friends that can blag free entry in to such things. Although I'm sure a quick wave of my wand would've got the same result.

In other, more supernatural, matters, I may soon be rid of that hamadryad: I've fixed a copper conducting rod * ahem * I mean, TV ariel (if you're reading this, Marcus) on top of the cherry tree. Well, Channel Five reception was never that great so I needed to give it a boost - It's not my fault that thunderstorm season is imminent...

* Thirty-something, fit fathers of get-under-ones-feet-annoying-but-cute brats.

Friday 16 November 2007

Lopping the Cherry

"So, the next day, I found out that the wolf was grandad. I'd killed him" Marcus said quietly, as we neared my back garden.

"Oh, how awful" I replied, not knowing what else to say. "But, why did he attack your sister?"

"Grandad had turned senile years before. One full moon, he became the wolf and couldn't remember how to turn back, so grandma says. Mum told us he'd died, but that obviously wasn't true. He used to hang around in the woods, picking off the slow, fat kids, but every now and then, he'd wander into the back garden and sit by the hedge looking in the windows at her."

"Do you think he remembered your grandma?"

"I doubt it. She said she never saw recognition in his eyes. She just thought it may have been a half-remembered habit - Grandad used to sit in the garden smoking his pipe while grandma cooked or washed up or something."

"Oh" I said.

We stopped at the gate, slightly awkwardly. I opened it and went halfway through.

"But what about your sister?"

"Rebecca..." he paused. "She really loved grandad when she was little. She was heartbroken when mum told her he'd died. And then, finding out that he was a senile old werewolf, her grandma was a werefox and her brother was something in between... In fact, finding out that she herself was a werefox the very next month when puberty set in, was a bit too much for her. She moped about at home for a couple of years, then ran away just before she was sixteen. She got in contact with mum a year or so ago, but won't speak to, or even acknowledge me, hence that business on the NightShip earlier."

After another, slightly less awkward silence, I asked "Would you like to come in? You know, have a drink or something before you go home?"

"I... Yes. I'd like that" he said, with the faintest of smiles. We walked up the path beside the garage and as we reached the patio, he turned back. "The cherry tree" he exclaimed.

I turned, too. "Oh yes. I'd forgotten about that" I declared, glaring at the offending gnarled old thing. "I'm pretty sure it's dead. It's been bereft of leaves and flowers all year."

Marcus was looking up at the top of the tree. "Except on that twig, right at the very top" he said.


"There" and he pointed up to a small twig, adorned with a few small leaves, yet to turn brown and fall to the ground.

Bugger. That damn tree was still clinging to life! "Oh, yes" I said in feigned interest.

Marcus approached the tree, his outstretched hand just about brushed the rough grey-brown bark before he snatched it back, a look of surprise on his face. "Well, bugger me" he breathed.

Chance'd be a fine thing the Host's SubConscious muttered.

I ignored the SubC. "What is it?" I asked.

"Well, I can't cut it down" Marcus replied. "You see, there's a hamadryad living in it."


Thursday 15 November 2007


Rebecca squeezed her eyes tightly shut, and curled up in a ball, waiting for the attack. She winced as she heard a growl approach her position. And then carry on past. Gingerly, she opened one eye and caught sight of a fox, her grandma, leaping for the wolf, teeth bared.
The fox clamped its jaws shut on the great wolf's neck, but was unsuccessful at causing much of an injury due to the thick fur that covered it. The wolf swung its head around hard, knocking the fox off and on to the wooden bed post, where it yelped and fell to the floor, unmoving.

Hesitating, the wolf stared at the downed fox, its head cocked slightly to one side. It gave a little whine before shaking its head, as if trying to dislodge water from an ear, and turning back to Rebecca. This time, she did not shut her eyes. She was frozen with terror, transfixed by the wolf's salivating jaws and lolling tongue.

The wolf leapt just as her adrenaline kicked in. She pulled her grandma's red bath robe off the back of the bed room door as the huge beast pounced on her. She was pinned to the carpetted floor by its massive paws, but had managed to get some of the robe in front of her as the wolf lunged. She screamed as its fearsome jaws snapped shut on the faded and worn bath robe.

"Becca?!" a gutteral voice shouted through the house. "Rebecca!"

The wolf tore through the toweling robe, ripping it away from the struggling girl. She screamed again, turning her head quickly, as the huge jaws crashed shut by her ear.


The door flew open again, narrowly missing her head, and someone, something, hurtled through knocking the wolf from its position astride her. She scrabbled to a sitting position and backward-shuffled into a corner.

In the centre of the room, by the big wooden bed, the two creatures fought tooth and nail. A man - no, not a man, a man-shaped thing: all muscles and hair with ripped and tattered clothes still hanging from its powerful frame - looked like he was getting the better of the wolf. Although smaller, he was heavier and managed to beat the wolf off a couple of times.

In a brief respite from the fighting, the man turned his head to the girl cowering in the corner. "Go. Get out of here, now" he ordered.

"M... Marcus?" Rebecca breathed.

"Yes. Just go-Aaaaaaarrrrrrrrrghhhhhhh!" The wolf had taken advantage of the distraction and bitten down hard on Marcus' arm. "Gaaaaaaaaahhhhhh!" he screamed as he was shaken bodily by the massive wolf.

As Rebecca scrabbled to her feet, hurridly leaving the room, she turned slightly, in time to see Marcus change completely. Instead of a half-naked, muscular, hairy young man, was a large, powerful, reddish-brown fox-wolf crossbreed. It's front left leg hung limply, but that didn't stop it from going for the wolf's jugular. The wolf reared up, hot blood spurting everywhere, taking Marcus with it. It overbalanced with the extra weight and fell, it's head smashing into the corner of the chest at the foot of the bed with a resounding crack.
The wolf lay still. Marcus, the fox-wolf, stood over the prone grey form, prodding it with his nose, checking for any signs of life.

On the other side of the bed, the small elderly fox - Marcus and Rebecca's grandma - slowly got to its feet and tottered over to the fallen wolf. She looked at Marcus with sad amber eyes and he backed off, his head down as he limped from the room. She nuzzled the blood-matted fur on the wolf's neck, then slowly laid down next to it.

to be continued...

Wednesday 14 November 2007


Once upon a time... Well, six years ago to be precise.

"Where's your sister? Her dinner's getting cold."

"So?" Marcus impudently replied to his mum.

"So, go and get her, you cheeky sod!"

Marcus sighed and left the table, shouting to his sister as he climbed halfway up the stairs. "Hey! 'Scustabell! Dinner's ready."

There was no answer.

"Fine. I'll eat yours" and he returned to the kitchen table.

"Didn't I just say go and get her?" his mum asked through pursed lips as she stirred the gravy.

"Oh, OK" he sighed, and this time went all the way upstairs and barged in his little sister's room. A quick glance about was all he needed. "She's not here, mum" he yelled.

His mum's voice floated up from downstairs, "Go and find her, will you. What if she changes without us? You know what a shock it'll be. Remember the 'Cousin Nathanial Debacle'?"

Marcus growled quietly at the back of his throat before bounding downstairs and out the front door, following his nose. "Won't be long" he shouted. "I think she's gone to grandma's."

View Larger Map

'Scustabell, a.k.a. Rebecca exited the woods, wriggled through the flimsy fence and made her way up the back garden to her grandma's house. The rear security light came on as she neared the patio, the dark, cloudy autumn evening lit only by its yellow glow. She found the back door key under its stone and unlocked the door just as the moon came out from behind a looming cummulo nimbus cloud.

"Hello, grandma! It's only me" she called out.

A rustling of fabric and the sound of a twanging bed spring preceded her grandma's reply. "Oh. Hello, dear. Just a minute..." More rustling and shuffling occurred before grandma spoke again. "Does your mum know you're here?"

Rebecca poked her head around the bed room door. "Dunno" she answered, before taking in the darkened room. "Why are you in bed?"

"I'm not feeling very well, dear. You'd better not come in. You don't want to catch your granny's nasty old cold."

Rebecca hesitated only for a moment before pushing into the room. "I drink orange juice every day. I won't get a cold" she declared with the fearless knowledge of youth.

"Even so, better not come any closer. Besides, I'm feeling a bit tired. It's probably best that you pop off home. Come and see your old granny tomorrow, eh?"

"But I want to see you now" she practically whined. "Mum's making horrid ol' lamb chops and cauliflower cheese for dinner so the house smells of farts."

"I do wish you wouldn't use that word" her grandma sighed. "It's not very becoming for a young lady of your age."

"I'm nearly a grown up!" Rebecca announced. "I'll be thirteen next year. Anyway, everyone says fart" she added. "Can I have a chocolate?"

Her grandma kept a box of Black Magic in a drawer in the living room, for those occasions when unnexpected guests dropped by. They were also handy for keeping certain granddaughters quiet. "I suppose so" she said. "Just one, mind. You don't want to spoil your dinner."

Rebecca trotted out of her grandma's bedroom and into the living room, where she homed in on the chocolates with unnerring accuracy. She stuffed one in her mouth immediately, hastily chewing it up and swallowing before returning to her grandma's room, closing the lid on the way.
Re-entering the bedroom, she made an obvious point of opening the box and choosing a chocolate as if for the first time. "Do you want one first, grandma?" she asked, leaning in suddenly, proffering the open box. About a foot from the bed she froze, holding the box of Black Magic under her grandma's nose. " - " she said.

Grandma shrunk back, pulling the covers up around her face, but she knew she was too late by the look of curious horror plastered over her granddaughter's face. "Oh, dear..." she muttered to herself.

"What's wrong with your nose?" Rebecca breathed with shameless curiousity.

"Well, dear, your poor old grandma fell over an-" She didn't get to finish her desperate explanation as Rebecca had stepped back towards the light switch and turned it on.

"There" she said as the room was bathed in light. "Now I can see you bettaaaaaaeeeeiiiiiiiii!" The box of chocolates hit the floor, scattering Amaretto Crunches and Mocha Truffles over the carpet and under the bed. Rebecca stood motionless near the door, barely breathing as she stared at her 'grandma'. The old woman's face was more pointy than it had any right to be and appeared to be covered in fine red hair. Except for her nose, which was slowly turning black and shiny.

Grandma gave a nervous smile but couldn't really carry it off due to her lengthening jaw and blackening gums. Not to mention her sharpening teeth, which she gritted as she attempted to, unsuccessfully, halt the transformation. She reached out to Rebecca with a paw-like hand, caught sight of it, and hastily brought it back under the quilt. Instead, she looked beseechingly at her granddaughter with amber, whiteless eyes. She knew it was pointless trying to say anything as her vocal chords, mouth and tongue were no longer set up for the intricacies of human speech.

"Grandma?" Rebecca whispered and made as if to approach the bed.

Before she could, though, the bedroom door burst open, slamming her into the wall with such force as to almost knock her out. She slowly raised her head, tasting blood from her split lip. She wished she hadn't.

There, growling and snarling in the doorway, was a huge, rangy, almost emaciated looking, grey wolf. It faced her grandma, until it's nose twitched and it turned it's massive head towards Rebecca, drooling at the smell of her blood.

to be continued...

Monday 12 November 2007


Even after swearing that I'd never use the vile method of public transport again, I found myself aboard the NightShip. Thankfully, it wasn't a long journey from Londinium, relatively speaking, to Norwich.

On the way back, I'd got talking to a very nice young man called Marcus. Rawr! He's a total fox.

Well, not a total fox, a werefox, in fact.

He accidently stepped on the hem of my cloak almost garotting me. I turned to give him the Evil Eye (it was oozing in my pocket and I just wanted rid of it) and became rooted to the spot. Not only because he was still standing on my cloak, but because of his beauty. I'm surprised I didn't dribble.

Anyway, we got talking and it turned out he's a tree surgeon. I just happened to mention my cherry* and he, very obligingly, said he'd come over and see to it.

The NightShip stopped at Mousehold and we made to disembark. I glared at the red rubber clad ticket inspecting harlot and she gave me evils back. Marcus made as if to talk to her, but she spun on her heel, totally blanking him in favour of pushing an elderly demon down the gangplank.

On the dock, as the Nightship faded into the distance a bit sooner than normal physics allowed, I asked Marcus about the blanking. He replied:

to be continued...

* Tree. Cherry tree.

Thursday 8 November 2007

Black Bogeys

I shall be paying a visit Londinium, amongst other places.

Whilst there, I may partake of some light stalking, so keep your curtains open and your windowsill clear...

Monday 5 November 2007

Hallowe'en V: Midnight

CyberPete and I joined the others on the veranda. It was cool out in the night air. There were no clouds in the sky, so the stars were clearly visible, harshly glittering like broken glass. Their constellations were unfamiliar to us. Not that we were taking much notice as Piggy had our full attention. Again.
He was still whining about wanting to leave and was stamping his trotters in petulance. Tazzy had just opened his mouth, in what we hoped was going to be a telling off, but was interrupted by-


We spun around in time to see two figures fall through one of the large floor-to-ceiling windows that encircled the grand ballroom. They collapsed into the rose beds, showered with shards of glass. A few moments later, the rose bushes shook and expletives could be heard.


"May you be struck - hic - down, you vile sinner, eh?"

Oh. It was only SID and MJ, pissed as farts. As usual. They rose, covered in greenery and compost, laced with small cuts and scratches - Though whether the injuries were from the fall, or from their bitch fighting, we didn't know. Or particularly care.
They teetered over to us, holding on to each other for what looked like dear life. MJ's bouffant had half collapsed with a rose bush poking out of it. SID was clutching an almost empty Jameson's bottle, swinging it around wildly.
As they were almost upon us, MJ faltered slightly, a confused half smile on her face. There was a squeaking noise, not unlike Nanette Newman checking the cleanliness of washing up by running her finger across a wet plate. She frowned slightly, cocked her head then looked relieved as a muffled crash emanated from under her skirts. As SID helped her forward, the remains of another Jameson's bottle could be seen coming into view as her hemline cleared it. Eww.
Before anyone could react with anymore than the horrified looks we had already slapped on, a dozen burly guards appeared from behind us. The captain cleared his throat, as the others surrounded us.

"You are all under arrest" he intoned.

"What?! What the fook for?" Tazzy demanded, somewhat threateningly.

"The charges are, amongst other things, for: Breaking and entering, failing to stop after squashing a minor deity, three counts of murder, impersonating VIPs, theft, witchcraft, driving a horseless carriage without due care and attention" The captain of the guard paused as he surveyed the broken window, "and willful destruction of private property" he added.
We all looked at each other, not knowing what to say or do until someone shouted:


I waved the wand at the guards in a panic. One of them exploded, showering the others with, strangely, cotton wool. Rather ominously, the palace clock started to chime midnight.


"Quick! On the coach!" Frobi yelled, pointing to a nearby ornate coach.


We dashed for the coach, leaving the stunned guards picking bits of cotton wool out of their helmets. The driver, who'd been watching, stood up muttering "Oh no you don't" as he picked up the reins. Rather thoughtlessly, I threw the only thing I had to hand at him: The wand. Not being an amazingly good shot, especially while running, the wand hit the guard rail instead of the driver. Luckily, it ricocheted off and clonked him in the forehead where it discharged on impact.


"Ow, my head" moaned Convict.




We all piled onto the coach as Convict rubbed his forehead, looking dazed and confused. MJ, having sobered up slightly - must've been the fresh air and running - scrambled into the front with him.


"Hi Connie. Gimme those" and she snatched the reins from him, her eyes lingering a little too long on his nadular region from where she'd grabbed them. The reins, not his 'nads. "Shit. Tatas was right" she gasped. Convict just smiled enigmatically. "Everyone on board?" she called out, just as CyberPete was being manhandled into the coach by Tazzy and Piggy.


"My shoe!" he moaned as he caught sight of the bloodied glass stiletto laying in the gravel, halfway between the coach and the rapidly approaching guards.


"Never mind your shoe" I said. "It's how the story is supposed to go." Tazzy gave me a funny look. "OK" I relented, rolling my eyes. "Maybe not with us in it."


"Oh, I dunno" Tazzy said, nudging me and indicating to where CyberPete had been dumped. He was slumped over SID's semi-conscious form in the corner. "Cinderella sleeping with the Prince?" Tazzy winked mischieviously and moved CyberCinder's unresisting hand so it slid down SID's arse crack. "All aboard!" He shouted, banging on the ceiling.


"Yah!" MJ yelled at the horses as she expertly cracked the reins. They took off instantly, gravel scattered under their hooves and flew up from beneath the wheels, pebbledashing the guards.


We galloped into the night to the sound of bells chiming midnight, probably pursued by all the King's horses and all the King's men.



glingle glingle Poof!

The end.

Sunday 4 November 2007

Hallowe'en IV: The Crystal Ball

I caught up with the others on the edge of the grand ballroom, which had very tastefully been decorated with glass, crystal and silver. Massive, intricate chandeliers hung from the far off ceiling, throwing light around like glitterballs.

At the far side of the 'room were three ornate thrones, only one of which was occupied. In it lounged a very attractive looking athletic young man, dressed in dashing finery.
CyberPete had seen him too and was already pushing his way across the dance floor. Feeling evil, I surrepticiously got my wand out and pointed it over the sozzled 'Cinders head at the prince. The Ka-Zam was muffled amidst the noise of the party, thankfully. CyberPete hadn't noticed that the prince was no longer so young, or handsome, or slender, and kept on through the throng.
Suddenly he stopped dead at the far side, just before the steps leading up to the bethroned staging area. His body seemed to sag then he lifted his glass and drained it. A disappointed 'Oh' sailed across the 'room. I smiled. And not in a particularly nice way.

MJ looked up as she too heard the 'Oh'. Her gaze found CyberPete, then carried on until it met the transmogrified prince.

"Ah ha!" she exclaimed. "My bitch has arrived." And with that, she ploughed through the dancers, shoved CyberPete aside once she reached the steps and ascended them up to the throne level. The prince stopped his lounging and sat up straight.

"MJ?" he uttered in an out-of-place Irish accent.

Oh no! Not another one - What was wrong with this bloody wand?! The prince had been turned into S.I.D.

MJ stood before him, her hands on her hips. "Right, bitch. On your hands and knees or you're not having any of this" and she reached underneath her skirts to produce a bottle of Jameson's. I was just glad that I wasn't close enough to hear the squelch from whichever orifice she'd pulled it out of.

Turning in disgust, I headed towards the bar where Tazzy, Piggy and Frobi were propping it up. I joined them halfway through a conversation...

"Well, it looks like him" Piggy was saying. "He's always at these type of things."

"It's not him" Tazzy countered. "What in fook would he be doing here? This isn't exactly Panto."

"I think Piggy might be right" said Frobi. "After all, he'd go to the opening of an envelope!"

"It's not him! For a start, he looks more like William Shatner."

"Ah, there's another one who'd be at that envelope."

"I'm telling you, it is!" Piggy oinked impetuously.

"Who is it?" I asked, dodging the smoke from whatever it was that Frobi was puffing on.

"Christopher Biggins!" Piggy practically shouted, jumping up and down a bit.

I peered through the smoke to where Frobi was pointing. After squinting, I had to admit that the fat, bespectacled man in the flamboyant waistcoat, did look somewhat like Christopher Biggins, Panto Dame Extraordinaire!

"Uh oh" Frobi muttered. "He's looking at you again, Piggy."

"What? Who is?" I asked. "Biggins?"

"No. There's a... rather elderly gentleman who's had his eye on Piggy since we got here" Frobi replied, smirking at Piggy.

"Come on, Tazzy. Let's go" Piggy whined.

"No. I've only just started my drink."

"Oh, please? The music's shit, there's no proper beer and this dress is really itchy."

At this point, the elderly gentleman, with glasses like Mr Magoo's, hobbled up and tapped Piggy on his shoulder as he'd turned to escape. Tazzy, Frobi and I just sniggered at each other over their heads, as Piggy was asked if he'd like to be shown 'a good time'.
Piggy turned, sighed and lifted his dress up in front of the old git.

"G... Gin... Ginger!" the blind old fool stuttered before keeling over, clutching his heart.

"I'm not fuckin' ginger!" Piggy screamed, then stormed off towards the exit.

Tazzy downed his sherry, Frobi took a final drag before flicking the butt into the crowd, and we followed the flouncing Piggy.

"Come on, 'Cinders" I shouted to CyberPete over my shoulder, who staggered to his feet, one shoe on, the other clutched in his left hand. He hoiked up his frills and limped across the ballroom towards us, swaying a little as he did so.

To be continued...

Saturday 3 November 2007

Hallowe'en III: The carriage of No Horse Drawn

"Right. Well, now we've got to get to this Crystal Ball."

"And don't even mention walking, because there's no way I'm walking anywhere in these!" CyberPete moaned.

All eyes fixed firmly on me.

"I believe this is your department, IVF" said Piggy.

"I guess we'd better start looking for a pumpkin, then" I replied.

After a few minutes of searching, all we'd come up with was a couple of sprouting potatoes, a bunch of grapes and a lemon.

"No pumpkin?" I was aghast. "Did someone check the yard?"

"Yep. No sign of any pumpkins. However," and Tazzy held up a squirming rodent by its tail, "I did find this. We're gonna need a driver for when you do turn something into a coach, aren't we?"

Oh gods! "OK. Bring that" and I pointed at the dangling rat "and the lemon to the courtyard out front."

The lemon was placed in the centre of the courtyard. Tazzy stood next to it holding the rat.

"Right. When I say so, drop the rat and run for cover, Tazzy" I instructed. "Everyone else stand back!" Taking a couple of deep breaths, I felt the wand charging through my fingertips. I swung my arm back then threw it forward, pointing the wand at the lemon. "Run!" I yelled.

Tazzy dropped the rat and scarpered across the paving as quickly as he could in a full length frock, and dived behind a rose bush.

Glingle glingle Poof!

When the pink smoke had cleared sufficiently, we all gasped. It had worked! Perhaps not in the way we were expecting, after all, there wasn't a beautiful gilded coach complete with driver. Instead, a stretched Citroen C6, still wreathed in tendrils of smoke and-

"Frobi!" Piggy exclaimed.

Uh oh.

"What the...?" the confused Frobisher stuttered. "What happened?"

"I... Uh... I'm not quite sure" I admitted.

"Oh, who cares" CyberPete said. "At least we've got transport and a driver. C'mon everyone, into the car. We're off!"

After much pushing and shoving, we were all inside. I was up front with Frobi. CyberPete and MJ had very quickly found the mini-bar and Tazzy and Piggy were arguing over who had the worst dress on.

"Where are we going?" Frobi asked.

"The palace. To the Crystal Ball."

"Where's that then?"

"Umm... Surely this thing must have sat nav?" I muttered, flailing at buttons on the dashboard. A compartment flipped open to reveal a starling.

"Where to, Guv?" it said, in a surprisingly baritone voice.

"Um. Er. The Palace?"

"Righto. Follow me, then." The starling looked up. "You'll have to open the sunroof first, Guv."

Frobi thumbed the switch and the sunroof slid back exposing the evening sky. The starling took off through it and started flying low in front of the car.

"Follow that bird!" someone yelled.

Frobi gave a shrug and gunned the accelerator. The car leapt forward pinning everyone in their seats. In the back, champagne sloshed out of glasses. Luckily, MJ's long flexible neck had snapped back with the g-force and the flying champers went straight into her open mouth. CyberPete looked on in envy as most of it had sloshed out of his glass. Piggy and Tazzy just whispered to each other before bursting out laughing. MJ crossed her arms and frowned at them as she swallowed.

We were soon at the palace. Frobi sped through the gates, narrowly missing a couple of guards. I waved our tickets at them out of the window as we roared up the drive. As we came to a skidding halt, someone opened one of the back doors and CyberPete fell out onto the gravel, still clutching a glass of champagne, expertly held so not a drop was spilt.

"Ouch" he mumbled.

MJ got out, surprisingly ladylike without showing any snatch, and stepped over his prone form. "Get up, you silly little poof" she sneered. CyberPete just burped and giggled.

Tazzy and Piggy, now also out of the car, grabbed an arm each and hoisted him to his feet. "C'mon 'Cinders" Tazzy said. "Let's go." Piggy oinked in agreement.

We all followed MJ as she stalked up the steps to the grand entrance of the palace. The sound of gossip, laughter and music rolled out - It sounded like the ball was well under way.

A tap on my shoulder made me turn. "'Ere. You can't leave that there" a vertically challenged guard said.

"Oh, for gods sakes" I sighed, pointing the wand at the Citroen.


It reverted to its previous form and I carried on up the steps leaving the guard with a stunned look on his face.

to be continued...

Friday 2 November 2007

Hallowe'en II: The gilded invitation

MJ descended the curving staircase to find not only Piggy, but Tazzy, CyberPete and IVD squabbling in the hall.

"There's enough for all of us-"

"But I don't know if it's such a good ide-"

"What shall I wear-"

"You can't wear that tank top, it's-"

"We'll have to-"

"Look, it's two against two. We'll hav-"

"Can we decide quickly, my feet hur-"

None of them had noticed her. Good. As she quietly crept down the remaining stairs, MJ's nostrils were assailed by the lingering vestiges of Piggy's fart. She silently gagged, swallowed and then shouted "What are you poofs arguing about?!"

Four heads suddenly snapped around, jaws dropped in surprise. Piggy was first to break the silence.

"Oh, it's only that Canuck Cunt, MJ" he stated, but with a smile. Tazzy grinned and I managed A Gay Wave™.

"Ooh, MJ! MJ!" CyberPete waved a handful of tickets in the air. "We're going to a ball and I'm going to shag the handsome prince and we'll live happily ever after but I'll need him to do something about the lack of electricity and these stone floors are too cold but-"

"Shut it, CyberCinders" I hissed, elbowing him in the ribs. CyberPete scowled and wrapped his curtain-cloak more tightly around himself.

"CyberCinders?" MJ asked with a puzzled look. Then realisation dawned. "Ah, so that must have been the wicked stepmother who I pushed down the lav, eh?" She looked around the hall. "So, where're the ugly sisters, then?"

"Piggy asphyxiated them with one of 'is killer farts" Tazzy answered glancing down at his Cute Wee Piggy who was looking very pleased with himself.

"I see" said MJ. "So we've taken the places of the characters from Cinderella?" Then she fixed her gaze on me. "And how did this happen?"

"How the Hell should I know?!"

"Well, you're our resident witch." Then she clocked the wand I'd retrieved from the crash site, "Or should I say Fairy Godmother?"

"Fairy's about right" Piggy whispered in Tazzy's ear, and they both sniggered to themselves.

"Quiet, you two!" I snapped, before turning back to MJ. "Look, I'm as much in the dark as everyone else. I was flying back from Indescribable's when I collided with a swan in some clouds. Broom lost power after some of it's bristles were knocked out, and I crash landed here, accidently squashing the real fairy godmother." MJ didn't look convinced, but she didn't say anything else about it.

Turning to CyberPete, she snatched the tickets from his grasp, and declared "Right. Let's go to this ball, then. But we can't go dressed in our own clothes as we'd stick out a mile, as I've already discovered. We'll have to wear whatever's a la mode here. Everyone get rifling through wardrobes!"

A little while later...

"Bwah hah hah ha! Look at the ugly sisters!"

"What do you look like?"

"They look like Brenda and Audrey from the Bounty adverts!"
Tazzy and Piggy, resplendant in bile and puce coloured frocks, stood sulking before us.
"These were the only things that fit!" Piggy whined.

"Bwah hah hah hah ha ha!"
"Well, you lot don't look that much better" Tazzy pointed out. He was right. MJ's halter-necked dress looked a bit school ma'am-ish, I was wearing the butler's clothes and CyberPete looked like he'd ransacked every room of its net curtains. "Can't you do something with that wand?" he asked.
"Urrgh! Don't get that warty thing out!" MJ squealed.
"Ha. Ha" I acknowledged. "Let's see what this wand can do, then." I gave the pink, sparkly thing a shake then directed it at our little group.


We all looked at each other. Not much had changed. Tazzy and Piggy were now wearing wigs. MJ's dress wasn't quite so staid and her fringe had disappeared to be replaced with a giant bouffant. The black bowtie I had hanging around my neck had been replaced with an orange tie, so now I looked like a giant penguin. And CyberPete looked like a fourth drag queen cast member of Priscilla: Queen of the Desert!

"I think this is as good as it's going to get" I sighed in defeat.

To be continued...

Thursday 1 November 2007

Hallowe'en: The glass stilettos

I knew something was amiss the moment I burst through the bottom of the cloud layer last night...

The girl sighed in relief and wiped her soot-covered sleeve across her moist brow. There, she thought, the cellar was full of coal again. That lot should last into the middle of next month. She leaned the shovel against the wall next to the scullery door before turning back slightly to close the coal chute hatch. As she reached out to the hatch a faint glingling noise behind her made her turn.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, her hand to her mouth in surprise. There before her, dressed head to toe in pink taffeta, encrusted with enough sequins to sink a battleship, was an elderly lady beaming gummily and clutching a twinkling wand.

"Don't just stand their gawping girl" the pink apparition scolded. "Do you want to go to The Ball or not?"

"Oh!" she exclaimed again. The old woman rolled her eyes. "Oh, of course I do! But they won't let me go, even though I've finished the chores. Besides" she added, "I've got nothing to wear."

"We'll see about that" and the OAPP* pointed her wand at the girl's potato peel 'shoes'. Ka-Zam went the wand. However, neither of them noticed the rather generic sound because another noise had caught their attention.


"What's that noise?" the girl asked with a quizzical look on her face.

"Beats me" said the old woman looking around the yard. "Where's it coming from?"


"I don't know." Both women looked at each other for a moment before the penny dropped. They looked up.

"Look out below!"

"Oh, shi-"

wwwwwm CRUNCH!

The girl brought her arms down from in front of her face where they had shielded her from the blood splatters. She opened her mouth in shock, but before any sound left her lips, the scullery door flew open, crashing into her with such force as to knock her clean out of her shoes and into the coal chute. A figure burst out of the scullery and surveyed the scene.

"Oof! I think I just landed on someone" I said as I extricated myself from folds of pink taffeta.

"Not just someone" the figure said. "You've clobbered a fairy godmother! Either that or Barbara Cartland."

"Well, at least I didn't knock some grubby girl down the coal chute!" I looked up at the fey figure. It was, rather shockingly, CyberPete. "What are you doing here?" I demanded.

"I'm not sure. I was reading when I heard a loud crunching sound. I got up a bit too quickly I think because everything went black and then, when it had cleared, I was here. I... OH!" CyberPete had looked down and seen the girl's transmogrified shoes. He fell to his knees before the glittering crystal heels. "Ohhhhhhhhhh..." he drooled. It was very unbecoming.

"You might as well have them" I said. "After all, their intended owner won't be needing them anymore."

I narrowed my eyes as I realised what we'd stumbled into. Before I could explain, strident shouting emanated from within the house.

"Haven't you finished shovelling that coal yet?" one nasal voice yelled.

"You've got to cook our dinner before we go, you know" a second voice added.

I glanced at CyberPete as he carefully picked up the heels, a look of realisation on his face. "Just coming" he trilled in a rather grating falsetto, a grin starting to play across his face.

"C'mon CyberCinders. Let's go and sort out those harpies."

We made our way through the scullery and into the hall, all the while listening to the orders of the two sisters.
Suddenly, there was silence. A second or two later, a different, deeper, northern voice came through.

"Eh oop? Where the fook are we?"



"Bloody 'eck, Piggy, I can fookin' see that one!"

To our surprise - and horror - Tazzy burst through the parlour door, gagging. Piggy, trotting after him, smiled proudly, trailing thick green smog.

"Who were those two mongs?" he oinked.

"What do you mean 'were'?" I ask, eyes narrowed again. "Oh, and hello."

"Al'right, IVF! They keeled over after Piggy dropped his guts. They might still be alive - One of 'em were twitchin' a bit."

"Don't count on it" Piggy added, proudly. "'Ere, who's that poofy cunt?" and, thankfully, he pointed past me.

I turned to see CyberPete, having crammed his feet into the crystal heels and wrapped himself in a velvet curtain, sashaying elegantly up and down the hall. The image was spoiled somewhat by the trickles of blood running down the sides of the shoes from where he'd obviously crammed a bit too much. I slapped my hand to my forehead. "That's CyberCinders."
The Yorkshire poofs looked on knowingly.

Meanwhile, upstairs...

Hearing a loud crunch from outside, the haughty middle-aged woman pulled up her drawers and smoothed down her long skirt. What's that dratted girl done now, she thought. She emerged from the garderobe only to be confronted by a brazen hussy exposing her cleavage in a very low cut, tight fitting top.

"Who the devil are you? And what are you doing in my chambers, you harlot?!" She screeched.

"Harlot?!" MJ's eyed widened in shock before she punched the rude bitch in the face. "You stuck-up cow" she retaliated, as the woman staggered backwards into the garderobe. Following her, MJ shoved the flailing woman into the hole. "Eat shit" she said smugly before turning on her heel and leaving the stinking closet. "Now. Where the Hell am I?"
A thunderous fart from somewhere below answered her.
Ah, that sounds like Piggy, she thought, and left the room to go and find him.

To be continued...

* Old Age Pink Pensioner