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| "YOU DON'T BELONG HERE! SO BUGGER OFF!" |
"Tom has taken on his first assignment for MR. Death and attempts to
smuggle a Nun called Sister Mercy into Hell!
Yes, she’s paid for a one way trip to Hell and Tom wants to make
sure she gets there – but he’s side tracked by the ‘Pit Of Lost Souls’, a
wannabe superhero who was an idiot and a Pharaoh who can’t find his testicles –
after being dead for 4,500 years, who could?"
The Ghost Writer.
Well readers, it had gone tit’s up from the start!
My first assignment from MR. Death was apparently a simple one, smuggle a Nun called Sister Mercy into Hell! She had managed to escape Heaven and take refuge in Hull, which may seem to the good Sister, that's she's in Hell already! – I understood she was hiding in the Hull Museum of Egyptian Antiquities, waiting for her one way ticket to Hell!
After receiving my task from Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy, who passed me the details whilst giving Napoleon another good kicking – will that ego inflated French twat ever learn? - I gathered the gang together to form our plans in the rear of the cemetery, but Maude was quite reluctant about the mission: “The whole thing stinks like Larde, Tom!”
Considering Larde smelt like a box of decomposing skunks – they were strong words! Big Boy Frank still had Lukas following him like a shadow and again, he would provide a diversion by visiting the ‘Drink, Drugs, Sex and Rock ‘n’ Roll Domain’ – apparently on the pretence of seeing his mother!
I had to tie Larde up to stop him accompanying Big Boy Frank, and Lukas wandered about with a huge grin and an Alice Cooper tee shirt on.
As we watched the big ape Lukas follow Frank through the cemetery gates, I opened my secret instructions from MR. Death, they were pretty simple, travel to Hull, find the Sister and drop her off at the Gates of Hell – the rest was covered by several members of the ‘Naughty Boy’s Biker Gang’ – But the envelope contained one strange item: a Victorian penny, dated 1880 with Queen Victoria’s head on – Maude openly shivered, “That’s the year I died.” She said quietly and turned away.
“According to the note, we use this coin to travel to Hull and collect the Sister.” I examined the coin closely and saw that it was green around the edges and had some damp earth clinging to the reverse side, that’s when I realised it, had come from some dead buggers eyes!
I wiped it on Larde’s hat and it came back even filthier.
With a shrug, we joined together and again Maude counted us down and in unison we shouted “Hull!” three times.
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| "NOW THAT'S A BIG HOLE!" |
“Oh bog!” said Maude, “We’re done for Tom, and no-one has ever escaped from the pit of lost souls!”
Max looked about and said: “Is this Hell?” He had a real grasp on reality – I don’t think so!
“Where’s Norman?” shouted Max, looking around nervously and Larde shrugged his shoulders – the little devil had disappeared again – where did that damn dog go all the time? Maude pointed out that pets weren't allowed in this shit-hole, but he must be around somewhere, we called his name for a couple of minutes to no avail.
We sat around in the pit for some time, clearly there was no way to climb the walls, and they seemed to stretch for miles upwards to the sky –the penny had vanished - it’s traitorous job done – That’s when Maude realised we were not alone here – we had company in the Pit Of Lost Souls!
A self styled ‘Superhero’ who had apparently upset MR. Death by his remarks about ABBA, and paid for his comments with banishment to this hell-hole: “All I said was that the songs seemed to be really gay!” He confessed to us.
He shrugged his shoulders and added: “It could be worse – we could be dead!”
He was a total moron.
He was dressed in a bright red ballet tutu, with red tights and wearing a yellow high visibility vest emblazoned with ‘WIMPY’ on the back, he finished off his costume with a pair of Dr.Sholes orphopeditic sandals – “I’m a martyr to my feet.” He explained, on his head was a old well worn, flying helmet – he wore a pair of gardening gloves – around the waist hung an ex-police utility belt which contained amongst other things, an enamel mug, a large spoon and the handset of a telephone with the cord dangling usefully down his leg – connected to nothing – “Like his brain.” Maude pointed out, giggling like a schoolgirl.
I just had to ask our ‘Superhero’: “And what do you call yourself?”
He struck a heroic pose, with one fist in the air, a determined look upon his face and announced to the world – well, us anyway – “They call me ‘MATRIX MAN!’ he pointed to letters ‘MM’ on the front of his tutu – “They took me ages to do, I’m not very good at sewing.” He whispered and then grinned.
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| MATRIX MAN!" |
Maude asked Matrix Man if his superpowers could help us out of this tricky situation, and he exclaimed with a fist in the air; “YES!” and I added, with some sarcasm and very little hope, “How?”
“I’ll call for help when we reach a telephone box.” He was serious and even showed the coin he would use to summon assistance. Larde wanted to wipe the silly grin off his face with his boot, but Maude held him back between fits of laughter.
“How long have you actually been stuck in this dump?” I asked our fellow in-mate, He stood with his hand on his chin for some time and both Maude and I would swear we could hear the little hamster running in his wheel inside his head – eventually, he looked up and smiled “Since I was put in here!”
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| "OH MY GOD! HE'S THINKING AGAIN!" |
"Matrix
Man’ or Reginald White (1967 – 1989) had passed over resplendent in his home
made costume, because he had decided to tackle single handed, one of Mexico’s
most dangerous drug cartels – ‘the sons of death’, and had stormed their
heavily defended and fortified fortress in Mexico City, which even the Mexican
Police and Army steered clear of - armed with a TV remote control and several
table tennis balls painted red.
It took the
Mexican Authorities nearly three weeks to find most of him……"
Tom.
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| "SEE, THAT'S AN EAR - I THINK!" |
“What the feck! Where’s the damn door!” I shouted with some frustration, then Maude held the tag up to her face – “Tom, there’s some small print on this.” I looked over her shoulder and managed to read the tiny lettering: ‘A Quality key manufactured and supplied by Take-Your-Chance Travel – the dead persons preferred method of movement’.
“That’s the same company that made MR. Death’s thigh bone!” She grinned at me and I knew what we had to do – So we gathered about the key, then Maude shouted “Wait! What about Norman?”
Our little hero was sitting at the edge of the pit, licking his balls, “How the fuck [unable to translate] down here?” Larde was right, we couldn’t leave Norman behind, so we devised a cunning plan in which we would catch Norman in Maude’s dress, but of course she would have to strip off first – several stone’s bounced against our heads, accompanied by “You Perverted gits!”
Reluctantly, we decided to use Matrix Man’s cape as an alternative.
How the little fella knew what we were doing amazed me, but soon as we had the cape in position, he leapt fearlessly from the edge into it – oddly enough, just before he jumped I could had sworn he crossed himself and looked to Heaven – I had no idea he was religious........
With the relieved looking Norman tucked under my arm, we gathered around the key and shouted “Home! Home! Home!”
It worked as well as that other piece of junk and we found ourselves tumbling down a small hillside into a shallow pond – we wadded from the filthy water and looked about – Max knew exactly where we had appeared – Rome! – Ancient ‘let’s feed the animals’ Rome!
“They don't look [unable to translate] friendly!” Added Larde, taking a big swig from his tin and shaking himself like a dog on a beach.
"We had appeared in one of the
strangest afterlife Domains there was – ‘The History Repeats itself Domain’
where human history constantly went round and round and round, You simply
couldn’t get tickets for this Domain and we had ended up in one of the most
popular periods – Ancient Rome, the other periods high in popularity were
Ancient Greece, Edwardian Europe and Elizabethan Times – the least popular
period tended to be the one you died in!
But ‘die’ here and you disappeared to the ‘Outer
Domain’ where the dead of the dead ended up – confusing I know! Hence the
afterlife expression “O.D’d” No, not over-dosed, but Outer Domained!
The Angel in Charge was a former Head of the
BBC, so he should be used to repeats…."
Tom.
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| "CENTURIAN TITUS GROSSGUTTS - THE FAT GIT!" |
Maude had kicked in the testicles a big Legionnaire who had taken a liberty with her ample breasts and was following Max through the doors – Larde and I put the boot into a couple more and Matrix Man was showing off his Kung Fu skills – well, he actually wasn’t fighting anyone, just showing off his moves until a soldier smacked him in the guts with his shield and we had to drag the gasping ‘superhero’ through the gates.
Funny enough the soldiers didn’t follow – they just stood outside the gates, laughing hysterically and holding their sides and pointing at us. The overweight Centurion had to sit down, he was laughing that much, and then an idea popped into my head and it wasn't a pleasant one.
I realised we had actually listened to Max – I had a very bad feeling about this.
We stopped in a little group, in the middle of the blood soaked arena, as the crowd cheered the release of their big furry hero’s – several fucking lions!
The lunch trumpets had been blown – and we were the first course on the menu! For the first time ever, I really knew how a prawn cocktail feels……..
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"OH NO! I'M NOT EATING HIM AGAIN, I HAD INDIGESTION FOR A WEEK LAST TIME!"
|
“No [unable to translate] shit Sherlock!” Larde yelled, grabbing Norman up.
Matrix Man shouted “They’re just big cats!” finally getting his breath back.
He clearly had lost the plot and didn’t have a bloody clue what was happening – but I strongly suspected that wasn’t new for him.
The lions were now circling their lunch and the crowd was cheering in anticipation of another win for their champions – I can see the headlines on the Sports page of ‘The Gladiator Gazette’ (also known as the ‘Slaughter Sunday Special’):
“The key! Use the bogging key!” Maude yelled, as we gathered into a circle, some fresh excrement landed on Max and he looked to the sky in amazement; “What sort of bird was that?”
Hadn’t death taught him anything?
Despite us telling him to join the circle around the key, he just stood there – what a complete and utter twat!
We yelled: “Hull! Hull! Hull!” As we disappeared before a disappointed crowd, Matrix Man was standing up to the lions with no fear, or any other sense apparently – they didn’t appreciate his fine act of totally useless sacrifice – they ate him.
No.13 OF A 'SKELETON'S LIFE SERIES:
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| "NOW WHO'S THE BOSS?" |
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| FORWARD TO EPISODE 14. "SISTER MERCY." |
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| RETURN TO EPISODE 12. "A BIG ISSUE." |
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| "THE GHOST WRITER." |