"THE GRAVEYARD CHRONICLES!": EPISODE 14: "Sister Mercy."

"ANYONE SEEN MY TESTICLES?"

14: ”SISTER MERCY.”

We landed with a crash exactly where we should have gone in the first place - the Hull Museum of Egyptian Antiquities.

The place was swarming with ‘Lifer’s’ viewing the exhibits and staring at old bits of wood, furniture and statues, they couldn’t see us obviously, so they had the enormously irritating habit of simply walking through you – which pissed Larde off, and he would lash out, to no avail, at any offending ‘Lifer’ guilty of this practise – It did no good, but apparently made him feel better!

Maude wiped tears from her face and whispered “Poor bloody idiot, what the hell did he do that for?” I patted Maude's shoulders: “I suppose he was a real super-hero in the end, despite being an idiot.” I said quietly.

Max was quite upset that his new ‘friend’ had finished his afterlife as a ‘starter’ and was saying over and over again “I know EXACTLY how he feels! I was eaten by lions you know”

“We know!” we shouted in unison and then a little voice from the dark corner of the big room said: “I say, you people, have any of you seen my testicles, some rotter has stolen them I think!”

It came from a large glass display case, which appeared to contain the bottom of a sarcophagus and the occupant was pressed up against the glass – it was a talking, walking mummy! He gave us a little wave, loose bandages flapping about his arms and feet – he clearly wasn’t too happy about having his testicles stolen – but who would be?

Larde walked over to the case and looked the mummy up and down and said; “What the crack [unable to translate] happened to this poor [unable to translate] bugger!” Whilst Norman urinated against the case bottom, then wandered off.

A little amazed, we approached the strange creature and Maude clutched my hand tightly, “It’s a bloody mummy and it talks!” She was stunned, as was Max who said “Whose mummy is he? He’s not my mum, that’s for sure!”

There’s no answer to Max – except maybe we should have left him with his new ‘friend’ so they could talk about their shared stupidity and what fine cuisine they made together, whilst sitting around in the ‘Outer Domain’, where I have no doubt that Matrix Man was actually enjoying constant day time T.V……….

"OH GOD! BLOODY JERRY SPRINGER AGAIN!"

“Who are you mate?” I said to our host, somewhat stunned to be talking to a mummy, Thus we came to know ‘The Tale of the Emasculated Mummy’ or as Larde suggested: “Pharaoh [unable to translate] drops a bollock!”

Apparently our new friend used to be Pharaoh Seti III, God-King of Upper and Lower Egypt, an absolute ruler of his country, beloved by his adoring people and the choice of the ancient Gods to rule the mighty civilisation of Egypt - well, until his cousin Thutmosis, (a sneaky little fucker, by all accounts) murdered him one humid night, by creeping into old Seti’s bedroom and sticking a large knife in his back. He was rewarded for his evil betrayal by being made Pharaoh and taking over, not just the throne, but Seti’s harem of 700 wives – A perk of the job, I suppose.

“700 wives! [Unable to translate] who the hell would [unable to translate] steal a dick with that much mileage on? Larde exclaimed, checking his own tackle – just in case the thieves were still about.

It turns out that Pharaoh’s important bits disappeared when he was put on display in the museum; he believes the Curator took it for use as a paperweight in his office. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t the first pile of ‘old bollocks’ that appeared on the Curator’s desk in his tenure at the Museum.

We reassured poor Seti that if we came across the Curator’s office, we would return his old ‘pride and joy’ to him – Larde smiled and remarked “We could just give him Max [unable to translate] he’s a big prick [unable to translate] first time he would be useful for anything [unable to translate] except lions lunch!”

Maude was quite moved by Seti’s dilemma and promised him we would try our best to find his missing bits and return them. She whispered to me and Larde that we could actually do the returning, she wasn’t about to handle 4,500 year old ‘meat and two veg’ for anyone – not even for a bloody God-King, no matter how sorry she felt for him……..

We were interrupted by Norman returning, and he had brought a ‘friend’ with him – a whisky drinking, cigar smoking, profane, obnoxious Nun!

"SISTER MERCY!!!"

And they were her good points!....

She was called Sister Mercy (what a misnomer! she should have been called ‘Sister Gobshite!’) formally Norma-Jean Boggis (1904 – 1981) and she opened up the conversation with; “Jesus H Christ! What a bunch of twats, you look like you couldn’t smuggle ash into an ashtray!” She took a big swig at a silver hip-flask, which was decorated with an engraving of the devil shagging a surprised looking goat – interesting trinket for a bride of Christ!

She tapped out her cigar ash on Larde’s hat and looked Max up and down with contempt; “Who’s this prick that thinks he’s f******g Ben-Hur?”

“That’s Max, I’m Tom, we here to take you to Hell.” I said, and never thought I would actually say that to anyone, never mind a bloody Nun!

Sister Mercy grunted and stared at Maude; “Who’s the broad with the big tits?”

"IF LOOKS COULD KILL. SISTER MERCY WOULD BE DEAD AGAIN!"

“Maude.” Maude said, with clenched teeth and fists. I stepped between the two, just in case, But Sister Mercy was now examining Larde, she nodded approvingly, “He looks o.k.- dumb as shit obviously, and twice as smelly, you should hang a toilet block around his neck when in polite company.”

Well, that wouldn’t include her – would it?

She took another swig at her hip-flask and blew smoke into my face; “Well, let’s get going Tom and you’d better bring those plonkers along, they look like they would get lost in their own f*****g bedrooms.”

Sister Mercy laughed out loud, letting a wet sounding fart escape, then grinning; “Christ Tom, I hope farts can be lumpy or I’ve just crapped myself!” She convulsed with laughter, stopping only to slap me on the back and offer me a swig from her flask. I politely declined and wondered how the hell she ever got into Heaven! How the hell she was ever a Nun! What the hell was I going to do with her!

She was eyeing me closely and a small smile crept across her interested face, she bend forward and whispered in my ear; “Tom, you’re not bad looking considering your dead, you and I may get together and exchange some body fluids, if you’re not tied up with that dumb broad with the nipples you can hang coats on – what you say mate?” She winked at me and walked over to the Pharaoh, tapping on the glass of his prison and saying “F**k me! What the f******g hell happened to you mate?”

Before Seti III could reply, she banged on the glass and laughed out loud; “The last time I saw that many bandages, a f******g first aid shop had exploded!”

Maude said quietly; “Tom, she’s unbelievable, she’s rude and obnoxious, and if she’s a Nun, I’m Seti’s missing dick!” She folded her arms and shook her head; “What the hell are we going to do? How are we going to get her to the Gates of Hell without MR. Death’s coin? He obviously knows about us, so why don’t we just dump her and run for it?” Then she added, taking a firm grip on my arm; “If you bang her, I’ll make sure that Seti won’t be the only one looking for his wedding tackle – right?”

"SOMETHING SIMILAR COMES TO MIND!....."

I gulped and managed a smile; “No, she doesn’t interest me at all! But if we deliver her, we’ll find out how MR. Deaths smuggling process works and we can at least report that to Senior Agent Paddy Dickwright , and maybe get the buggers off our backs - o.k.?”

Maude nodded reluctantly in agreement; “That makes sense Tom, we can use that key and see what happens.” Thus it was agreed to carry on with the assignment and get rid of this obnoxious Nun as soon as possible – if not, sooner!

Larde and Max had disappeared down the long corridor, looking for the Curator’s office and the missing organs, Pharaoh called after them; “Do you want a description, so you retrieve the right one?”

Larde looked quite bemused and shook his head; “There can’t be more than [unable to translate] in that prick stealers office, the [unable to translate] nobhead!” Larde really didn’t like the idea of some academic shit head going around stealing innocent dead peoples private parts just to hold their stupid paperwork down.

Max had produced a piece of paper and a broken pencil to record their details, but Larde booted him up the backside and dragged the protesting idiot up the corridor, followed by Norman, who I swear was laughing!

There is definitely something strange about that dog since we passed over, but I suppose the fact that Norman had taken to reading romantic novels and wearing aftershave had come as a bit of a shock to everyone.

But the strangest thing was that Norman now wore a red cravat and had painted some bloody wonderful watercolour pictures of the afterlife – they drew real critical praise and were selling really well.

Still, he is a loyal friend and so you don't mind a little odd behaviour, now and again.

Sister ‘Gobshite’ slapped me on the back again; “Are you really going to delay my f******g trip to look for some twat’s old prick?” She was blowing her cigar smoke everywhere and making Maude cough loudly.

I nodded; “We promised the old boy we would help, and we shall, o.k.?”

“Come on Tom, there’s a map of the Museum on that wall, over there, which may show us where the office is.” Maude had again come up with a great idea – she’s was intelligent and beautiful and “Ouch!” – Where the hell did she get stones to bounce off my head in this place?

I rubbed my forehead while she grinned and started studying the map.

Meanwhile, Sister ‘Gobshite’ had thrown herself down on an Ancient Egyptian bed in a nearby exhibit and was adjusting her stocking tops in front of everyone – well, the ‘lifer’s’ couldn’t see her, so just in front of us, I suppose.

I had no idea that Nun’s wore tiny bright red knickers with ‘Playboy’ motif’s on.

"NOT WHAT YOU HAD IN MIND!....HEHEHE!"

Yes, you learn something new every day when you die!

Maude grabbed my arm and dragged me away; “That’s not the private parts we’re looking for, come on, it’s down this corridor.”

Giving me a look that would make ‘Jack the Ripper’ piss his pants.

"Old ‘Jack the Ripper’ turned out all right; he runs self-defence courses for women and is regarded as one of the finest Hairdresser’s in the Afterlife’s – and just for your information, he wasn’t even mentioned in any of the books on the subject, you ‘Lifer’s’ didn’t have a clue - he was in fact, a Whitechapel barber, called Merlin Maurice Winkle-Tugger (1841- 1891) who killed all those women because: “I was bored and it seemed a good idea at the time……..”,

He stopped suddenly because he had a disagreement with a train leaving Euston Station - he was quite drunk at the time and never saw it coming as he staggered across the tracks, to relieve a book of 13th century Italian poetry he had accidentally dropped.

He’s one of Kevin’s top men in Hell, so I understand………."

Tom

"Winkle-Tugger?

Jack the Ripper was called Merlin Maurice Winkle-Tugger! - You’re kidding me Tom!”

The Ghost Writer.

"YOU WILL READ THE DAMN POETRY!"

I noticed that our guest was laid out, with her skirt pulled up, scratching her thighs and reading that popular woman’s magazine: ‘Big boys with big toys’. I wondered what order of Nuns she had belonged too – all I can say is that their administering to the needy must have been very popular………

"THE SISTERS OF JUDAS."

We didn’t get far down the corridor before Larde and Max re-appeared, Max was holding a small brown paper bag with his finger-tips and a look of total disgust on his face, but Larde was smiling with self-satisfaction.

“Got them!” He exclaimed, “That cock stealer was using them to hold down [unable to translate] and the bastard has various other [unable to translate] whole leg and thigh bone [unable to translate] holding up his desk!”

Pharaoh was delighted, jumping up and down in excitement behind the glass in anticipation of being reunited with his family jewels;”Throw them over the top of the glass case!” He yelled, rubbing his bandaged hands, causing a small cloud of dust to rise.

"ONE HAPPY PHARAOH!"

A group of ‘Lifer’s’ were huddled about the display case, peering at Seti III, who to them, was still laid out in his sarcophagus – A great man reduced to an item of interest - there was a lesson for ‘Lifer’s’, right there, but I wonder how many understood its significance?

Larde threw the brown paper bag over the top, and Pharaoh grabbed it with both hands, he couldn’t thank us enough, promising if we ever appeared in Ancient Egypt, we would be honoured guests. He would even allow us to feed the sacred royal crocodiles – with prisoners from the local jails!

"ISIS - A VERY HAPPY CROCODILE, AFTER EATING THE ENTIRE CONTENTS OF LUXOR PRISON!"

"Apparently, his favourite one was over 20 feet long and called Isis – after his beloved mum. She had her own pool just below the window of Seti III’s state bedroom, where she lay in wait for little tit-bits’ from her adoring master.

Isis wore a magnificent gold collar with Pharaoh’s name and address on, just in case she escaped and got lost!, it had taken three terrified servants to fix that collar, only one made it out to report a successful mission, but not in writing unfortunately - he’ll never pick his nose again – ever.

It was well known that any house with such a family pet was rarely burgled........."

Tom.

“Now can we get f******g going?” Sister ‘Gobshite’ had re-joined the group, she squeezed the cheeks of my arse and winked, “If yours are in a better condition than old bandages there, we could have some fun when we reach Hell!” She took another swig from her hip-flask and belched loudly.

I forced a smile and asked everyone to gather about the key, “We’ll shout ‘Hell’ three times and see what happens – good luck everyone!”

I scooped up Norman and held the key out and we all placed our hands, one on top of the other, upon it, Maude did the countdown, Max had asked if he could do it, but couldn’t get past ‘two’ even though he did have ten fingers to choose from..

Strangely enough, just as we were disappearing, I could have sworn, I saw a headless woman approaching us, wearing a dirty, long white robe. The head tucked under her arm didn’t look happy – in fact, positively angry!