She was right, there before us, was a lift, the doors were open and the floor sign above was showing ‘Wild Domain. [Caution: Please Don’t Feed the Animals] and there were two men in the doorway, one had a strong resemblance to Chuck Norris and the other was even uglier!
“Are you Tom?” He asked, both were dressed in white suits with Panama hats, and I replied “I’m Tom, who the hell are you?” He flashed a gold badge and said: “I’m Senior Agent Paddy Dickwright (1902 – 1963) and this is my colleague Agent Frank Longwank (1948 – 1971) we are G-Men!”
“What the hell are ‘G-Men?” Asked Max, wiping dinosaur shit from his helmet, whilst Larde watched Maude clean reptile crap from her ample thighs and those incredible breasts that could win Nature awards – Sir David Attenborough could have a TV series just about them.......
"Hooters! lovely big hooters!" |
“That's all we need, a visit from the bogging G-Men!” Maude sighed loudly.
“We are Gods men, we enforce the law here in the afterlife, and we want to talk to you.” He pointed at me and indicated we should get in the lift. Considering where we were, I thought that was a great offer, and we packed the small elevator. “Going up!” said Big Boy Frank; the Chuck Norris look-alike, who smiled at us, and pressed the button, marked ‘Witness Protection & Suckers’ and the doors closed on the ‘Wild Domain.’
"BIG BOY FRANK - IN DISGUISE!" |
“Oh shit!” I replied.
We arrived at the Headquarters of the F.B.I. (Not the Federal Bureau of Investigation but ‘FIND the BUGGERS doing ILEGAL things’) and were briefed by Officer Dickwright who explained what he wanted of us.
“MR. Death is number two on our most wanted list” He said, before being interrupted by Max, who wanted to know who No.1 was, on that listing, “Perry Como.” He said simply, and we could all understand that. But why was that epitome of an honest politician, Richard Nixon, at No.3? Life is strange, death stranger still......
“I'm being slightly sarcastic
there....”
Tom.
He looked a complete twat. He would fit in perfectly with our little group.
"SENIOR AGENT PADDY DICKWRIGHT - THE BOSS!" |
“Tom, we need to know how MR. Death ship’s his merchandise, and who is the traitor supplying the information from the ‘Collector’s’ office about those refused entry to Heaven and Hell, It’s a tall order, but with Big Boy Franks assistance and expertise, I’m sure you’ll do us proud.” Senior Agent Dickwright seemed really confident about his plan.
Well, he would be, wouldn’t he? Sitting in his nice office doing fuck all, whilst we risked getting killed……..Sorry, risked having some nasty things done to us by MR. Death and his evil ‘Naughty Boy’s Biker Gang’, maybe even ending up in the 'Outer Domain' with nothing but daytime TV for entertainment!
After being ‘wired’ by two burly agents who had cold hands, we decided to leave the office and head back to the Jewish cemetery, to find out if the other group had any success in finding the Angel In Charge. It should be noted that we were all wired, except Larde, no-one wanted to rummage in his clothes and so he was given a small ‘walkie-talkie’ but it didn’t last long - He ate it.
It took five agents, nearly twenty minutes to wire up Maude, in fact, they had to try three times before finally getting it right, placing the receiver between her fine breasts.
“That’s the last place anyone would look.” Said Agent Rupert Loveshaft (1645 – 1702) who was slightly different from the other G-Men, in that his hat was bright pink and the carnation in his lapel, was also a vivid pink.
The remaining four Agents were nursing sore testicles and agreed that it would be a very brave man, or a complete psychopath, that would have the nerve to search there...
Norman was also wired for good measure; he bit the agent who tried to hide the microphone in a place that microphones shouldn’t go. Max hid his equipment, in his cod-piece; strangely enough Agent Rupert helped him with that one, several times.
With that level of intelligence, I knew exactly what they would call ‘strings’, if any worked for this bunch.
Big Boy Frank informed us that the Angel’s name in charge of Justice and Public Sanitation was Peter, except on weekends, when he liked to be called Betty-Jean. A rather odd character, he ran the bureau with an iron fist and cheap make-up from ‘Shoe’s’, the afterlife Chemists and Purveyors of Fine Laxatives to the most discerning dead persons.
What! You didn’t know Big G had a brother? You ‘Lifer’s’ really don’t know shit, do you!
Next, you’ll say that you had no idea that Big G’s sister, Florence, was a soft-ball coach and fully licensed to practice Gynaecology in several worlds and dimensions?
“Blimey! There’s God’s everywhere!”
The Ghost Writer.
A bit like saying that ‘Jack the Ripper’ really did like prostitutes……
“Apparently old Adolf was cast into the 'Dark Domain', where he now runs a Scout Group for Zombies and works with underprivileged vampires and former Popes.
Nobody seems to know why he wasn’t sent to Hell."
Tom.
She also collects Banana trees, and has the largest collection outside of Fyffe’s Banana’s Limited, she has a particular liking for the plastic bags they wrap the fruit in……….
But there is a story circulating that Brian was originally picked to manage Hell on his brother’s behalf, but the job went to Kevin, Satan’s son, because of what the Angel Peter /Betty-Jean had in those secret files.
“I understand that Brian is a bit of a wild boy but what about Florence? She seems alright.” I said to Senior Agent Paddy Dickwright as I sucked on my fingernails and looked for the Exit; “What’s her story?”
“After the old boy retired (Satan or Clyde to his friends) He now resides in Bournemouth, running a Pet Shop with his business partner, Tony Blair, they called the store: “Nasty Pets R-Us.” It retails spiders, lizards, snakes, toads and hamsters with real bad attitudes!
Tom.
Well, Paddy leaned back on his chair, and told me briefly that Florence had been due to marry another God, can’t think of his name at the moment; Eric, I think, but everything was called off at the last minute, and after that, she sort of lost interest for a couple of million years, and that’s when she started collecting banana trees and doing medical course’s......
Then Paddy explained there were thousands of God’s, each with their own existences, and occasionally, they have conferences about creation, life, death and cookery, where they band together and try and work out the values of existence, and stuff like that.
The next conference was scheduled to be held in Las Vegas, he held up the paper: ‘The Coffin Dodgers Chronicle’, a very popular tabloid with the dead, and the headlines were about the conference, It detailed that our God was a keynote speaker; he was going to give a paper about “Basic molecular structure, DNA applications for new non-carbon life designs, advanced planet construction and cooking the perfect pot-roast.”
“Which reminds me,” Paddy added “Keep your eyes open for Lukas Watercloset (-23,765,202 to – 23,765,164) he’s an investigative reporter for this outfit.” Tapping his fingers on the newspaper, “He can smell a story from six Domains away, if he gets wind of what you’re doing, he’ll be all over you like grave dirt.”
“How will I know him?” I asked: that was the last thing I needed, a nosey reporter following us around.
“You can’t miss Lukas, he’s an ape.” Paddy muttered and turned to the sports pages of the Newspaper, “Shit! Our Zombie team has reached the finals of the Inter-Domain Head-ball Championship – should have backed them for a win.”
He seemed genuinely annoyed that he missed that betting certainty.
“Sorry, Paddy, did you say he’s an ape!” I just realised what he said,Lukas was an ape! “I thought no animals were allowed here, they’re all supposed to be in the Wild Domain, with Angel Irwin.”
“Not Lukas, he has an ape’s appearance, but he had a soul, for I heard that Big G made a race of them some time ago, even before he knocked up Humanity, and they were highly intelligent, apparently Big G cobbled them together from bits he had around creation at the time. He mixed human and animal, and Lukas was the result, so he’s perfect as an investigative journalist; animal cunning and instinct mixed with human intelligence and the desire to dish the dirt, unbeatable combination!”
“Has Big G mixed stuff like again?” I wondered: what an interesting concept!
“Mike Tyson.” He replied and shrugged his shoulders at my obvious ignorance.
Then Maude and Big Boy Frank re-joined us, she sat down and slapped my hand for chewing my nails, “Do you know there are just One million G-Men for this entire existence and that’s policing billions of people!” She smiled at me, I really wished she wouldn’t do that to someone who’s dead; it’s most disturbing.
I smiled back and started to nervously scratch my head; bloody women, you can’t be dead without them and you can’t be dead with them!
"Old saying around the Afterlife's."
Tom.
Maude again summed up the situation we find ourselves in, with just a few words: “We’re buggered, big time.”
Larde nodded in agreement “We really are [unable to translate] with bleeding great bells on!” Saluting the F.B.I. Building with his tin and then taking a long swig.
No.9 OF A 'SKELETON'S LIFE SERIES:
FORWARD TO EPISODE 10. "HOME AGAIN." |
RETURN TO EPISODE 8. "WILD TIMES." |
"THE GHOST WRITER!" |