How do you prosecute the Lord God for murder?

Then suddenly the disco light went off, causing Clary and I to both look up.

“Ladies and gentlemen…” shrieked a baritone voice behind me as Reynard Laughlin – Melbourne personal underworld king, famous for owning TV stations, racehorses, plus his own stable of high-class prostitutes – walked across to our party.

“Clary?   Paul?   What are you blokes doing here?” he asked with feigned camaraderie.

“Just doing the Lord’s work,” I said.

Instead of the snickers that I got from my police colleagues, Laughlin gave me a look of absolute disgust, as though I had said something obscene.   Before he could reply, though, the voice behind us added:

“Suzi Ollerenshaw … and God’s Chicks!”

Then there was a near-ear-splitting female shriek, followed by the sound of eardrum destroying loud rock music.

A squealing audience immediately charged the stage and began snapping off thousands of pictures with their mobile phones, as I turned to the stage in time to see five breath-takingly beautiful women on stage: Suzie Ollerenshaw with pixie-cut black hair, her three cousins Rusty, Wendy, and Debbie Robbins, and behind them Mary Josephs seemed determined to destroy her expensive drum-kit.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!!” shrieked Suzi Ollerenshaw again, in case someone had somehow missed her entrance.   Then immediately she broke into song:

“Sing a new song to the Lord

“All the nations come on board,

“The Lord is good

“The Lord is kind,

“The Lord has grace

“He blows my-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yind!” shrieked Suzie as I silently prayed to Jehovah to protect my poor eardrums.

“Loud enough for you,” mimed Reynard Laughlin.   His grimace suggesting that he was not the one who had booked Australia’s number one Gospel-Metal group.

*       *        *

As the song finally (thankfully!) neared it’s end, with Suzi shrieking, “My-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yind!” one final time, a gaggle of attendants began to wheel into the hall the largest cake I had ever seen, bringing with it the conflicting smells of vanilla essence and bitter lemon.

1
Liked it
Leave a Comment
comments powered by Disqus

Hi there!

Hello! Welcome to Authspot, the spot for creative writing.
Read some stories and poems, and be sure to subscribe to our feed!

Find the Spot

Loading