Sexual deviance

He walked into the kitchen and was surprised not to see the frying pan on the stove congealead with bacon fat.  Nor was it in the sink.  He searched for minutes and eventually found it in the cupboard.  Alarm bells were ringing.  He walked down the corridor, it was only then that Bill noticed that it was not festooned with Hank’s old socks or underwear.  He knew that last night Hank was drunk, this was to be expected, but to not be at home?  Bill thought of all the reasons why he wasn’t.  He could have trapped…Bill slapped himself in the face.  Best to have a coffee and cigarette and think rationally.  That done he peered into his room.  A stench of death invaded his nostrils.  All was well there at least.  Then he looked at the carpet.  The fact that he could see it was a shock in itself.  But it was obvious that the take away wrappers, dirty laundry, empty bottles, and a dead badger had been shoved to the wall to allow a message, written in red,  that said “

“ARSE”. Again no surprise so he returned to the kitchen and noticed an aubergine for the first time. It was’nt that he had never seen an aubergine before it was more the circumstance. This aubergine was firmly ensconced between two buttocks and was not leaving any time soon. The buttocks were atop the table, again no real surprise nor indeed original. The head end of the buttocks was female, now this was new and warranted further investigation. On approaching the head end imagine Bill’s total surprise to see Harriet chewing a snooker ball and gyrating wildly. Bill removed the masking tape from her mouth, unbound her ankles and finally removed the handcuffs. Whilst bending to offer succour he got hit in the face with a track marked fist. She then rose from the table like some deranged junkie and ran from the flat screaming.

Life can sometimes flash by. This was how Bill reconciled himself to what happened.  As he recoiled from the blow he fell onto the collection of whisky  bottles.  It was just instinct, so he later said, that he spun round and smashed the bottle across her face. 

Fuck is such a lovely word.

“Not unless you are willing to follow up with action you scrawny shite” Harriet sneered. With that she threw herself upon the table and spread her legs so wide Bill thought she was going to split. It was then he noticed the corkscrew, the gift that he had given Hank 2 years ago and it all made sense. Harriet the lovely middle class filly, the girl who liked picnics, horses, afternoon tea and all things twee:here she was before him spread-eagled on the table the clearest picture of depravity imaginable reduced to a slathering depraved sex craved lunatic. Hank was not far away and Bill would find him. So he gave Harriet a quick seeing to (quicker than Hank a dis-spirited Harriet screamed along with do me up the arse you queer cunt, rip my minge apart and other things Bill would never understand). When he was finished he left for his bedroom and a shower with her depraved screams still ringing in his ears….”fudge clam me you knob cheese”.

He stepped from the shower, sated and satisfied that he knew that Hank was merely misplaced and not missing.  Yet… his latest piece of skirt was strapped to a table.  So where was Hank?  The flat was clean.. too clean.  That is too clean by their standards.  Yes the smell of stale cigarettes and cheese still pervaded every room. Yes the curtains wriggled when exposed to sunlight.  But the frying pan was put away.  Also ‘Arse’ was written on a clear carpet.  Harriet laid naked on the kitchen table.. yes Bill missed that when he first went into the kitchen, but to be fair he was looking for the frying pan.  But she was still there.  Hank would never have left her there.  Unrogered at least..  It meant only one thing.  Hank had been taken.

Hank was bent over the pool table groaning. Nothing had prepared him for this but there it was. All he wanted was a pint. He had done nothing wrong; Harriet had been given all she wanted (vegetarian option) and he went to the Stoke for a pint and then it all went wrong. Dave had grabbed him, frog marched him to the pool table, bent him over and made him……clean up the vomit! Job done he got down to drinking and had only just started to enjoy his morning when Bill came in. ”Double Jameson” he called.

Hank immediately said “ah go on fella”

Bill walked up to Hank prostrate on the floor, his eyes were bloodshot, and he had a strange, stale smell about him.  Bill was grateful that he was okay.  Hank loved the beer, that was obvious, but it was out of character to leave a willing young woman untouched.  That said it was out of character to leave an unwilling women untouched.  He looked down at his friend.  Hank gazed up, his dried cracked lips forming a word that his lungs could barely gasp.  He looked pale.  This coupled with the frying pan, the words on a clear carpet and his woman left inflagrante… what was going on?

He leaned forward, pressed his ear to Hanks lips to hear his words.  Hank gulped, trying to salivate his mouth, licked his lips.  Took a deep breath then whispered….

“Cunt”

Bail,Drink and Anal

The helicopter encircled the retreat, it’s spotlight illuminating the forecourt that was full of police cars and screaming disciples being hearded into the back of black mariahs.  Amidst the chaos, tv news crews were angling to get interviews but were being held back.  In one paddy wagon the Scottish cries of “ Ah fah fucks sake, ahm nae deviant, ah just got a taste fer it recently like. Na what ah mean?”

The sirens wailed as the wagon crunched down the gravel path.  Meanwhile, inside, the police had Bill sat down. They knew him.  Only too well and when they raided the retreat they initially thought he was a hostage.  When he said he was there of his own accord they laughed, asking was the guinness cheap or something.  It was as the interview progressed, they realized that although Bill was involved there was a more sinister, darker element to the recent events.

“Ok Bill so where was Hank when all this happened?”

Bill couldn’t answer, the tears streaming from his eyes obscured his vision. He had forgotten that he was handling chilli.  He was so fucked.  Yet he was sober.  So maybe drink wasn’t the cause of all his problems.  Maybe drink was just an element of his personality that he had to embrace, again.  The realization did nothing for his mood.  It only posed more questions for himself.  And the police continued to ask him more questions.  Bill stood there, numbed to the events,  if drink was not the problem then what was?

“Where is the brainwashed fucking cunt?” A familiar voice outside was heard before the knock on the door.

“Now Hank” the sergeant called “you know better than that! The brainwashed cunt is under arrest and no doubt you will post bail in ½ an hour, and then Dave will feed you both Guinness until you can drink no more, the Navy will make you both out to be heroes and my Boss will take out a life time subscription to Zantac, my career will end prematurely….do I need to go on? Fuck off and I will see you at the station in ½ an hour..

The commotion slowly petered out as Bill heard Hank walk down the corridor.  The last legible sentence he heard was Hank asking whether it would make sense in setting up a direct debit to save time.

The detective sat looking at Bill.  He had his purple robe in an evidence bag and Bill was wearing the customary custody suit.  This one was different to the usual disposable outfits.  Twelve months previously Bill and Hank thought it their civic duty to save tax payers money in having their own suits that they laundered and dropped off at the station for when they next needed them.  Bill’s had his name and on the back ‘Hank did it’ in gold lettering.

 Unfortunately he was pissed when ordering the  custody suit and the owner of the embroidery emporiums daughter had been violated at the age of 17 by Bill.  In consequence what was actually embroidered was “if they’re five and alive I am ready to jive but when they’re seven I’ve moved to heaven”. Understandably this never went down well at the station but experience had taught the police that Bill was always too pissed to notice, and thought of his overalls as a badge of honour  so tolerated it.  Tonight however even the duty inspector was at a loss.  Bill in  a cult? Hank not involved? He needed help, and fast.

The detective was a deeply religious man and had often sought solace in the church.  However the cult and cunt in front of him was not something he felt god could advise him on.  The sensible and pragmatic side of him told him that some weird cult had tried to corrupt Bill.  Yet, somehow Bill had corrupted them.  That must be something.  Every bus shelter, every civic building, every wall had the word cunt on them. Bill was responsible, sort of.  He looked at the latest charge sheet.  For some reason, instead of the accused, as customary, it read Hank and Bill, in describing what they did.  He later found out that the rest of the station had been cutting and pasting in their charge sheets for so long that it became second nature.  This particular charge involved the two of them organising an ad hoc tramp racing betting scam.  They said it was for charity.  It turned out that charity was a Nigerian prostitute new to the area. He had no choice he had to let him go.

But still his conscience screamed NO! The city was defaced and Hank did not appear to be involved. It maddened him that the two would get off with it again; no something had to be done….but no need to rush it. No indeed, revenge would be his, this blasphemy would be stopped, properly and once and for all. So the plan started to germinate in his head and DCI Bone knew that his place in heaven was guaranteed. That night after signing the release forms he drove home to his lovely wife Rosey with impure thoughts coursing through his entire body and a new determination and belief in his job that had been missing for several years. As usual Rosey had cooked and was wearing next to nothing whilst suggesting that it was bed time for both of them; whilst checking all the electrical equipment in the house, the last noises heard from acacia street was a whimpering plea of a desperate man shouting ‘no, I am not going to faint, I promise’.

Bill left the police station with his property in a manilla envelope.  He started to walk home, his mind racing and trying to process all that happened recently.  He simply let one foot fall in front of another expecting to end up at his front door.  When he broke from his reverie he was stood at the bar, and Dave said’ that will be £127 Bill”.

He shook his head and took stock of his surroundings.  Ok.  He was in the pub.  No surprise there.  But £127? He looked at the newly poured pint of guniness in front of him.  Had prices gone up that much. 

“Er how come?”

“well Hank told me where you were.  But he said he knew you would be released and so you deserved a party.  He said he had no money but knew you wouldn’t mind.  Anyway he drank too much and ended up vomiting on the pool table.  That is when I sent him home. He said you would understand”

And understand he did. That fat useless Irish piece of shit had screwed him for the last time. That cunt would never put him in an embarassing or illegal or compromising position again. Yet another determined attitude was fostered; wrongs would be righted and sins undone…after this pint, Christ but it tasted good. “same again Dave with a double Jameson chaser” he called. Dave went home and Bill stayed til God knows what time but he awoke next day at home, in his own bed, with a sore head and some burbling Scot smelling of cleggy singing about a nun who loved fish beside him. Instinctively he felt his arse, his own not Als and all appeared normal, no drips or clots and no camera to catch it all. Maybe life had turned a corner after all.

Torture and penance

“BILL!” she called out” I didn’t see you at the communal flogging and self deprecation”

“Er yes, sorry about that, bit of a dicky tum.  In fact I’d suggest everyone leave it about half an hour before they try the heads again”. She nodded and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“you  poor thing.  You know it is our lord expelling satan’s minions from your colon.”

Bill, from years of gambling had his best poker face on when he retorted” Yeah and your leader made a good job of giving them a nice wide opening for them to leave didn’t he”

“Pardon?” But before she could question him any further the leader walked in with two disciples pushing a blanket covered trolley in his wake.

“Brothers, Sisters, Bill. I am so proud of you all.  Now you all know how I denigrate the media and the devils means of spreading his lies.  But for today we must facilitate the demons tools for us to see the benefits of Christ Uniting Nations Together.”  He glanced to the disciples by the trolley, with a flourish the blanket was removed to reveal a large 32 inch plasma tv screen.  “Now I have arranged to have the devils window moved from my bedroom for us all to see how our glorious lords work has reached the world via the news networks.  Come, brothers, sisters and Bill, let us see our handy work!”

The tv was switched on, either by design or by coincidence the opening titles of BBC news 24 was playing.  The Almighty Avengers leaned in closer to the screen as the attractive presenter smiled then announced “The City of Plymouth was the victim of mass vandalism last night from what seems to be a profane and vulgar group of local terrorists……”

The leader, indignant, shouted “How dare they proclaim the word of our lord as a profanity..”

The announcer continued “… what can only be assumed to be drunken youths, last night decided to write CUNT all over the city…”

The television was quickly switched off.

That day Hank was on an early. Still quite pissed he decided that it was best to get the bus. Surprise was an understatement; at first, looking at the excess of graffiti before him the first thought to enter his drink sozzled mind was “what have I done now?” The journey to work made his sense of dread deepen, to such an extent that he reported to the CO first thing.

“Sir, the whole thing is a misunderstanding, I give you my word that I spent the night alone reading the bible; do you know that some poor buggers wife got turned to salt, I mean it got me thinking, salt is useful..”

“Chief, what the fuck are you on about? If this is another scheme by you and Mason then forget it, I am not a soft touch like some others may have been. As soon as Mason returns from his course the two of you will be right in the centre of my radar. Don’t you think for one minute that you two semi literate morons can fool me. Now piss off to work and do the only thing that you do well. No stop, when is Mason due back from his course?”

“Sir, it is a developing course and as such there are no boundaries, you know what academics are like and Mason as you call him has become terribly imbued with the new movement, all I can say is that I know in my heart that he will come back a better man.” With that he left, the CO felt that he had got his point across and Hank was confused. At work it became apparent that the overnight defacement of Plymouth had nothing to do with him.

To be honest even Hank was shocked, well not shocked but ……intrigued, there must be some really interesting people at large and speaking of large the sun was well over the yardarm and the toilet was calling.

Hank walked back to the main corridor with a spring in his step.  He felt a great weight had been lifted, physically it had but the conversation amongst his fellow nurses sunk him again.

“So Hank you are saying you weren’t out last night.  Are you sure?”

Hank sagged his shoulders.  Honestly why would everyone think he was responsible for everything bad that happened.  Okay, empirical evidence would suggest that usually he was but jesus….. yes jesus.  The thought rang a little warning sound in his mind.

“No for fucks sake. Jeez why would you cunts think I would write such a thing?”

They looked at each other, “Well we’re not saying it could be you.  It’s just that if not you then who would?  By the way how is Bill doing on his course?”

The alarm bell in Hanks mind was now ringing louder.  Klaxons were now playing.

“Erm, yes he’s doing ok.  Look I have a few things I need to sort out.  Can I knock off early?”

Meanwhile the Almighty Avengers were having a crisis meeting. The leader had gathered all the team leaders together and it had been realized that it was Bill who decided on the abbreviation.  Bill was sat in the sacred circle, naked but for his sack cloth the leader walked around him.

“So it was you who thought to write it?”

“Write what?”

“The word.  The word all over the city”

Bill shuffled in his seat.  “I thought that you wanted me too”

The leader spun widly, spittle in the corner of his mouth as he grabbed Bill by his shoulders and with his snarling mouth inches from Bill’s face “ And what in god’s name, our holy father made you think I would want you to do that you, you  you ….. you!”

Bill looked at the arms on his shoulders, felt the nails digging in and was a tad uncomfortable.  He looked the Leader in the eye as he said “Look fella, the last thing you said to all of us was how important it was to spread the word”

“Not that fucking word”

The bretheren gasped. A hush descended in the refectory. Celia allowed herself a small gasp. Things were’nt as they should be. The leader had uttered a profanity, he had lost his self control; no, things were not looking good. Luckily Robert was there to restore some semblance of  order. Bill was frog marched into the cleansing room. All she could do was pray and she did not let the screams distract her. And Robert was screaming, he had just seen his leader lose control and so his world was falling apart. To compound the issue Bill had had found his confiscated items and was busy making up for lost time, after his first long draft of Sainsbury Whiskey he looked at his erstwhile tormentor, yes Robert needed to be taught a lesson and the screaming was certainly not helping. Putting the brown and slightly whiffy hip flask on the floor he gently moved the screaming idiot to the gurney and then proceded to perform his own version of the wax treatment; involving a small cleaver and some chilli powder.

The scene that met celia as she entered the room was like a scene from her worst nightmares, Bill had hold of Roberts cock and was pumping it furiously whilst laughing maniacally. She did not realize that he was working the chilli powder deeper into the now burning member and when Bill had a coughing fit and was forced to bend whilst the hot member entered his mouth the poor girl could only jump to one conclusion, the end was nigh. With that she ripped all earthly things from her body and ran from the retreat buck naked, only stopping when a strange Scottish bloke drinking some foul concoction called cleggy wrestled her to the ground and asked her to play dead.

Joining a Cult

On the way back to the flat conversation was somewhat stinted so to fill the gap Bill asked;”what do people who don’t go to pubs actually do? I mean how do they fill in the time after work and before work and during their holidays? Actually what do people actually do? This hit him like a bombshell. What was he actually missing out on. Wow just 1 day on and already he was asking important questions. Things were improving, his mind was working and his body was…….farting. On the other hand Celia was thinking “what sort of task has the Lord set upon me? Surely the labours of Hercules were nothing compared to what she was facing? It was at this time that she realised the true enormity of the task in front of her and she decided on the next course of action. Bill would have to be removed from all temptation and stripped of all his materialistic needs. Luckily the AA had a retreat in the country where he could be isolated from all the temptation that surrounded him. Now all they needed was transport and uniforms.

When she mentioned going away Bill thought things were going swimmingly.  Not a man to be afraid of committing too early in a relationship he thought a holiday was a great idea.  He phoned work trying to think of a good excuse why he wouldn’t be in work but they still thought he was on ‘the course’.  He thought that was a problem he would face later.  It wasn’t really a problem as he had a computer and could easily knock up a certificate.

When they got to the retreat he thought it was a strict health spa.  They got there and a  weedy bloke in a tracksuit asked him to get changed into a purple robe.  Once suitably attired, with Celia stood next to him, the young man with the name badge of Robert asked him to place all of his outside evils in the tray on a desk.

Bill was perturbed to say the least, “hang on rob, what do you…”

“It’s ROBERT.” 

Alright, touchy. Bill thought.  “Okay RoBERT, what do you mean, exactly by ‘outside Evils?”

“Well Sinner,”  Sinner is it you scrawny fuck, Bill thought, When my bird isn’t here you and me are going to have words sunshine. “ Every aspect of your outside life needs to be collected to prevent distractions during your time here.”

Bill was not happy with this but Celia’s encouraging looks made him deposit his ‘evils’.  In went his mobile phone, two packs of cigarettes and a can of lager.

Robert looked at him expectantly. “What?” Bill asked

“is that everything?  We will search you.”

Bill sighed and put in a large Cigar, another pack of cigarettes and a hip flask.

“You won’t be needing your wallet either.” Said Robert.  You’re enjoying this you slimy cunt, Bill thought.  Yet the smile from Celia melted his pugnacious spirit and he placed his wallet on the tray as well.  After this Bill, dressed in his purple linen robe was escorted into an ante room.  Celia didn’t follow.  As the door closed behind him he turned, surprised to see her not there.  That was when he was pushed against the wall and a further two hip flasks were taken from him, despite his protests. Realisation quickly dawned and he was not happy. All he had left was the ¼ litre flask and 2oz packet of tobacco with papers up his arse. Then again it couldn’t last forever and he was sure that Celia would come across very quickly. With this thought in mind he swaggered to the next room. Before him he saw a gurney and a length of house pipe. Perplexed he realised that ROBERT and some quite butch colleagues were propelling him towards the gurney and the next thing he knew he was strapped down and the hose pipe was snaking up his colon which worryingly was not as unpleasant as he had imagined. Needless to say the pipe found the last of the secret stache so he lay there, robed in purple, with a sore arse and no booze or fags. On the other hand Celia was still about and his life was changing so he staggered towards the exit door. On the other side he found  the leader naked as the day he was born, with open arms and a big smile on his face.  “Bill, so glad to see you here.  Come brother join me in worshiping our lords creation and remove your robe.”

The world had stopped.  The world had stopped and left Bill in the toilet.  That was the nearest explanation that entered Bill’s mind.  It was in this confusion that unseen hands undid and removed his robe.  As this was done Celia entered the room in all her glory.  Her pert breasts and toned body more than made up for her, now obvious ‘as nature entended’ and hirsute body.  Even the wisps of pubic hair that Bill didn’t even know could grow in such places, was an obscure turn on.  It had the obvious effect.

“ We’ll have none of that!” Screamed the, previously unseen, prima donna sized mustachio-ed female naked women who promptly whipped Bill’s engorged manhood with a birch. “Oh leader he needs the wax treatment, the devil is strong within him. Satan needs to be purged at once, allow me to expunge the devil from within him. Oh leader I can feel the force and know that I can beat him!”

“Begin the wax treatment” screamed the leader. With that Bill had his manhood strapped to a table, a table he noticed was early 17^th Century and worth a few pounds. The room however had become cold and his manhood had reacted accordingly which was quite embarrassing  as Celia was staring at him intently. However as she satcheed into the room he found his maleness returning and felt that once again he could face the future with confidence. Smiling smugly he began to wonder what the wax treatment actually was but luckily he did not have long to wait. Stroking his engorged member Celia smiled at him in a manner that could only mean one thing. Physiologically he responded accordingly whilst mentally he strayed and took his eye off the ball. Celia kept her eye on the ball and raising her arms above her head Bill was shocked to see that she was holding a large mallet, even more surprisingly she brought it down on his engorged member with extreme force resulting in the wax leaping from his ears and just before passing out he realised what the wax treatment was.

Awakening some time later Bill was aware of an excruciating  pain in his loins; his first thought was of Celia and he began to wonder just how good had he been to be left feeling like this but slowly realization began to dawn….. “Oh sweet Jesus” he screamed just as the leader entered his room.

“that’s the attitude young man, there is hope for you yet; now that I have witnessed your acceptance of our Lord I feel that we can move on to the next stage, get dressed and meet me in the refectory in 15 minutes.” With that he left with a swirl of his purple robe leaving Bill wondering just how he would escape from this madness. Dressing gingerly in sackcloth Y fronts and purple robe he made his way to the refectory. On a small dias at the front stood a flip chart and the leader.

“Welcome brother, now that we are all gathered I am pleased to inform you of the next stage in our plan, Operation Purify; as you will all be aware society today is full of filth, no matter where we turn we are confronted with pornographic images; in magazines; on billboards and in every aspect of modern life. Today we are going to start the battle to win back the moral high ground. Stage 1:

At night we will split into 3 groups, each group will be allocated an area of the city and will deface all offending material that is in the public eye, posters, advertisements public transport and anything which is morally abhorrent. To ensure that all are aware of our message all offending articles will be “tagged”. Our slogan will deface all these satanic images; yes brothers and sisters we will paint our slogan “ Christ Unites Nations Together” will spell our message to all, so go forth, gather your weapons and do Gods work.” With that he left. Bill and Celia were one group and had the city centre. In a whirl of pain and confusion Bill was led from shop to shop buying spray paint and taking notes of all offensive images in their area of operations. By 23:00 they were set and soon had painted their messages on several busses and advertising hoardings. Soon it was 00:30 and Bill was knackered, too knackered to stay up all night crusading so he suggested that they shorten their message well not the message but the means of expressing it, instead of painting the whole “Christ Unites Nations Together” they would just use the first letters of each word, delivering a stronger and much more eye catching slogan.,: an anacronym of their anarchy was a sound bite that struck a chord with his new bretheren.  It struck a chord so deep that no one noticed the word that they were now spraying on buses and bus shelters, on shop windows and bill boards.  By four o’clock they had finished and were exhausted.  A clapped out camper van picked up the avengers and followed the leaders limousine back to the retreat.

The following morning they all gathered in the dining room after the morning prayer and self flagellation.  Celia, with the back of her robe stained with blood began to look around the room for Bill.  He walked in last, fresh faced, the first morning in a long time that he had no hangover.

God, sex, alcohol and salvation

Hank appeared to be amused by the story and one look at Harriet told him that he shouldn’t be. He excused himself and went to the kitchen to make some more coffee. Maenwhile Celia and Harriet carried on the conversation. Harriet was not nearly as clean cut as Celia but she had a good heart and cared for people. She was in the fortunate position of being able to indulge her caring tendencies as her father gave her a considerable allowance meaning that she did not actually have to work for a living. In Celia she saw someone who was at heart a good person if a little misguided. As it transpired Celia had now found a worthwhile project in Bill. This was a little disconcerting as Harriet had decided to see if she could help Bill through his alcohol problem but then again she would now be able to spend more time with Hank. Now he was far from perfect himself but had a roguish charm all of his own. Not for one minute did she think that Hank was what he was pretending to be at the minute. His history was a fairly open book after all and despite the efforts at civilized behaviour over the last few days his true persona was never far from the surface and that was what made him interesting after all. So it was decided that Bill would be Celia’s project. That night she slept on the floor in his room to ensure that no demons were able to get to him. Next morning Hank was in the kitchen making bacon sandwiches whilst Bill was having his head held over the toilet. When he and Celia entered the Kitchen they sat at the table and Hank placed a large plate of sandwiches in front of them along with a pot of fresh coffee. They were flung back across the table at speed, at so much speed that Bill was unable to get one. He looked at Celia with a questioning look on his face.

“The lord does not want you to eat rotting flesh. He provides for us through nature without the need to murder his innocent creatures. From now on you will only eat naturally growing foods that have given up on life and are on the cusp of decomposure. In this way you will purge the evil that lurks in your body.”

“Hold on one minute Celia. I appreciate that you are trying to help me. Drink is my demon. I need to keep up my strength and vegetarian food wont do that. I need the nutrients that meat provides!”

“Satan is speaking from within you, you need to trust me and the Leaders teachings. Now we will leave this place and find what is needed. Come with me now and we find what God has provided for our morning meal.” With that Celia took him by the hand and led him from the house. Twenty minutes later he found himself on a council provided allotment watching Celia scrabbling in the earth. On the way she had explained that in AA they could eat food that had grown in the earth without aid from fertilizers or pest control measures of any kind. Coupled with this the food had to have reached maturity and so be dying. This he quickly figured meant eating rotting vegetables. Determined not to suffer such a fate he started backing away quietly from Celia who was under a bush picking some kind of berry from the ground. Unfortunately he backed into the Leader who was also out getting his breakfast.

“Children” said the leader, “I see you are harvesting the Lords bounty, and it makes me glad to see you both on the righteous path. You will find the coming days difficult, not least young Bill because of the new diet. Yes it will be an uncomfortable and windy path you have started upon but with our help and hard work on your behalf the Lord will enter you and give new meaning to your life. Now if you will excuse me I have my breakfast to find.” With that the leader set off on all fours into a gooseberry bush leaving Bill to wonder what exactly he had got himself into. One look at Celia convinced him that it was worth hanging in there a little bit longer. Like a vision she emerged from the bushes with her arms full of decaying vegetation and her face covered with a beaming smile which he just melted into.

Walking back to the flat having eaten their meagre breakfast, Bill was a little disconcerted by the noises erupting from her trousers but felt that the end result may make a little sacrifice seem insignificant. With the thought of her slim buttocks racing through his brain he absent mindedly walked into the road narrowly avoiding a bus in the process. He was rescued once again by Celia and his feelings were confirmed that his life had reached a crossroads and his lollypop lady had arrived. Meantime Celia was explaining their plans for the day. At that moment he shat himself.

Not literally, but with his recent abrupt change in diet, he was surprised he hadn’t.  The metaphorical defecation was as a result of hearing Celia’s planned itinerary.  Celia was beautiful, there was no questioning of the fact.  This made anything she did excusable.  Every female serial killer is ugly, it’s why the legal system, which is dominated by blokes, get sent down.  If Myra Hindley didn’t have a face like a rat catchers bait bag she’d be working in child care and head Akela of a scout movement today.  No Celia’s beauty painted a polished glaze over her plans after he thought about it.

So Bill was in church and was stood in the queue waiting to take communion.  Celia attended Mass every morning and wanted Bill to follow her pious example.  When she asked him had he been confirmed he said yes.  He thought she meant to ask if he had any previous problems in the bedroom department, but he had got firm a few times without the help of linked video and audio aids. Now, first in line to receive the holy sacrament, and with eyes closed and mouth open he waited to receive the holy eucharist on his tongue. This thought of receiving  the continuing form of the lords flesh on his tongue sent his mind racing and opening his eyes he saw the priest staring at him. In a flash Bill’s mind went into overdrive and he imagined that the guy in a white frock at the altar might be gay and want to place his meat on his tongue. With this thought in mind he stood up.  The priest looked at him, “Is there a problem?”

“Erm sorry, I’ve never..” He glanced at Celia who was frowning.  Fuck he had already lied to her about taking communion and began to doubt that it meant fellating the old bloke stood before him.  It was then that he recalled the priest mentioning bread.

“Er no father it’s just that erm, I have a wheat allergy, I forgot.” He smiled, quite pleased with his quick thinking.

“Well my son I’ll just give you a blessing and that will suffice.”  He placed his head on Bill’s head and mumbled a blessing.

“Cheers shipmate, are we done?”

“Erm yes my child there is just the rest of the sacrament, the blood of our lord.” with that he nodded towards the altar man holding the silver chalice.

“Blood of christ? So what exactly is that?”

“It is wine that…”  But he never got to finish the sentence as Bill briskly walked to the man and patted him on the shoulder.  There was a brief struggle as  Bill tried to take the cup form him saying “ alright Grandad I can feed myself an’all, hand the cup over!”