WHAT YOU ARE ABOUT TO READ IS:
IRRELIGIOUS, IRREVERENT, AND IRRELEVANT.
THE PEOPLE, PLACES, AND EVENTS CONTAINED IN ST MUCKYMUCK ARE COMPLETELY FICTIONAL. ANY AND ALL RESEMBLANCES TO REAL PEOPLE, REAL PLACES, AND/OR REAL EVENTS PAST, PRESENT, OR FUTURE IS PURELY COINCIDENTAL.
THE PEOPLE, PLACES, AND EVENTS CONTAINED IN ST MUCKYMUCK ARE COMPLETELY FICTIONAL. ANY AND ALL RESEMBLANCES TO REAL PEOPLE, REAL PLACES, AND/OR REAL EVENTS PAST, PRESENT, OR FUTURE IS PURELY COINCIDENTAL.
IN FACT, ANY RESEMBLANCE TO ANYTHING AT ALL WILL BE REMARKABLY COINCIDENTAL.
St Mochemoc’s Metropolitan Cathedral – 1.14pm
“Well” said Shug. “It’s obvious. We see this kinda thing all the time back home, in my old parish of St Oreo in Oregon. We’re just simple country folks and we get possessed all the time.”
Ina raised her top lip in a sneer. “Aye, I can believe that – you’re definitely haunted, ya little queer!” she muttered under her breath.
“Eh?” said Lily Laidlaw, clearly shocked.
“I said Shug’s definitely undaunted, dear....”
Lily tottered away, mumbling to herself.
Father Gabriel began rummaging around in the sacristy for the phone number to the Archbishop’s home in Poshloch, an upmarket suburb on the south side of Kilcathclyde. He knew that Biscotti would be having his weekly pedicure just now, so it would be a good time to catch him.
He dialled the number carefully.
“Hello, Archbishop’s residence” said a high pitched male voice. “Julian Gaylord speaking”.
Father Gabriel frowned. “Another chiropodist? Whatever happened to Bunty Hunter?” he wondered.
“Is the Archbishop available?” he continued.
“Wait and I’ll see...I think he’s in the Jacuzzi...” the voice trailed off “Clemmeeeee, darling......phone” Julian’s voice had reached castrato levels.
“Yeeessss?” drawled Archbishop Biscotti into the pink 50s style telephone earpiece.
“Your Grace, it’s Gabriel Campbell from St Mocheomoc’s. We have a bit of a special situation here....one of our parishioners is evidently......well.....she’s possessed.”
“Ooooohhhh, possessed?” repeated Biscotti. “Now that’s interesting. Stop that darling, it’s making my toe numb.....sorry Gabriel, where was I? Ah yes, possessed....who’s possessing her?” his voice trailed away, disinterested.
“We think she needs an....exorcism” said Gabriel meekly.
“Exorcism!” Biscotti exclaimed, suddenly alert. “Ooohh, can I come? I haven’t been to one of those since, hmmm....let me think.....the big one of ‘73?”
“Yes” said Gabriel, “I was just a seminarian then.”
“When is it?” enquired Biscotti excitedly.
“Well, we’re going to have it at tonight’s 6pm mass – you know, at sundown...?”
“Ohhh” said Biscotti, suddenly deflated. “I can’t. I’m on the judging panel for this year’s Young Drag Teen Talent Contest at Twinkers tonight.....”
“Your Grace.” said Gabriel firmly. “You must be with us. It’s in the Rubixcubix that an Archbishop must attend an exorcism. There must be three priests.” Gabriel was getting desperate now.
“Well, if you put it like that, how can I refuse?” Biscotti giggled coquettishly. “I’ll send Monsignor Marco Black to Twinkers in my place.....I’m sure he’ll get a kick out of that.”
“By the way, Gabe” he added, “Tell Lily Laidlaw to lay out my black mitre – you know the one with the ermine lining.....”
“Yes, Your Grace.” Gabriel hung up heaving a sigh of relief.
Now for Father Eric.
Father Eric Lloyd Griffiths was his assistant priest at St Mochemoc’s, middle aged, quiet, rather nervous and something of a hypochondriac. Gabriel made his way to the chapel house with a heavy heart to approach him.
Meantime, Shug was enthusiastically going through his green Exorcism Book 1, which contained suitable music for an exorcism. He always carried it with him. Shug knew Gabriel was very keen on the appropriate music being used at services.
He flicked through the pages....”That old black magic”, “Help”, “Please release me”, “Spirit in the sky”.....
”Oh yes” said Shug, smugly, “these’ll do nicely.”
His own personal favourite “Could it be magic” fell out of the last page. “Oh, a perfect prep song!”
“Right!” he clapped his hands. “Choir! Get your music ready! Where’s your exorcism robes?”
Sister Gertie was very excited. “Here they are!” she shouted, flinging open a cupboard in the sacristy with a flourish. Contained within were white flowing robes with wide sleeves, each one topped with a ku klux klan style face covering. Every chorister was also to be given a hand held flame torch.
“Oooohhhhh” chorused the choir and immediately stampeded into the sacristy to claim their robes, knocking Ina over in their rush to get there.
“Ouch” squawked Ina. “What are you lot trying to do.....put me back in a coma?” She tutted, dusted herself down and elbowed her way to the front of the queue.
In the meantime, in the farthest corner of the sacristy, Lily Laidlaw, the bossy, intolerant, and self-appointed head sacristan was busying herself laying out the priests’ robes for the ceremony.
On the instruction of Shug, who was a definitive authority on exorcisms, Lily went to the Relic Room. The Relic Room contained, not surprisingly, the relics of St Mocheomoc. Pilgrims and worshippers could only touch the door to the room, or place petitions (and money) under the door, but entry was forbidden.
Only a privileged few were permitted into the room, and Lily made sure she was one of them. She unlocked the heavy wooden door and entered the room, pausing only to pick up the many £20 and £50 notes lying on the floor, placing them slyly in her pocket.
The room was bare except for an empty brown box turned upside down acting as a makeshift table in the middle of the floor. On top of the box, was a rusty shortbread tin, embellished with three purple thistles with the word McSkanks Shortie in tartan lettering printed on the top.
Lily picked up the tin and rattled it. She gingerly opened it to reveal the relics and remains of St Mocheomoc. There was his left patella and about a thimbleful of his dandruff in the box. Lily noticed that the dandruff had become mixed with the shortbread crumbs lurking in the corner of the box. “Ach, whit the hell...!” she said with an unconcerned shrug.
She took the box into the sacristy, carrying it with mock reverence and placed it beside the three black surpluses she had laid out for the priests. She then added the Archbishop’s ermine lined mitre to the pile, plus the industrial size bottle of holy water which would play a pivotal role during the exorcism.
She then brought from the cleaning cupboard a large wooden crucifix, measuring around 6ft long by 4ft wide, to which the victim would be chained with iron manacles.
Shug was still directing the exorcism preparations.
“We’ll need boiling water and some white towels” he instructed.
“Get some olive oil, some garlic, and a soft boiled egg. Put the stove on at gas mark 6.”
Lily looked at Shug, perplexed. “Bloody yanks!” she muttered.
Meanwhile over in the chapel house, Father Gabriel was trying to persuade Father Eric to assist with the exorcism. Eric was having difficulty hearing what Gabriel was saying due to the shrill, ear piercing screams which were coming from the guest bedroom where Emily was tethered to the spare bed.
She was being guarded by Tillie McSkirlie, Gabriel’s elderly gossipy housekeeper who was trying her best to keep up with the constant bed linen changes. She really had her work cut out as every fifteen minutes, Emily was spewing bile and vomit all over everything and everybody within a 10 meter radius of the bed. St Odious was really living up to his patronage.
Tilly was also working hard to stop Emily floating away and causing havoc in the chapel house. She had already floated into Gabriel’s bedroom and vomited into his underwear drawer. Twice.
So, Tilly had devised a lasso-style rope which she used like a noose around Emily’s neck to keep control of her.
In the kitchen, Gabriel and Eric were having a coffee.
“Well.....is it really necessary Gabriel?” stuttered Eric, “I mean, she seems alright to me.......a wee bit more animated than usual, but other than that, she’s .......fine?”
“BAAAAASTARDSSSSSS!!!!!” came the shriek from the guest room.
“Well, maybe......yes,......well.......would I have to do anything? I feel a bit giddy today actually.......”
“Jesus Eric!” began Gabriel...
“AAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHH” The sound seemed to come from the depths of hell.
“Ok. Ok. I can do it.” Eric took a deep breath. “Yes, yes......ohhh, no, no...” he began to hyperventilate.
Gabriel walked resignedly over to the pile of brown paper bags he kept ready for Eric’s little panic attacks and thrust one over Eric’s face.
Tilly entered the room, holding the lasso with Emily floating behind.
“Fathers, the Archbishop’s arrived at the church.”
Emily heaved, gagged and promptly vomited into Gabriel’s coffee.
“Enjoy!” she growled, laughing maniacally.
“Right Eric, pull yourself together, it’s the Biscuit” Gabriel put his arm around Eric and led him, huffing and puffing into his brown paper bag to the Church and into the sacristy to meet His Grace.
“I’LL GET YOU – ALL OF YOU – AND YOUR STUPID MUSIC DIRECTOR! BAAAAAASSSTARDSSS!!!!” The blood curdling screeching followed the priests over to the church.
Father Gabriel helped Father Eric to a chair once inside the church. He stopped abruptly when he saw the choir standing in their places with Shug and Ina both preparing to conduct.
“Shug?” he said somewhat hesitantly. “Why are the choir dressed like a murderous lynch mob?”
“Oh Boss, don’t worry, this is the way we do it back home....we take the victim, we strap her to a cross, take a stake and put it thro....”
“Stop!” Seeing Father Eric’s face turning green, Gabriel hurried over to Shug.
“Go Noodle!” he said pointedly.
And with that he grabbed Father Eric and frogmarched him into the sacristy.
“Ah, Your Grace” said Gabriel.
“Ohhhh.....” Eric felt his legs buckle underneath him.
Gabriel shook his head and addressed Archbishop Biscotti, who was by this time dressed and ready for the service of exorcism. He was wearing his black, satin, leopard print lined surplus, plus his black, ermine trimmed mitre with CB embroidered on the front with scarlet silk thread.
“Now Your Grace” Gabriel began, “I think it may be a good idea to let me perform that actual rite of exorcism....you can concelebrate, if it pleases you...”
“Oh no, no, no Gabriel” blustered Clementino “It does not please me, after all, I am the most senior clergyman here!”
“No, I insist” persisted Gabriel, “it could be dangerous, so Father Eric and I.....”
The toilet door slammed loudly behind them.
Gabriel glanced round. Eric had disappeared.
“Well,” continued Gabriel, “I will exorcise this evil spirit......”
“Tut tut! Now come, come Gabriel. Leave this to me” Biscotti flashed a very white, but very false smile.
“But Your Grace” said Gabriel, “there’s bound to be publicity......”
“Oooh really?” Biscotti really had the bit between his teeth now. “Do you think there’ll be cameras...........? He moved over to the mirror now, admiring himself from every angle, holding in his ample tummy.
He sidled closer to Gabriel “Is that old girdle still kept in its usual place Gabe?” he whispered conspiratorily.
At that instant, the bell denoting the beginning of mass rang and Chris Smith the organist played the opening bars of “Bohemian Rhapsody”.
“Me” whispered Gabriel as they processed up the aisle.
“No. Me” hissed Clementino loudly.
“Me!” said Gabriel, more firm this time.
“Me. Me. Me.” said Clementino through clenched teeth. “It’s all about me.”
“And that’s final”.
