Codname: Mascara -- Part 2

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.  

IN FACT, ANY RESEMBLANCE TO ANYTHING AT ALL WILL BE REMARKABLY COINCIDENTAL.

Sunday: 3:53 PM

Archbishop’s Palace

Kilcathclyde, Scotland

“Well, I certainly appreciate you calling to confirm the appointment,” said the Archbishop.  He was seated at his large, dark wooden dining table.  He enjoyed the way the table accurately reflected his visage, especially when wearing his magnificent, mink miter, which he nearly always wore.  “You see, my phone is out of order in my office and I am relegated to making all of my calls on my own.  It’s perfectly dreadful…Well, aren’t you sweet to say such a lovely thing.  I shall include you in my evening prayers…So I’ll be seeing you tomorrow afternoon, 2:15?...Splendid.  Do you have my mobile number?  Let me give you the number.”  He gave his phone number.  “Oh, yes?”  he laughed heartily.  “Well, aren’t you sweet?...How’s your cat? …Oh she isn’t?...Oh dear…Well, I’ll be thinking of your sweet pussy in my prayers, poor thing…Yes, splendid…See you tomorrow…Bye bye…bye…bye…”

He moved the headset of the phone around and tried to turn it off.  “Damn thing.  I don't have a scoobie how to work this blasted cordless phone!  It's mince!”  He pressed buttons feverishly.  “Dammit…Twinkie!...TWINKIE!”  A rather slight young man entered the dining room.  He was extremely effeminate but rather good looking.  The bounce in his step suggested he was annoyed.

“WHAT Snugglebum?” he said, sharply.

“Hang this damnable phone up, will you?   And I shall be most pleased.”

Twinkie clucked his tongue and took the phone.  “It’s the large one on the right, Honey,” he said, crossly.

“Sorry, my love, but I can’t push the buttons properly.  You know my arthritis makes it difficult.  Why don’t you get a different phone?  I should be happiest if all my equipment worked properly the way I want it to, when I want it to, you know.  Facility in handling is most essential!”

“What precisely constitutes facility, dear?”

“I want it to do what I want it to do!” said the Archbishop, checking his teeth in the table reflection.

“Your phone should be working in the morning.  The repairman is coming first thing,” said Twinkie in a slightly calmer tone.

“Wonderful!” said the Archbishop, adjusting his miter while staring at himself in the table reflection.  He winked at himself.  He rose from the table and passed by Twinkie going into the next room.  He swatted the Archbishop on the behind.  “Remember your place…” Swat.  “…Snugglebum…”

The Archbishop cleared his throat and looked sheepishly at his lover, “Yes, dear, always.”

(c)2010 Steven Gorman.  All rights reserved.