The Retaliation. Episode 5 - Excuse me, don't I know you....?

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.

Wednesday 26^th November – Hot’n’Hard nightclub 7.58pm

Hot’n’hard had just opened in the trendy west end of the town. It was owned and run by 55 year old ex-madame Maggie McCludgie, aka Buxom Bertha owing to her 44JJ bust of which she was exceptionally proud. She was loud and blousy and ran her establishment with a VERY firm hand, however she was loved by all who frequented her clubs.

The club was in an old flour mill warehouse, with a black painted exterior. It had a bluewhite neon sign hanging at a 45 degree angle above the entrance door, which flashed HOT- ‘N’- HARD with an electrified buzz denoting each word. 

The grand entrance had a black mini-marquee leading to the reception desk which was run by Nicholas Strathearn-Smythe, aka Knickers Nicking Nick. He was currently fulfilling a seven year sentence of community service for a series of undergarment thefts.

He was pleasantly surprised to see his lawyer, Pinky Alderman, and Lord Justice Theopholus Chiefly, the judge who sentenced him, arrive that evening, and as a gesture of goodwill, allowed them free entry free, winking cheerfully at them as he let them through.  “I recommend the Smack Shed chaps.  You can approach the bench!” he hollered after them.

Tartuffo and McKivon stepped out of the Archdiocesan chauffeur driven Mercedes and into the chilly night.  Juan Carlos Jose Rodriguez, the Mexican chauffeur employed by Biscotti had been dismissed for repeated speeding violations, so Tartuffo hired his Bulgarian housekeeper’s cousin Apostol for the job.  He would need some more training, observed Tartuffo. He constantly slammed the door on the passengers’ fingers. Tartuffo wished he would do it to him more often.

They had arranged to meet Ambrose, Duncan and Ellis in the club.  Before they entered the establishment, they were very careful to don their black face masks. “One can’t be too careful” Tartuffo reminded McKivon, recalling the spectacular downfall of Biscotti.  Ellis declined a mask, pointing to the oversized, extremely dark glasses he was wearing. He didn’t say much, but Tartuffo notice he seemed to spend an inordinate amount of time fiddling with the side of his glasses.  He frowned. There was something about Ellis he couldn’t quite figure out.....

A familiar high pitched soprano voice trilled out through the night air. 

“Ladies and gentlemen. Please could you have your ID ready”

At the sound of this familiar, friendly, falsetto voice, Ellis spun round. 

“Jo! Is that you?” Jo looked blankly at this small, slim, person.

“Er, yes.....” she said uncertainly.

“What about your job at the Curial Offices?” asked Ellis.

“Oh” said Jo, suddenly dropping an octave. “I was made redundant when Archbishop Biscotti retired. It was so sudden and unexpected.  I really loved that job....” she said softly.

“Oh, I’m sorry” said Ellis, “never mind, I’ve got a feeling that one day soon, you’ll get your job back.

“Do you really think so?” Jo tinkled, suddenly uplifted.

Ellis’s hand covered hers. “I KNOW so, my dear”.

©2010 Steven Gorman.  All rights reserved.