Episode 21 – The Realisation
“So, what are you getting at Emily?” enquired Shug, nonplussed.
“Our last rehearsal was 9th of December wasn’t it?” Emily looked around the choir questioningly.
“Yes” came the chorus of assention.
“Which was one week ago.....agreed?”
“Uh-huh” said everyone.
“But this is today’s newspaper and it’s dated 13th January 2011 and look at the headline. Kilcathclyde Kips Through Kristmas. We’ve slept through Christmas and New Year!” explained Emily breathlessly.
“Oooohhhh” the choir chorused, astonished.
“So what exactly does the article say?” asked Chris, moving out of the way to let Damian screw down a loose floorboard.
Emily read from the paper.
“..For only the fourth time in 1,686 years, the residents of the city of Kilcathclyde fell into a collective coma believed to be due to an ancient curse which was placed on the city by the defrocked saint Odious of Clachlachshire. St Odious had ambitions to be the patron saint of Kilcathclyde and have the Cathedral named in his honour, but when his evil acts of necrophilia and murder were discovered, the Catholic church excommunicated him and stripped him of his sainthood, resulting in him being adopted by satanists as the patron saint of vomit.
Legend has it that as a result of this, he placed a curse on Kilcathclyde so that whenever the city has a snowfall lasting more than 72 hours, with temperatures of -18 on the night of a full moon with the planets Neptune and Uranus in complete alignment, the city and its residents would fall into a deep state of unconsciousness lasting 44 days. These conditions occurred on the 9th of December and indeed the city and its residents came to a standstill..”
The silence in the hall was broken only by Damian’s screwdriver falling to the floor.
“So, have I been asleep since the 9th of December?” Felicity was incredulous.
“What aboot my turkey and brussel sprouts?” said Billy Burt. “I love my Christmas dinner....” he wailed.
“Can I just say something?” ventured Bonnie Belle.
“NO!” chorused the choir.
“I’m just saying.....does this mean we don’t have to rehearse Christmas carols?” continued BeBe.
“Indeed you do!” cried Chris. “I’ve written a special Christmas warm-up song for you. This will cheer you up. On your feet now!”
“Ohhhhhh......Jingle bells, jingle bells, what a lot of snow
Jingle bells, jingle bells, I'm ready now to go
Jingle bells, jingle bells, look at all that ice.
Oh what fun it would be to play with your device.
Dashing through the snow, hoping for a blow,
But you're cold as ice, can't I get some spice?
I keep hanging on hoping for some heat
Won't you open up to me and give me some to eat.
Ohhhhhh.......Jingle bells, jingle bells, I'm looking for a trick
How I wish you would put out and show me your big sleigh...
With the warm-up song still ringing in his ears, Damian slipped out of the hall, pausing only to tighten up the screws on the light switch. He wondered where the priests were. Normally Father Gabriel would come to the hall with some leftover stale cake or half-eaten biscuits for the choir’s tea. But he hadn’t appeared tonight. Maybe he and Father Eric were still unconscious.....
As Damian approached the chapel house, he saw Frank O’Dhoul wandering around the church grounds making strange clicking and tutting noises with his tongue, foraging in the undergrowth.
“Frank!” yelled Damian.
“Ssshhhh!” hissed Frank.
“What you doin’ Frank?” whispered Damian. “I’ll help.”
“Well, when I got up today, my four fabulous ferrets were missing. And they’re on the Scottish Hometown Intercity Talent Show on Friday.” began Frank.
“Oh right” said Damian.
“And I thought I could hear their little voices chattering to each other out here....” Frank’s voice began to crack with emotion. “And I came out to look for them. And now I’m really worried. I’ve been asleep for 44 days....who’s been taking care of them?”
“Funny that....” mused Damian. “My cat Ginger and Shug’s cat Bandit are missing too.....”
As Damian and Frank continued in their fruitless search of the garden, out of the oratory window of the chapel house stared a pair of glowing amber eyes, blinking under a mop of tortoiseshell fur......
©2010 Steven Gorman. All rights reserved.
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.
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