‘What the !!**!!’ He cried. ‘Calm down Dan, I thought you’d be impressed?’ She said, slowly floating towards him. ‘Oh! I’m impressed all right. At how hard I hit my head. Those pudding bowl lids are indeed, all there cracked up to be!’ Pea pods trying to protect a tiny pea, he thought. Dan attempted to stand, but felt that his legs were, somehow, higher than his arms. He looked down only to see that he was floating as well, only about a foot off the ground, but it felt like a bloody mile. ‘It’s okay, Dan. Just relax and stand still. You need to take it all in, slowly and gently. Your situation, I mean.’ ‘I’m dead, aren’t I?’ he said with a slight wobble of his lower lip. She shouted, ‘Well, you took your bloody time getting that penny to drop, Dan!’
‘Why me? Why now?’ Asked Dan. She replied. ‘Well, why not? You’ve been drifting through life, dreaming and wishing your way through, always envious of others who have achieved way more than you ever thought possible. Besides Big G, “The Almighty One”, she said in a sarcastic tone. Has decided that he fancied a bit of a laugh and needed cheering up. As it had been a bit of a rough year, for Big G. What with tsunamis, hurricanes and terroristic/diplomatic dramas rattling his kharma. Oh! And the manmade pandemic, which really ruined his holidays. So, it turns out that you’re it! The answer to his lack of comedic moments.’
Dan replies, ‘Well, that’s effing marvellous. I am going to be his/hers Pratfall artist!’ Dan was a little miffed by now. His life and now death, was turning into a no-hoper. A real Oscar winning achievement in the life and death awards category. She replied, trying to be as sympathetic as a sarcastic angel could be. ‘Well, you were only on your way to that Xmas routine of cosy slippers, over engineered Xmas jumpers and egg nogs at your Mothers, so what you whinging at?’
‘I thought you Angels were caring, loving, polite kinda phenomenon?’ said Dan. ‘My dear boy we are, but between you and me, the bad news for female kind is that PMT is still a real bitch, even when you’re dead! And I'm feeling a little tetchy right now. so don't push it.... Okay!?
Dan’s expression was a little gaunt and drawn by now, but always being the optimist. He said, ‘So, Angel, what’s in it for me then? What do I have to do to keep Mr. G amused?’ The so called Angel gently floated away from Dan and looked around. ‘Think it’s time to move on from here. It's a little too obvious, two beings floating above the A53. And my name’s bloody Shirley. Okay!?’ Dan retorts, ‘Oooh! Touchy! So when do I get to meet God then?’ The aura around Shirley was getting progressively agitated, as sparks of (whatever it was), began firing off in all directions, so she grabbed his hand and with a glow of warm light surrounding them both and accompanied with a comfortable warm feeling in his trousers, they had arrived at what could only be described as a bloody enormous showroom. As Dan looked from left to right, there seemed to be no end to it, a bike showroom that crossed eternity. ‘There is a God,’ whispered Dan. And just then a voice boomed through the strangely rolling fog that encompassed the showroom. ‘I heard that!’
Dan looked up at the sign above the showroom and burst into hysterical laughter. ‘What’s so funny?’ said Shirley. ‘Boy, there are going to be a few disappointed HOG members down there.’ As a sign displayed...ST. MICHAELS MZ (Motorradwerk Zschopau) SPECIALISTS flashing above the showroom door. ‘Well, this is the best part, Dan. So enjoy it. You get to shop 'til ya drop, you can choose whatever you want. Bike gear, t-shirts, even all the extra shiny farkles, if you feel the need.’ Shirley said with a smile, fondly remembering her first ever excursion into the Skoda dealership during her ascension. In this garage you seem to lose your wings, and find your feet when your no longer burdened with mortal issues, as ya would have been down on Earth, so Dan ran and tripped his way between the endless lines of two wheelers.
He swung the doors opened and screamed with delight, ‘HEAVEN!’ ‘He’s catching on!’ said Shirley. For two mortals, what would have seemed like weeks was in fact only a blink of an eye on the dial of the celestial pocket watch and when Dan eventually re-emerged from the showroom, he rode out of the showroom astride what seemed to be some kind of fire-breathing behemoth. The growl from its exhausts was deafening, the headlight pierced the curling mist. And the colour... BROWN?!! Dan pulls up alongside Shirley. She said, ‘What the hell… Oops!’ she quickly corrected herself. 'Can’t use that word up here'. ‘What happened to the two stoke, Dan?’ He replied, ‘It seems MZ have moved on, thank funk! Meet the concept, MZ SFX 1150!’ Dan couldn’t resist a burnout, polluting the pure white mist with the stench of rubber and toxic smoke. With a gigantic smile and an expression of new found enthusiasm he said, ‘What’s the job then?’
To be continued………….. of course
G. Eastwood
Excellent!!