| Mavis and George CHAPTER ONE : 1 It was like finding termites on the brow of Jesus. He fell to his knees, dropping wallpaper on the otherwise pristine fitted carpet; the eyes held their stare as the body crumpled. A shrill old cackle came from the landing, chilling every sound wave it endured. Mavis had arrived. 2 She was tall, scraggy and held a stepladder to one side. The rigid corner dragging shades of dark along the patterns of carpet, a brush held neatly to its side. �Want a hand?� she asked in a voice infected with pleasantry - it was a strain to stop it sagging. Evil was bolted to it like a sidecar. �No� George said dryly, holding up his hands. �I�ve got two already�. 3 Mavis spears a bony finger at George. �Come� she said �I need your soul�. George�s eyes flicker away from their point of fixation. Midway up the wall in the cavity uncovered. They flirt back to it with a solemn stare. His words seemed to plop out of his mouth, breaking through a trance. �Why does God�have pornography?� George wiped a mini turret of sweat gathered on his head. Mavis looks up and sniggers. 4 �It was put there by the last decorators� Mavis explained. �You know�us�. Realisation dawned on George�s face. A smile failed to contain itself. �Stupid bastard ought to do his own wallpapering� Mavis reflected, sloshing more paste over the cracked surface. �Upper classes, eh?� CHAPTER TWO: Later that day was earlier that evening. A mound of confusion arose in George�s brain. How could that be � were the clocks wrong? Someone was lying and it wasn�t him � he was standing up. On some stepladders, loosely supported by the cold, unreliable hands of Mavis. �Mavis - Why do you want my soul?� �I�ve ran out of panini world cup stickers� she grinned broadly. He fell off the steps banging his head, blunting his brain further to a stump. Mavis howled with jagged laughter, cutting through the calm. A chandelier swung with muted violence; a picture seemed to shuffle across the wall to avoid its power. Everything seemed to relax when it receded. George�s arms craned his upper body from the floor. Concern crossed itself on his face and some of the colour melted away. �Souls�but �it�s dangerous! There�s big time collectors�the Devil� God�the Chinese Mafia�� �Are we gonna get this job done tonight?� Mavis snapped �I got the souls to collect�. 2 Sheets of immaculately placed wallpaper spanned before them. It seemed to glow. George nodded to Mavis who grabbed her bag and slid off into the night. CHAPTER THREE: 1 George struggled to find the remote control. It was somewhere, but he couldn�t see a television so it wasn�t worth looking. He struggled to care, so he didn�t even look. One was in his hand, encased in a nugget of hardened paste. He passed some time by admiring the current colour scheme in his flat. �Fine�fine job� he thought slowly. �Should I do it again?� He drifted back to earlier in the day, the brush against the paper�lining up the patterns. Hidden pornography. The daydreaming evaporated into a harsh streak of horror. An air bubble stood bold and true. The family�s rich heritage of decorating skills was under his command, stretching back generations. Handed down from to next - a baton of skill and fiercely guarded secrets. Never had they been so secure before the time of George � he had forgotten them. 2 Mavis collected souls deep into the night. When the long evening settled into morning she had four, which she stuck in a book. None were much good, these people had lost their way in the middle of their lives and were stale and flat like old pop. Taking depressed souls was like stealing decayed currents from the front of a vegetable stall. Vibrant ones were the most prized souls. The people that wanted to live, that were uncrushed by depression. 3 The square blob on the other side of the wall goaded him. Every glance tugged him further towards a pit of despair. He stole a glance every few seconds to confirm what was there. �I�ve wallpapered over the television� he gasped, and a rock hit his inner pride. 4 �Give us your soul!� cried the lumped figured Mavis, her eyes sunken beneath the rim of her hat. �Give us your soul!� Passerbys quickened their pace along the street. �I�ll look after you forever� her voice wavered in unconvincing tones. �Keep and never destroy. There are two paths to eternity, but people die before they get there.� A Doctor lurked nearby, strangely. �You alright?� he asked waving a handsignal behind him. Somewhere nearby, a car engine prowled into action. 5 �I�ve wallpapered the settee as well!� George clutched his head in disbelief. He shook it hard, trying to dislodge his mental agony. A distressed bellow of frustration rose from the chambers of his lungs and was released like a demon into the world. After a series of light, steadying slaps the redecorating started. 6 A shiver of fear struck Mavis� nose, making her brain rattle. Her wolf like eyes widened and fixed on the black car cutting effortlessly through a shoal of pedestrians. In an instant the future uncoiled before her. Her body squeezed aside all reasoning, leaving the solid bones of instinct. All thoughts of souls faded. Her jaw hung open dumbly for a spilt second before closing itself with a soft pop. How had they found her so fast? 7 �That�s better�. George relaxed, his paste splattered clothes sticking to the shabby settee. The television now revealed itself. Sitting proud with the wallpaper behind it. Somehow it looked sad, lifeless. A glossy pane to a dull world. �Aah�it�s off� he concluded, dozily. Now where�s the remote? 8 The car skidded leaving thin rails of rubber across road and pavement. The doors flung open. Three boxy hardened enforcers arose from its inner chamber; evil glares stamped on their faces. Their hands clasped tightly wicked Chinese weapons. Mavis grabbed her small and unpleasant bundle of belongings and pounded towards a back alley. The Doctor made a flying swoop for her leg, whipping through the empty air, clamping on nothing. The fleeing Mavis pants, her body pumping like a rusty steam engine. 9 Hard pockets of wallpaper hung from the ceiling like mutated stalactites. Squinting, he made out the shapes. One was a square oblong, possibly a phone. Another quite clearly a houseplant and yes, as he feared, the remote control. The dull light shone; it was transmitting useless instructions to an obscure corner of the room. He sighed and tried to get up. The seat resisted his movements, clinging to him in a tangle of fibre and wallpaper paste. He was tugged down then gave up the struggle landing clumsily. From somewhere on his body fell an object to the floor; A remote control. 10 �Small time collector� the Doctor assessed �Maybe seven or eight. They�ll be in the bag�. Three hired machines of blood and muscle stride towards the mouth of the alley: the starting line of their hunt for the fleeing prey. 11 Mavis lobbed her bag of souls over the garden fence; her head snatched a view at the ferocious waddling of her pursuers, locking on them longer than intended. Now bearing towards her, plump machines of death. The fence bent as she forced herself over, dropping heavily to the other side. 12 George was confused. He gazed through the thinly masked minefield of objects in the ceiling. His old remote still blinked. The houseplant seemed to sigh and the phone rang hollow, distant tones in his imagination. He picked up the foreign object. The workings of his brain twitched and strained, resisted, then cracked, like putting pressure on twigs. �I must have picked it up from God�s house� the thought composed itself then drifted away. Blankness as the next shades of thinking formed, grey at first, then blunt focus. �It must be his remote control�. He turned it over slowly and lines of realisation drew themselves on his face. �My God�he�s�got cable� CHAPTER FOUR 1 �Nice wallpapering� God commented, passing through the rooms of his house. �What was his name again? George? Well...I�ll see to him, maybe he�ll die just a couple of yards away from eternity, the others will be miles away�apart from the girl who did the kitchen�nice job�. �God�do you exist?.�no offence, but you just seem like a whacko� said the bravest butler in the world. �er�you�re fired� said his boss �Righto� said the butler, before realising what this meant ��shit� �Oh erm�before you go� God continued �you haven�t seen the remote have you?� The former butler shrugs unprofessionally, loosening his tie. His voice now gruff and unpolished. �The one for the stereo or the other�key to eternity thing?� �Not the stereo�the other one� God gazed around the room. �You were daft making it into a remote. Why�d you do that - Wacko?� God huffed. �Can�t be arsed to go all the way to the set� he said, truthfully. The former butler clomped towards the exit. He halted as a thought struck him. �er can I have my soul back?� �No�I collect them� said the wacko. �Fine� he sarcasted �I�m sure I�ll find another one� 2 �You gotto help me� Mavis flustered �there�s three men�I think they want my souls� The stranger stopped calmly. His head jerked back. Green puke overflowed from his mouth, dripping from his body like snotty lava. His face crumpled and stretched, the features distorting in a twist of melting skin. Clothes tore, skin buckled and broke, hanged off the body like worn rags. Two short horns broke through the summit the hat and a new creature stood boldly in a pool of frothy blood. Mavis shook with fear. The fire-glazed eyes of the devil confronted her. �No�don�t take my souls!� she unleashed a venomous shriek. �Souls? I�m bored of them� he shrugged �I�ve started to collect panini stickers� 3 George�s could see further than the eye of the sun. The galaxy stretched before him, a lush blanket of woven stars. The depths of Gods inner thoughts lay unravelled, in it, the corridors leading to eternity. �This is dull� he thought, then watched The Bill on UK Gold. 4 The devil�s ears pricked. �There�s an opening, one, which God himself must have charged. I will take you to the place beyond death. The fee is your soul �actually� don't know if it is anymore�� �How about�mexico 86 and football 88?� Mavis bargained. �They�re mint.� The devil tossed the offer around the chambers of his brain. �They complete?� he asked. �As complete as the self made tyranny mankind hangs itself from�� Mavis assured �honest�they�ve got the reflective team stickers and everything� �Then �tis done� the devil retorted. �But if Peter Shilton isn�t in the Mexico 86 album I�ll be annoyed� He shot a firey glance. Mavis froze in terror. Then he broke a wild smile that was just as terrifying. �Now�to your friend. And the mysteries that await.� He stepped out of the sludge of his former body. �I�ll clear this up afterwards�. 5 �The gate� the Doctor called �use the gate!� The mounds of Mafia flab turned around, amazed of this lightening bolt of wisdom. The gate swung open, the chase was on. 6 They couldn�t fit through, pretty soon it was called off. �You�re shit, aren�t you?� Doctor assessed �Complete bollocks�. CHAPTER FIVE 1 Sunhill. PC Garfield is in a conversation with DI Woods in some fictional, television universe. �They never talk about wallpapering� George thought. A knock, a phone fell from the ceiling. George winced at the hole it tore away and waded towards the door, side-stepping the drop zones of the obstacles that hung above. He got to the door. The other side was a hounding sight. He hadn�t painted it in years, being an interior decorator. Another knock; the houseplant crashed to the carpet. He�d better open the door before the phone rang and he had to answer it. 2 The devil weaved them through tight corridors. Charred skeletons lay like little lumps in the corners of the maze set by God. The remote carved passageways through walls, it�s forcefield dumbed traps and it pointed the right way at the T-junction. From the brink of the abyss they stared into eternity. 3 �Shit� said God �I�ve lost the stereo remote as well!� 4 The light poured into their minds. It burrowed deeper, burning new channels, mining further into the unknown potential of their bodies. Greedily swarming towards the central point, injecting docile with genius. The Devil�s clicked his fingers and they turned, blackness followed. After glinting at such life, it was as if the blanket of death had fallen. At first Mavis thought she was dead, but then she realised he just wanted the sticker albums. Soon it was done. At the sight of Shilton the devil stepped back in awe, then departed. Mavis and George looked again into the swirling mists where a deftly harmonic tone was mixed with the distant, echoing theme tune of the Bill. They stepped forward into the depths where many could exist forever. 5 �This is boring� said George �let�s go back�. |