Tales from Leprechaunia 69
Hitch-hikers
When the hansom cab driven by Giovanni MacO'roni trundled out of muddy Bogmania, Isabella O'Mafiosa and Jezebel O'Legless-O'Corkless sat within the cabriolet built for two. They waved to the former Reverend Eoin Parsley, now the Chief Druid of the Royal Order of the Druids, as he busied himself in trying to build a stone circle in the middle of the River Bog. When he waved back, the slippery stone that required two hands to lift made a bid for freedom and fell from his grasp to make a heavy statement on his foot. The heart-felt shout from the lips of the Chief Druid was an obscenity that would never have escaped the mouth of the Reverend Parsley in his sermons to his dozing flock. But then, that previous incarnation would never have been so stupid as to build stone circles in a river.
Be that as it may, the sight of Chief Druid Parsley swearing as he danced on one foot in the river soon slipped from the view of the two ladies laughing in the cabriolet. Jezebel, as a happily divorced woman of the world, had made the executive decision to accompany Isabella to the distant town of Broken Harp in County Cork. Jezebel had in mind to join some exotic pole dancer by name of Sister Minty who strutted her stuff in cat house by the name of Wholly Order of Leprechauns that catered wholly to the depraved orders of unfrocked brothers and monks who'd fallen on hard times. Or so Jezebel had heard from Isabella. If true, Jezebel intended give Sister Minty a helping hand in righteous heavenly strutting of stuff for appreciative clergy who were out of their frocks and in the legless, horizontal position. Doing so beat the hell out of swimming to passing troopship; and it might even prove to be as elevating as stowing away on the occasional passing aircraft carrier. Or so she hoped.
Like Jezebel, Isabella had previously packed fishnet stockings, black bra and flimsy nun's habit, with the latter garment bought by each lady in the Muddy Splatters op shop in Bogmania. Obviously, great frustrated minds thought alike! All of which was totally unknown to Giovanni sitting on the driver's seat. He was lost in daydreaming about the Born-again Hit Man Funeral Services Blessed by God corporation that he intended to launch - doing so because an invisible hand from behind an invisible burning bush in the Bogmania graveyard had whacked him on the head with a tablet of stone. That very tablet had engraved upon it: Thou shalt become a funeral director! And born-again dreams of money and redemption were made of heady stuff such as this.
So it was that the hansom cab almost ran over two dusty figures standing on the edge of a sharp corner in the road. Their tattered garb proclaimed they were members of the cloth who were down on their luck. The man introduced himself as Father Swami, whereas his voluptuous companion said she was Sister Rose. She had the .8 calibre figure that a born-again hit man such as Giovanni MacO'roni dreamed of as being his devoted cartridge loader. But Sister Rose clutched a petrified crystal ball, and Giovanni drew the line at that. The road to perdition was hard enough without the penance of a zonked-out crystal ball!
However, the two belles inside the cab invited Rose to join them. And as the slow journey continued on from there, Sister Rose shared the sorry tale of her rise and fall as Gypsy-Rose O'Leprechaun. Father Swami had no option but to squeeze beside Giovanni and, as the miles rolled under the wheels, the born-again priest confessed his life as Swami O'Leprechaun. Confessed to the number one hit man of the Leprechaun Mafia about being a no-good card sharp who dealt from the bottom of the deck. Successfully so until he'd met a feathered and painted dude by name of Hi-ya-watha, whose razor sharp tomahawk had petrified Sister Rose's crystal ball, keeping the damned thing silent about the full house in Hi-ya-watha's hand that then won everything in the all-or-nothing wager.
As silent as Giovanni's tongue was now about recognizing Father Swami. He knew that the priest was a conman by name of Finbar O'Gizmo whose sweet nothings had induced many a lady widow to part with her life savings before being left waiting alone and sobbing at the altar for a wolf who never came to share wedded bliss. However, being a born-again hit man, Giovanni had to allow that Finbar just might be a born-again swami ... but one who'd have to be watched and, if necessary, whacked with a .45 calibre spaghetti! Yet if Father Swami's deck was not crooked but on the level, he might be useful to employ as the advertising agent and press release writer for the Born-again Hit Man Funeral Services Blessed by God corporation. And Sister Rose with the .8 calibre figure could be hired - if her petrified crystal ball got a life and cleared - as the accountant responsible for the forward projections of the business plan.
Such was never destined to be. For Sister Rose sat licking her lips as the ravishing but ravishment deprived Isabella shared the news about a Sister Minty pole dancing in the choir loft of a cat house for discerning unfrocked members of the cloth. Unfrocked members who wanted to be far more than merely brotherly and monkish - who wanted to be really exotic with strutting pole dancers. And as Sister Rose sat with her tongue hanging out while Jezebel told heady tales of swimming out to troopships and aircraft carriers, the crystal ball suddenly cleared. It showed four nuns in flimsy habits pole dancing for unfrocked army chaplains on a troopship; and then dancing for equally unfrocked navy chaplains in a hot-air balloon lifting off from an aircraft carrier.
But, of course, Sister Rose knew that the crystal ball had suffered one nervous breakdown too many and now was seldom right. However, what the crystal ball had just revealed might portend something far better than hitch-hiking in the dreary wastes of the Corkless Counties. Time would tell!
See also
Tales from Leprechaunia - series 1
05 Widow Weeds
09 On the Wagon
Leprechaunia the Brave - Lyrics
Leprechaunia the Brave - Lyrics (re-posted for St Patrick's Day 2009.)
Tales from Leprechaunia - series 2
17 A Werewolf-Vampire by Any Other Name
20 Serendipity
The Leprechaun Stood on the Burning Deck - Lyrics
Tales from Leprechaunia - series 3
22 The Three Wise Homeless Leprechauns
23 The Three Wise Mummy Leprechauns
24 The Three Wise Nun Leprechauns
25 The Three Wise Hari Krishna Leprechauns
26 The Three Wise Buddhist Leprechauns
27 The Three Wise Pilgrim Leprechauns
28 The Three Wise Unemployed Leprechauns
29 The Three Wise Academic Leprechauns
30 The Three Wise Associate Professor Leprechauns
Leprechaunia the Olde - lyrics
Tales from Leprechaunia - series 4
32 First Casualties of the Second Vegemite War
33 The Battle at The Slumped Leprechaun
35 The Victorious Vegemite War
36 The First Goodwill Expedition
39 The Last Post for the Fallen
40 Blessings
Tales from Leprechaunia - series 5
43 Sister Minty
45 Fellow Travelers on the Road
48 Plotters and the Sergeant of Police
Tales from Leprechaunia - series 6
51 The Royal World Mud Wrestling Championship
54 Captain Pegleg Sook & Spotted Dick
56 The O'Mohican-Leprechaunia Nation
57 The United States of Leprechauna: a Potted History
Tales from Leprechaunia - series 7
65 The Holy Association of Hit Men
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Comments: 65
That Isabel, Jezebel, Sister Rose and all that pole dancing and defrocked ones!!!!
Featured in the Triple Name Club.
Kathryn, send the pair of them to the Wholly Order of Leprechauns ... Mother Molly will take just about anyone.
Writing does that, I've noticed, Kathryn.
Amazing.
http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977750203
reclaiming life
As always, Kushal, you are on the money! Of the three, Time Out is my favourite.
Once again, the Catholic Church takes it on the chin! (The "petrified" crystal ball is a nice touch as well).
Thank you for posting to The Surreal Circus.
Today, as I was reading, I was actually thinking about the author (you) and wondering where this all comes from..........hmmm.............especially the repeating image of fishnet stockings and pole dancing (smile).
All of this comes from a mind befuddled by high kicking banana smoothies in fishnet stockings - shaken but not stirred!
Your tale is the icing on my Saturday cake!
So good to see you again and laugh with you, my dear friend.
And it was good to catch up and laugh together.
I bow to you.
I especially liked the .8 caliber figure. You are so clever!
And thank you very much.
Actually, I'm about to fall asleep. I shall read soon.
Jezebel intended give Sister Minty a helping hand ..., sounds like ladies who wanted to be handy and not get wet. Should help the priests get up even in a horizontal position.
Sorry, but I don't get the crystal ball reference.
Hit man business plan??? LOL.
Sister Rose's tongue hanging out eh, and I thought she only used her hands.
Hi-ya-watha's razor sharp tomahawk had petrified Sister Rose's crystal ball, keeping the damned thing silent about the full house in Hi-ya-watha's hand ... the poor crystal ball had suffered a nervous breakdown. And Hi-ya-watha won everything.
Sister Rose will use anything!
And thank you very much.