Over a relaxing cup of coffee and a biscuit MbBlenzy outlined his new part in the plan to overthrow the human race. The girl listened intently, she was an excellent listener and had been a runner up two years running in the East Northerton Listening competition.
"...and listen to this!" Blaather added, overconfident now with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth and a drop of coffee dangling tantalizingly close to falling to the floor from his chin. "As a backup Evil Pop has arranged a rigged competition. You've heard of the "Win a Date with Bowie" competition right?"
"Hey! That was rigged?" I entered that damn competition sixty-eight times! Got a damn roomful of Coco-Pops to prove it too!" was the indignant interruption by the girl.
"Anyway...Say can I have some Coco-Pops later?...Anyway, I've been set up as the winner. All I have to do is seduce David and suck the creativity out of him. With my newfound confidence and aura of invincibility it's impossible for me to fail this time. I owe it all to you also." Blaather smiled showing his heartfelt appreciation.
The girl felt a little ill. Things that seemed to have fallen into place had actually fallen all over the place.
Blaather got up and made to leave. His date started in half an hour, and he knew, Bowie being a man of his word, that he would be there at the "Romantic Roomy Restaurant".
There were no guns in the house, and it seemed to matter little anyway. She couldn't kill Blaather, for it was her fault he was the dwarfish man he was right now.
"Have fun!" was all she could think of to say.
"Oh, I will...I will." Were Blaathers parting words as he disappeared out the door.
Reale had stabilized the situation somewhat. He had to be alert for every time he turned his back some more people would climb into the tank and disappear. Coming out of the bathroom he caught a middle aged lady in a yellow floral dress with one leg already over the top.
"Hey! Get out of it! Go on!" He ordered, running at the tank and trying to shoo her out. Too late, she hopped in and was gone. Sgt Yibby was gone also, possibly into the tank.
The lamentable fact was that if the police wanted people to climb into a water tank which contained a mysterious vortex they would have a hard time forcing people in. The moment it becomes "forbidden" everyone can't wait to check it out. It was time for a little reverse psychology.
"Ok everyone! Into the tank!" Reale shouted into Yibby's megaphone which had been lying unattended by the side of the tank.
It didn't work. He only succeeded in causing a stampede of curious onlookers to jump into the tank and disappear. At last count some 258 people had climbed in and left this world.
There was one solution left. A solution that hinged on an idea the policeman had seen in a movie once long ago. He'd need someone brave and/or stupid, plus a roll of twine. Perhaps a television tuned into static would help also. Along with a doughnut. He called in to the station from the station wagon stationed at Station Station, Broogy was still stationed there.
"You want fries with that?" Came Broogy's sarcastic reply after hearing his demands.
Reale considered. "Yes, yes I would like some fries with that, I have a feeling they may come in very handy."
Lennon had fired his gun.
His expectations had not been met however.
Bowie's head did explode. That he did expect. What he hadn't counted on was the bright burst of rainbow colors that emanated from where his head had been. All the colors of the rainbow, and some colors that human eyes had never seen in this universe before. Bright dancing colors of light that swirled and streamed around the place in a wild but coherent way.
Then the sounds, like every sound possible mixed into one in perfect harmony. Yet it was possible to make out every single sound in these trillions of intermixed sounds. A bird chirping, a child laughing, the painful cries of mothers, terrifying screams. All reminding John Lennon of the time he worked on the notorious Experiment IV.
Then came a display that is impossible to describe. Sorry readers.
All of this re-converged into a light that was as white, as bright, as it could possibly be. Like a glimpse into the life after the after-life. It shone for a long time, but was not painful to look at. It did however leave everyone watching (which was everyone there now) with an annoying spot in front of their eyes for ages.
As the light faded, Bowie was again visible. Still whole, head and all.
At first there was silence. Followed by a pattering of applause. Ending in a standing ovation and shouts of "Encore! Encore!"
But what did it mean? There was only one man there who knew what this meant. A man whose underwater bass playing had now well and truly been upstaged. Father McKenzie collapsed to his knees and tried to accept the fact that this was really happening. That he had witnessed, and was in fact in the same room as, hell, in the same universe as, what he had only glimpsed as a prophecy in a state of induced "Mega-Meditation".
One might feel daunted by the term "Mega-Meditation" and think that it is quite difficult to achieve, but this couldn?t be further from the truth. All you needed was a paper clip, some crepe paper, scissors and candle wax.
Now, at this place and time, revealed and announced, was something that had risen into place. His place. David Bowie.
TO BE CONTINUED...
"One of those howling, bleeding nights, dogs plunge into the Volga and swim desperately to the other bank. The nights of Stalingrad are a terror for them. Animals flee this hell; the hardest stone cannot bear it for long; only men endure."