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Date Posted: 04:34:34 09/05/14 Fri
Author: Christopher Antony Meade (Laughing a lot)
Subject: HIGH JINKS IN HEAVEN
The weekend in St. Bart's turned out to be pretty lively. I couldn’t believe my luck. To be invited to a party, on my first weekend in Heaven, was a very pleasant surprise. I had been expecting that all the saints would be “Holy Joes” and that I would be drafted into some heavenly choir, to sing endless verses of “He’s got the whole world in his hand” or, even worse, “Lord of the dance”. Not my idea of heavenly bliss at all. It turned out that the whole heavenly set-up was totally different from what I had expected. I got the first inkling of this when I noticed that St Peter was dancing and cracking jokes at the gate. He even gave me a great wink, when he put a great red ticket in my hand.
“Whatever you do” the Prince of the Apostles said, “don’t miss St Bartholomew’s party. All the saints will be there and it’s a great place to break the ice, especially if you are a newbie. St Francis was saying that Jesus might even drop in for a while. Mind you He would never miss a good party.”
So what could I do? I’d been killed in a car crash and I really wanted to just put my feet up for a few thousand years, rather than party all weekend. But I wasn’t going to fall out with the Heavenly Gatekeeper, by refusing the invitation. Better to get off on the right foot. So I said I would be delighted to go to St Bart’s party. It might be fun anyway.
A rather fussy little angel showed me to my mansion. Angels are not allowed to party apparently and this one was quite sniffy with me when I showed him the ticket.
“Typical saints” he said. “They just can’t stay quiet for a moment. We’re expected to spend millennia singing “Hallejuhah” and running messages and they get all the fun. Don’t get sick on the carpet. I’m the mug that will have to clean it up.”
The mansion turned out to be really special. There were about seven rooms in it and apparently, I had only to wish for something and it miraculously appeared. The angel was just being awkward. Even if I did get sick, I only had to think about cleaning and a bucket and mop would appear and get rid of the mess, without me having to lift a finger.
So when “grumpy wings” had departed and I found myself alone, the first thing I did was to wish for a pair of expensive Adidas trainers, with matching tracksuit; as well as two bottles of the finest “Dom Perignon”. My delight was complete, when they materialised on my four-poster bed.
I only had to follow all the laughing saints to find St Bartholomew’s mansion. St Catherine was trundling an enormous wheel and St Francis was being followed by hundreds of birds. All the various saints seemed to be accompanied by something emblematic from their lives. St Mark was riding on the most enormous lion and St Stephen was having a great time, throwing stones at statues of Pharisees. I could see this was going to be a wild weekend and I was going to have an absolutely “HEAVENLY” time.
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