"Stand there Mister Thurgood and divna' move" Peggy Powler snarled without looking at the destination of her instruct,
the bloodied shape slumped near the altar moved slightly during their admission from Father Martin's private room as
the anxious retiree followed the little Witch's guidance. It was the Wulpos unashamedly wearing the garment Arthur
and his fellow-inhabitants of Willowsgate would pray and sing along with when the days came to a close.
It was a devious spiteful demon coated in the clawed puppet who was too weak to resist the power such malevolent
supernatural entities offer and had fallen for the ruse that they would somehow be the dominant one in the partnership.
However, what true intellectual capacity of Theodore Martin remained inside the naked human getting to his feet, the
vigilant sorceress couldn't tell.
"Ah... so you're the ignoble floozy that got the priest so discombobulated" the demon's split-lips spat and forcing the
preacher's face to display a terrible grin, he bowed slightly in a most blasphemous form of mocking. The Last Witch
of Underhill returned the smile and whispered over her shoulder to her trembling partner "Yer' knaw' me-lad, Ah'm
ganna' enjoy tekin' this one out".
Totally unrepentant of its nudity, the Wulpos urged Theodore's form to parade in front of the clothed-table where he
would normally give praise of the new-religion, but for a moment, Peggy saw the clergyman's eyes glance towards
her with a pleading look-see. "It must be difficult for you to endeavour in an environment where your superiors look
upon you with disdain, does it not?..." the thing asked as it sprawled across the altar in a provocative pose.
Father Martin was now laid facing the two people who had tracked the killer of two youngsters and cattle. "...Please
-my good strumpet, beguile me with your cretinous acumen" the Wulpos added as it propped the pastor's head up
with his blood-stained arm. With a slow overemphasised movement of her finger to her lips, Peggy looked upwards
and gave the impression a dull plebeian was attempting to offer something that may interest somebody better than
herself.
"Hmmm, Ah' was just wonderin'..." she phrased her words carefully to taunt the bare-skinned demon waiting on the
wooden bench of appeal, "...when yer' were watchin' the young uns' kissin' in the cowshed, did yer' get too excited
before yer' finished writin' yer' name?" The flinch wasn't much but it happened before the Wulpos had chance to stop
it, but it managed to gathered itself before speaking again. "Very good my dear fallen woman and did that moniker
make your little head hurt?" it mewled and raised Father Martin's eyebrows in faux-curiosity.
Growing a little agitated with the question-orientated prattle and the sight of a naked man on a cold day, the little
sorceress mused if she should bring to their palaver to a close. There was always treasure to mine when dealing
with those who are from the other side, but the sorry-sight of a human being degraded in this manner was already
placing a thumb on her scales of deliberation. "Aye, yer combined one of yer' hex-marks with the parson's initial..."
Peggy replied effortlessly "...every bugger guessed that one".
Taking out the book she'd found in Father Martin's trunk, Peggy's eyes joined in with the theatre and widened above
her taunting smile. "Whey Ah'll be buggered, what 'ave we here?" she hissed coyly and licked her index-finger as she
readied herself to flick through the pages. The Wulpos' demeanour suddenly changed as it recognised the old tome.
Nodding in her charade of reading, the bantam-sized thaumaturge watched from the corner of her eye as poor Father
Martin's tortured body was hauled-up to his full height. "If you struggle with -what your type of people call 'big words',
please allow me to assist you" the Wulpos sarcastically offered and audaciously winked towards Arthur. But what
confidence the hellion had first shown, Peggy could hear was severely degraded.
"Nay me-auld cock, Ah'm sure Ah' can manage" she murmured absently and keeping her face towards the profane
wording, Peggy mouthed-spell to ensure the devious Wulpos wouldn't rush to her and grab at the book written by
Whitby Kipper. The demon felt the change around it, but with a survey towards its audience, the preacher's eyes
publicised its confusion. "My-my..." it whispered in defence, "...your bawdy allocution is becoming quite alluring
as time goes by" and that was when the target of his innuendo brought an end to any of the Wulpos' further acts.
It was the sight of the jar, you see? That and the sudden tug of a hidden force pulling the unexpecting Wulpos as
Peggy Powler shoved the offensive book titled 'The Worship of Sun-Lizards & Other Gods' under her arm. With a
friendly wave of the same finger to request the startled retired saw-mill owner to walk ahead of her, the grinning
spell-worker headed for the exit with a demon in tow.
.................................................................
Arthur Thurgood was still out of breath when he returned from the chapel with Father Martin's cassock and a stout
pair of boots. By then, Judge Stoddard had arrived and was busy adding more fuel to the bonfire beneath the large
elm tree in the corner of the graveyard. Arthur was surprised of the spryness of the gent who'd once hanged ten
men in one day with his past jurisdictional reasoning and there was a slight admiration in the way he cleaved the
branches with the axe he'd brought.
Peggy would occasionally wave her hands over the roaring flames and mutter words Arthur believed he could never
pronounce in his lifetime. The book was nothing but ash and the glass container was in pieces with its contents
glowing a strange eldritch green. Arthur had once seen a midwife deliver a baby in the saw-mill he'd first started
at and the little woman standing on the other side of the smoky pyre held the same face of stern concentration.
"I would've never believed it..." Ben Stoddard said in his toil and broke Arthur's engrossment. "...But how did you
know the fiend was hiding in the church and in..." he stopped his words then as he saw the bewildered look on
the man who'd been taken by demon from ages ago and now free from its dominion. Father Martin's tear-filled
eyes met the Judge's and an understanding passed between them. "Fair travels Pastor" Ben said softly as the
objective of his greeting finished buttoning his religious tunic.
.................................................................
Epilogue.
With Elsa Thurgood's huge package of food stuffed into her satchel and her shoulders sore from the cordial fondles
of the few from Willowsgate who would lower themselves to commend the little sorceress for her supernatural work,
Peggy Powler followed the tall manicured hedges of Hornbeam that would guide her out of Willowsgate and onto
Calder's Way.
She was on her way now and happy to be away from the camarilla community of the well-spoken. Not because the
villagers were -as the Wulpos had proposed, better than herself, but simply by virtue of her need to wander. There
will always be metaphysical and the human with tricks to tempt a train of thought or suggest sensibilities to adjust
one's belief in where they fit into the world, but such subterfuge is wasted when pushed to someone who walks
between these realms.
Placing an unshod foot onto her favourite highway, Peggy could only think of one who's cloth was cut that way and
if memory serves, she was from Underhill.
The End.
the bloodied shape slumped near the altar moved slightly during their admission from Father Martin's private room as
the anxious retiree followed the little Witch's guidance. It was the Wulpos unashamedly wearing the garment Arthur
and his fellow-inhabitants of Willowsgate would pray and sing along with when the days came to a close.
It was a devious spiteful demon coated in the clawed puppet who was too weak to resist the power such malevolent
supernatural entities offer and had fallen for the ruse that they would somehow be the dominant one in the partnership.
However, what true intellectual capacity of Theodore Martin remained inside the naked human getting to his feet, the
vigilant sorceress couldn't tell.
"Ah... so you're the ignoble floozy that got the priest so discombobulated" the demon's split-lips spat and forcing the
preacher's face to display a terrible grin, he bowed slightly in a most blasphemous form of mocking. The Last Witch
of Underhill returned the smile and whispered over her shoulder to her trembling partner "Yer' knaw' me-lad, Ah'm
ganna' enjoy tekin' this one out".
Totally unrepentant of its nudity, the Wulpos urged Theodore's form to parade in front of the clothed-table where he
would normally give praise of the new-religion, but for a moment, Peggy saw the clergyman's eyes glance towards
her with a pleading look-see. "It must be difficult for you to endeavour in an environment where your superiors look
upon you with disdain, does it not?..." the thing asked as it sprawled across the altar in a provocative pose.
Father Martin was now laid facing the two people who had tracked the killer of two youngsters and cattle. "...Please
-my good strumpet, beguile me with your cretinous acumen" the Wulpos added as it propped the pastor's head up
with his blood-stained arm. With a slow overemphasised movement of her finger to her lips, Peggy looked upwards
and gave the impression a dull plebeian was attempting to offer something that may interest somebody better than
herself.
"Hmmm, Ah' was just wonderin'..." she phrased her words carefully to taunt the bare-skinned demon waiting on the
wooden bench of appeal, "...when yer' were watchin' the young uns' kissin' in the cowshed, did yer' get too excited
before yer' finished writin' yer' name?" The flinch wasn't much but it happened before the Wulpos had chance to stop
it, but it managed to gathered itself before speaking again. "Very good my dear fallen woman and did that moniker
make your little head hurt?" it mewled and raised Father Martin's eyebrows in faux-curiosity.
Growing a little agitated with the question-orientated prattle and the sight of a naked man on a cold day, the little
sorceress mused if she should bring to their palaver to a close. There was always treasure to mine when dealing
with those who are from the other side, but the sorry-sight of a human being degraded in this manner was already
placing a thumb on her scales of deliberation. "Aye, yer combined one of yer' hex-marks with the parson's initial..."
Peggy replied effortlessly "...every bugger guessed that one".
Taking out the book she'd found in Father Martin's trunk, Peggy's eyes joined in with the theatre and widened above
her taunting smile. "Whey Ah'll be buggered, what 'ave we here?" she hissed coyly and licked her index-finger as she
readied herself to flick through the pages. The Wulpos' demeanour suddenly changed as it recognised the old tome.
Nodding in her charade of reading, the bantam-sized thaumaturge watched from the corner of her eye as poor Father
Martin's tortured body was hauled-up to his full height. "If you struggle with -what your type of people call 'big words',
please allow me to assist you" the Wulpos sarcastically offered and audaciously winked towards Arthur. But what
confidence the hellion had first shown, Peggy could hear was severely degraded.
"Nay me-auld cock, Ah'm sure Ah' can manage" she murmured absently and keeping her face towards the profane
wording, Peggy mouthed-spell to ensure the devious Wulpos wouldn't rush to her and grab at the book written by
Whitby Kipper. The demon felt the change around it, but with a survey towards its audience, the preacher's eyes
publicised its confusion. "My-my..." it whispered in defence, "...your bawdy allocution is becoming quite alluring
as time goes by" and that was when the target of his innuendo brought an end to any of the Wulpos' further acts.
It was the sight of the jar, you see? That and the sudden tug of a hidden force pulling the unexpecting Wulpos as
Peggy Powler shoved the offensive book titled 'The Worship of Sun-Lizards & Other Gods' under her arm. With a
friendly wave of the same finger to request the startled retired saw-mill owner to walk ahead of her, the grinning
spell-worker headed for the exit with a demon in tow.
.................................................................
Arthur Thurgood was still out of breath when he returned from the chapel with Father Martin's cassock and a stout
pair of boots. By then, Judge Stoddard had arrived and was busy adding more fuel to the bonfire beneath the large
elm tree in the corner of the graveyard. Arthur was surprised of the spryness of the gent who'd once hanged ten
men in one day with his past jurisdictional reasoning and there was a slight admiration in the way he cleaved the
branches with the axe he'd brought.
Peggy would occasionally wave her hands over the roaring flames and mutter words Arthur believed he could never
pronounce in his lifetime. The book was nothing but ash and the glass container was in pieces with its contents
glowing a strange eldritch green. Arthur had once seen a midwife deliver a baby in the saw-mill he'd first started
at and the little woman standing on the other side of the smoky pyre held the same face of stern concentration.
"I would've never believed it..." Ben Stoddard said in his toil and broke Arthur's engrossment. "...But how did you
know the fiend was hiding in the church and in..." he stopped his words then as he saw the bewildered look on
the man who'd been taken by demon from ages ago and now free from its dominion. Father Martin's tear-filled
eyes met the Judge's and an understanding passed between them. "Fair travels Pastor" Ben said softly as the
objective of his greeting finished buttoning his religious tunic.
.................................................................
Epilogue.
With Elsa Thurgood's huge package of food stuffed into her satchel and her shoulders sore from the cordial fondles
of the few from Willowsgate who would lower themselves to commend the little sorceress for her supernatural work,
Peggy Powler followed the tall manicured hedges of Hornbeam that would guide her out of Willowsgate and onto
Calder's Way.
She was on her way now and happy to be away from the camarilla community of the well-spoken. Not because the
villagers were -as the Wulpos had proposed, better than herself, but simply by virtue of her need to wander. There
will always be metaphysical and the human with tricks to tempt a train of thought or suggest sensibilities to adjust
one's belief in where they fit into the world, but such subterfuge is wasted when pushed to someone who walks
between these realms.
Placing an unshod foot onto her favourite highway, Peggy could only think of one who's cloth was cut that way and
if memory serves, she was from Underhill.
The End.
Read The TV Guide, yer' don't need a TV.