Sophie re-materialized her head. "Talk about getting blasted!" She looked in the window of a parked Cadillac. "Was I a blonde before?"   Green Sun Chapter 15 Mattress Time by Donna Lamb

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Rodney materialized in the Department of Recruitment, Discipline, Promotions and Relegations in the Seventh Assize of the Eighty-Seventh Prefect of the Ninth District of the Third Terrestrial Heaven, North West Province, standing in front of a Ministering Angel First Class by the name of Samuelson who smiled thinly at Rodney and said, "All requests for resignation, promotion, discipline or relegation must be accompanied by a Form 32A-stroke-4786-dash-6,435,269,801 but we don't have any of those so you'll just have to fill out one of these Form 32A-stroke-4786-dash-6,435,269,800s and where it says 'Auto-immolation' cross it out and hand write in 'Resignation' then initial it, get your Supervising Angel to initial your initials then both of you sign all six pages and have it back to me not before next Whitsunday."

* * *

"They're stalling," the air where Sophie Drake's head used to be fumed.

"It's only been a few split eternities," said Bill C. Bubb from the face in his armpit.

Sophie re-materialized her head. "Whoo! See what you mean, talk about getting blasted!" She shook her body all over then looked in the window of a parked Cadillac. "Was I a blonde before?"

"Lady," said Bill seriously, "you probably invented blondes. How do I look?" He had regrown a head -- without a face.

"Something's missing," said Sophie.

"Well, you wouldn't want me to be two-faced, would you?" He laughed from down near his elbow. "How can you tell they're stalling?"

Sophie shrugged. "I would."

"Yeah, but they're the good guys."

She snorted. "Yeah, so? All that means is they cheat on the square -- like following the rules they choose to follow."

"You going to do anything about it?" Bill asked.

"Probably, it's just past noon, I've got time to think of several nasty things."

* * *

When Davy changed buses, Bo Lim'nhee got caught reading the latest issue of Gray Hulk over the shoulder of a boy sitting further back in the bus. Gray Hulk was a particular favorite of Bo's because he was big, smart, kicked ass and, best of all, was gray. But by the time the little alien angel noticed Davy moving, the mini-skirted boy had nearly descended the bus steps. Bo had to hurry.

When he reached the door of the bus Davy was changing to, Bo realized he didn't have a transfer in hand nor 75 cents. He hesitated before remembering that as an angel, he didn't have to pay bus fares. The door almost closed on his non-existent nose, the bus rumbled ahead and Bo did the only thing he could think of--he jumped on the bike rack at the back and yelled, "Stas' leren! Ez'ka floo!" to which he added, "Whee!"

They hadn't gone more than three blocks before a small yellow-skinned demon with spiky hair on a flying skateboard snatched Bo off the back of the bike rack and threw him under the wheels of a cement truck. "Marbant strikes!" cackled the little yellow demon. Then he said, "Oh, man! Rats!" as a second bus following the first ran over him causing his little yellow demon skull to explode.

* * *

Just as Larry the Wolf reached Coffeeville, a Hellbat came up over the horizon. "Aw, craps!" said Larry. He took evasive action but the hypnotic rays of the Hellbat sapped his speed and somewhere in the sage and scrub at the foot of the Rockies, the big purple Decepticon winged him with a blast. As Larry spun into a hillside, he put in a call to Angel Central. "It's a hit!" he told Dispatch. "I'm hit! Go to the mattresses. The B.A.D.* wants a war!" *Bitch of Air and Darkness.

After landing and plowing a few arid acres with his face, he took out his custom pool cue and quickly assembled it. Just as the Hellbat came over the horizon to see if he'd been forced to discorporate and retreat to Heaven, Larry played the nine-boulder in a carom off the mountain and clipped the Transformers head, causing it to explode. "Screwball in the corner pocket," he said in satisfaction.

* * *

Richard sat at the electric piano and pounded out a honky tonk rhythm, then blended into a set of bluesy chords and turned it into a nearly stacatto rock ballad. He sang, powering on the backbeat and gilding the blue notes at the end of the second and fourth line:

"I don't tell secrets, I don't make promises,
Let love gone astray linger and die.
Don't look for secrets, Don't ask for promises,
And you know I won't need to lie."

"How's that?" he asked.

Jo sat on the bench behind him, guitar in her lap. "Better than mine, f'shure. What was that transition chord? A7?"

Richard played the riff again. "Yeah, A7. Damn, I'm brilliant." He grinned at her.

She giggled and bent around to kiss him. "We like you to think so. Keeps you fat and happy."

He laughed. They played through a verse and the new chorus, including the honky-tonk bridge and tricky key change a couple of times. Jo made some notes. "Think you could still sing it if we transpose down a third?"

Richard considered. "I guess so. My range has improved and I've got better control down low than I used to. In the studio, sure. On stage, depends what else we're doing. Thought you were going to sing this one?"

She shook her head. "Changed my mind. It's perfect for you and you need another song if we're going to do a new album this winter." He opened his mouth but she went on, "You fixed the lyric and you're right, that bridge is brilliant. You can sing the devil out of that tune, Richard."

Richard smiled at her. "Well," he said, "let's hope so." He tinkled the keys one handed, the melody line of Lonesome Shoes.

"I know so," she said before putting the guitar down and kissing him again.

* * *

Rodney finally caught up with Ted o'Mersey at the Heavenly Cantina. Ted grinned at him, shaking his head. "Kind of took things ino your own hands, corporal, didn't you?"

"Yes, sir," said Rodney.

"Sit," Ted ordered, pushing one of the wire-framed chairs out of the cumulus for him. "Want half of my ham and cheese?"

"Thank you, sir," said Rodney, taking the seat.

"Betty!" Ted called. A stunningly pretty blonde appeared. "Couple of brews here -- lager, Rod?" The soldier nodded. "And another best ale for me," said Ted. He pulled the sandwich in two and gave half to Rodney while Betty fetched the mugs of ale and beer, almost ice cold for Rodney's lager and cellar cool for Ted's ale. She winked at Rodney as she set the glass down then sashayed off among the drifting clouds.

They chewed and drank happily for a moment then Rodney remembered the paperwork he'd brought. "I came to resign, sir. You know that?"

"Sure," said Ted. "These little sour yellow peppers are sure good, aren't they?"

Rodney nodded. "I think they're Italian, I first had them back in Philly."

"Good," said Ted. They ate and sipped their beers; contentment comes in pints, as they say in Heaven.

"Bit o' fruit ice would go, woonit?" said Ted. "No use getting piggy, though. Eternity is another day."

"About my resignation," began Rodney.

"Denied," said Ted. "Can't very well accept your resignation right after we promote you to Angel Second Class, can we? Betty? Check, please."

When the pretty angel rang up the sale, Rodney's first set of wings appeared on his back with a distinct ringing echo.

Ted laughed at the brave Buffalo Soldier's expression. "Ought to see your face, mate. Priceless."

* * *

Back on the road again, this time in leathers on Harleys, Sophie turned to Bill and snarled, "We'll just see about that!" She wore red and her sidekick wore black. They roared up 111, cruised Indian Canyon Drive (almost deserted in late July), got on the freeway at White Water and headed toward Los Angeles.

Bill's helmet concealed his head's lack of a face. He shouted from under his arm, "Ain't the guy you want back the other way?"

Sophie made a face which could be clearly seen since she wore a pseudo-Nazi brain-bucket-style helmet. "More mischief available in a big city. We'll keep an eye on the bimbo, but the City of Angels is where we can put the most hurt on those heavenly busybodies, the clarences."

continued...