My Writing Process, author blog tour.

My Writing Process - Blog Tour.
Well here goes nothing then; Rob Bayliss tagged me in this author blog tour where we all talk about our different writing styles. Rob is the author of The Sun Shard novel and is currently working on the follow up Flint and Steel, Fire and Shadow. (The Sun Shard is available from Amazon so go find it and check it out.) Now while as many of you know I’m not really an author but a story teller it seems I’ve still not been found out yet and kicked out of the author lounge. To read Robs blog on his writing process just follow this link –
http://sunshard.blogspot.co.uk/2014/03/my-writing-process-blog-tour.html?spref=fb


So let’s get down to the questions and see if I can give you some answers that make at least a little sense.

1. What am I working on?
At the moment I’m struggling with two stories and working on whichever I seem to be getting the ideas for. The first one is another story based around my John the Barman short story. This is a mysterious owner of a bar where gods and all sorts of supernatural creatures go to unwind after a hard day doing their job. It fills in the blanks of what these creatures really do and think about and the day to day trials of their lives. In the second story Lucifer, Death and a group of the customers decide they need a holiday to escape the stress of work. What follows is a no experience spared ‘lads’ package holiday which includes them coping with budget airlines and ensuring you get a sun lounger by the pool. Sunburn and drunken nights abound as the group experience their first holiday ever.
The second work in progress is the ever so slightly later than promised Third Book in the Alienbutt Saga. This comedy space opera sees the hero, Piestoff Alienbutt left leading the Ick and rebels of the Outer Systems after the bloody rise of the evil Mr Fluffy. With the universe in tatters and the heart of the Federation and Coffee Houses ripped apart old enemies must form an uneasy alliance to combat the diabolical Mr Fluffy as he tightens his grip on his new universal empire. With Fate and Destiny left wondering what went wrong can Alienbutt still be the saviour of the Ick Empire or will the universe fall to utter ruin?

How does my work differ from others of its genre?

With my stories I try to take a totally ridiculous idea and turn it into a story that is not just (hopefully) funny but also action packed.
The Alienbutt Saga is based around humanity using coffee, which is the most addictive drug ever know, to take control of the universe. Only the last Alienbutt and the Ick Empire can stop them, well that is until a new evil rises to challenge both sides. The mysterious Mr Fluffy is a super intelligent cat who aims to take control of the universe that rightly belongs to him anyway. The story is full of epic space battles and strange science as war rips apart the universal peace.
John the Barman is about putting gods and supernatural beings into everyday situations of having jobs they hate, retirement and growing old and online dating problems. Also my other short story series in the Vampire Eloim Stories, the tale of a teenage cross dressing vampire struggling to stay out of trouble as a Demon Empress tries to hunt him down. A young vampire that is stylish (even if it is his sister’s outfit he’s wearing.) but doesn’t think twice about killing and would only go to a school to drink all the cheer leaders.

Why do I write what I do?
I have a twisted sense of humour and like to look at the world and see the bizarre in everyday things. I get random ideas and sometimes they come together into something I can make into a story. I would struggle to write a story that didn’t have a slightly twisted angle to the subject as my brain can’t cope with serious, so I’m left to my own devices so far to just be that strange person telling daft stories.

How does my writing process work?
Well the easy answer is I sit with a glass of whisky and drink, type and refill the glass. This is because I only really get the peace on an evening to sit down, relax and write. During the day there’s always things that need doing (Facebook isn’t a distraction at all, honest.) and until I sell enough books I can’t afford a housekeeper. I get ideas from anywhere, a random conversation or just letting my mind wander. John the Barman came from a Facebook status update and the equally twisted minds of people on my friends list. I don’t have any rules for writing, never set targets (I always miss them) I just see an idea and try to see where it will go. If it’s a good idea then the words will flow and I end up with something, if not it’s back to Candy Crush until another idea forms. Another good point of my writing style is I’m lazy so because of my subject matter I don’t need to do a lot of research, I really do just make it all up as I go along.

Well that’s me, like I said I’m a story teller as I’m far too unorganised to be an author. Next up on this Blog Tour is one of my favourite horror authors and luckily for me a friend. The founder, with her husband of Gingernut Books who decided they like my daft stories enough to take me on.
So let me introduce the red-headed stealer of souls from the depths of Sherwood Forest, the amazingly talented Michelle Gent. Michelle burst onto the horror scene with the amazing Deadlier… than the Male, a sprawling epic that introduced readers to her world of wolfkind. With more books following plus her Dusty the Demon Hunter series she has established herself as a mistress of horror.

Her blog can be found here:
http://www.dmichellegent.co.uk/blog.html

Who really was St. Valentine

Well after a few false starts on this Valentines blog I’ve decided to go with the facts on St. Valentine. So who was he? Simple answer is apart from the fact he was an early Christian priest and martyr nothing is known about him apart from the day on which he was beaten and the beheaded. Saint Valentine ( Or Valentinus to give him his real name.) may be a widely recognized third century Roman saint who died on February 14th but there the truth stops. All the rest is information added centuries later and further muddled by the fact there are three St. Valentines associated with February 14th . It gets better, in all there are eleven other saints having the name Valentine commemorated in the Roman Catholic Church.
So how did St. Valentine become associated with a day for love and romance? Well one reason was Geoffrey Chaucer and a poem he wrote to celebrate the first anniversary of the engagement of King Richard II of England to Anne of Bohemia, in in particular this line from the poem known as Parlement of Foules.

For this was on seynt Volantynys day
Whan euery bryd comyth there to chese his make.
This makes even my spelling look good but here is the translation:
"For this was on Saint Valentine's Day, when every bird cometh there to choose his mate."

Well this one line about birds getting all loved up really started the whole day of love that is the 14th of February. Chaucer wasn’t the only one that was fascinated by the private lives of Mr and Mrs Bird. It was *ahem* ‘fair game’ around this period of time with at least three other authors doing their own versions of fifty shades of feathers. So there you go, the day of love started out as badly spelt poems about ruffled feathers in the late 1300’s.
So a little of the myth, this St. Valentine was an early Christian priest who is reported to have broken Roman law by performing weddings for soldiers and for spreading the teachings of Christ. The story goes that the Roman Emperor at the time, Claudius II supposedly had this great idea that married men did not make good soldiers and so outlawed marriage as he sought to increase his army. Saint Valentine ignored this law and performed weddings and also cut heart shapes from parchment, giving them to the soldiers and other persecuted Christians. These hearts were a gentle reminder to his flock of God's love and to encourage them to remain faithful Christians.
Not surprisingly his action drew the attention of the authorities and he was dragged before the Roman Emperor Claudius II. (mental images of Monty Python’s life of Brian and Pilate shouting: Thwow him to the floor spring to mind.) Claudius was impressed by Valentine and made an offer that if he converted to Roman paganism he could live. Valentine refused to be swayed and tried to convert Claudius to Christianity instead. This wasn’t the smartest move he ever made and he was condemned to be executed. While awaiting his execution he performed a miracle by healing Julia, the blind daughter of his jailer Asterius. This act resulted in the jailer and his family converting to Christianity and they were all baptized. On the evening before Valentine was to be executed, he wrote a note to Julia, the first ever ‘valentine’ card, signing it as "Your Valentine."
Saint Valentine was buried in the Church of Praxedes in Rome, located near the cemetery of St Hippolytus. According to legend, Julia herself planted a pink-blossomed almond tree near his grave. The almond tree remains a symbol of abiding love and friendship to this day.

So why would the Romans not like and persecute this small religious cult and kill so many of its followers? Well look at things from the Roman point of view. These Christians were a sect from the Jewish faith and the Jews were not really in favour in Rome at the time. Added to this they refused to acknowledge the Roman religions and ways so were also seen as traitors. But here is the clincher, the actions that kept the arena lions fed. These Christians had secret rites but details were known, they met in secret and drank the blood of Jesus and ate his flesh. This Jesus, who was a criminal who had been executed but then rose from the dead. In the very heart of the Empire was a secret cult that was spreading its vile practices. The Roman people came to the only conclusion that fitted the known facts, the Empire was under attack from Vampires.

Well with so few facts know about this St’ Valentine I’m running with this idea as it fits the rumours of the day. The patron saint of love was a blood sucker and the Emperor Claudius II had his head chopped off to prevent him rising from his grave.

Why the Vampire heart throbs?

Why the Vampire heart throbs?

I have a personal dislike to Vampires, and the little acquaintance I have with them would by no means induce me to reveal their secrets
Lord Byron.

I begin with a quote from Lord Byron, why Byron and not Bram Stoker you ask? Well the start of English literature’s fascination with Vampires did not begin with Dracula. In 1819 John Polidori's wrote a novella, “The Vampyre”, this story established the archetype of a charismatic and sophisticated vampire into the western consciousness. Many believe that this was the most influential vampire work of the early 19th century, it inspired such works as “Varney the Vampire” and eventually the epic that is “Dracula”. Yet “The Vampyre” was not itself a starting point of Vampire literature but based on Lord Byron's unfinished story "Fragment of a Novel" that was published in 1819 without Byron’s permission. Byron started the story as part of a ghost writing contest in 1816 with Percy Bysshe Shelley. (This little contest would have a major impact on horror writing as it also led to the creation of Mary Shelley's Frankenstein.)

So why was there this interest in these ancient creatures of folklore? Well in the early 18th century there was an influx of vampire folklore into Western Europe from the Balkans and Eastern Europe as the grand tours began in Europe. The arrival of this vampire superstition into Western Europe led to some cases of mass hysteria resulting in corpses being staked and people being accused of being vampires. As the stories were told to a new audience fear and distrust took root, the stage was set for the story tellers to write their tales of terror and the vampire horror genre was born. But how did this terrifying creature that caused panic in 18th century Europe become the romantic heroes and the high school heart throbs of today’s stories?
A quick look at the history of Vampires will show the terror they invoked. In the middle ages the church classed them as minions of Satan and used this allegory to describe them.

"Just as a vampire takes a sinner's very spirit into itself by drinking his blood, so also can a righteous Christian by drinking Christ's blood take the divine spirit into himself."

The fear of these creatures was already set by the teaching of the church so when new stories arrived people listened just that bit harder.

The vampire myths, as we know them today originated in the folklore of Eastern Europe in the late 17th and 18th centuries. One of the earliest recorded vampire activities happened way back in 1672 in the region of Istria, in what is now Croatia. Reports at the time spoke of the village of Khring and the panic among the villagers there. A former peasant, Guire Grando who had died in 1656 was claimed by local villagers to have returned from the dead and begun to drink blood from people as well as sexually harassing his widow. The villages drove a stake through his heart, but that failed to stop him, so his body was beheaded and then the attacks stopped.

During the 18th century government officials were even engaged in hunting vampires and staking those bodies found. This ‘Age of Enlightenment’, when most folklore legends were dismissed saw the belief in vampires explode into the public consciousness. Mass hysteria took hold throughout most of Europe as people cowered in fear of the blood sucking creatures that stalked the night. Incidents involving vampires were well-documented as government officials examined the bodies and wrote case reports. The hysteria, commonly referred to as the "18th-Century Vampire Controversy", raged for a generation as books were published recording these official reports. Rural epidemics of these alleged vampire attacks saw locals digging up bodies to stake them as the terror continued. This ‘vampire controversy’ only ended after the Empress Maria Theresa of Austria dispatched her personal physician, Gerard van Swieten, to investigate the claims of vampires praying on the living. After carrying out his investigation he concluded that vampires did not exist. The Empress then passed laws that prohibited the opening of graves and desecration of bodies and the panic finally passed.

So how did vampires change from the creatures that terrified the whole of Europe to some teenage high school student that sparkles in the sun? Is it all down to recent Hollywood movies and American T.V. shows that changed the myths of vampires and brought them into the daylight?

Well if we start with the gothic horror masterpiece that is ‘Dracula’ we can see the start of the humanisation of Vampires was even present there. Published in 1897 the story is based around a love triangle between Dracula, Mina and Jonathan. Dracula is a man condemned to become a vampire because of his reaction to a lost love. His aim in the story is to win the heart of a woman he recognises as his lost love but she is engaged to another. Even at this early stage at the beginning of the vampire journey into literature we have the introduction of romance and vampires seeing people as more than just food.
So is it any wonder that the modern vampire has evolved into what many see as fangless veggie vampires, teenage immortals getting crushes on their class mates? They have left the shadows of night behind and walk in the daylight losing their power to scare us. They are now moody emo-vampires that appeal to a new audience that don’t want to be terrified but to fall in love. We are drawn to their immortality and freedom but then we fill it with morals, only feeding on bottled blood or killing only the bad guys. We seek to tame the killer and make them acceptable. We may love our vampires but only if they have a very human set of morals so they are not heartless killers who see us as their next snack.
Vampires today have become pale shadows of their beginings and unless they are cast as a villainous monsters (30 days of night, a rare return to the folklore vampire.) they need a love interest and to show their brooding human sides with smouldering looks and the odd bit of action to show their strength. Even the action hero Vampire (Blade, Underworld) are not true blood suckers and do not kill to feed, the vampire world has become safe for humans to enter.

An exception to these new rules are the books of Anne Rice, seen by many as the greatest living author of vampire horror. With her vampires we still have vampires battling and searching out their personal ‘humanity’, questioning who and what they are but the essence of their past remains. In ‘Interview with the Vampire’ Louis is the new vampire, still remembering his human side, battling his instincts and morality while Lestat is the monster unleashed, totally amoral and enjoying his life. The two represent different sides of the creature evolution, the humanised Vampire of modern literature and what vampires once were, a terrifying amoral monster that killed without thought. In Lestat we have a vampire that is in essence what he should be, a killer that enjoys being what he is.

So where does that leave a would be story teller with a vampire story, does he go for the modern safe version of a vampire and write a glorified love story or delve back into the time when a vampire had no use for people beyond dinner? Is there a market for a killer vampire that is cast in the lead role and doesn’t fall in love?
Maybe my idea of a vampire comedy about a cross dressing teenage vampire that kills without remorse is no dafter than a vampire who lives in the woods and sparkles. After all how many years could you take the same classes and not have the teacher notice you are there again and not looking any different to when the teacher was fresh out of training collage thirty years before. My vampire Eloim may be a daft series of short stories but he knows what his fangs are for and would see high school as just an all you can eat restaurant.

So am I going to hell for blasphemy?

Right so I start working on this new short story and read it back and think...
OH NO, IS THIS A LITTLE TOO MUCH
So how do i find out?
Simple, I'm gonna ask you lot.
So here follows the part of JOHN THE BARMAN i'm unsure about. Is it light hearted comedy of am I going to hell for blasphemy.
you decide then.
And before you jump all over me for grammer and stuff it hasn't been proofread or anything as it's still a work in progress.

Part one.
HELL ON A BUDGET.


The bar was small, dark and twenty years the wrong side of needing decorating. It consisted of a single long room with one side dominated by the wooden bar while on the other side threadbare bench seats made up three horseshoe snugs. As usual behind the bar John was working, well he was reading a newspaper as he waited the day’s customers to turn up but he was classed as working. Working the mid-week dayshift was never what you could call difficult, unless you forgot something to read. You just had a handful of regulars with nowhere better to go or avoiding going where they had to go for a while. The bar was officially one step above a dive but that was the way the regulars liked it to be. It was a bar you could relax in that had a lived-in feeling and a friendly face to serve you drinks and bags of crisps. He kept the toilets relatively clean and there was usually toilet paper in the cubicles and the smell from the gents wasn’t too overpowering. On the other side of the stairs that led up to the entrance was an open space dominated by a pool table, the only item in the place that was kept in good condition. The windows on the far side of the table were large and dirty and let in just enough light to keep the place dingy. This suited the bar and hid much of the years of grime and also made the television picture on the projection screen, above the toilet doors at the opposite end of the room visible. The television was just used as background ambience when he turned it on, always tuned into one of the music channels that played mindless songs so it had the volume on mute almost constantly.

John heard the first of his customers come stamping up the stairs and didn’t need to look up to know who it was. As his first customer sat down on a barstool before him John absently leaned over and grabbed a bottle of brown ale from the shelf next to his chair and flicked off the lid on the bar mounted bottle opener without looking.
“Good night at the nut house?” John enquired placing the bottle on the bar, still not looking up from his newspaper.
“I so hate my job, we had a load of new arrivals during the night and had a hell of a job finding accommodation for them all. I’m sure Peter is getting more choosey on who he lets in so sends them over to me as he can’t be bothered to do proper background checks.” The customer replied in a weary voice before taking a long drink from the bottle before him.
“Anyone I would have heard of?” John asked finally looking up.
“Just a few lawyers, a minor politician and some old television presenter on an emergency transfer. He was a top security case, had my top people lining up to take that one and start working on the vile little man.” The customer said with disgust. “Why I always get the scumbags I don’t know.”
“Could it be because you run Hell Lucifer, kind of goes with the job having to deal with the scumbags down there.” John answered picking up a DVD case. “Let me put this on for you, cheer you up a bit before any other customers turn up and disturb you.”
“What is it?” Lucifer asked with interest.
“Riverdance, and before you ask yes it’s Michael Flatley dancing the lead.” John said with a grin that was returned by Lucifer.
“You’re a star, I loved this when it came out, cried my eyes out first time I saw it live.” Lucifer spun around on the stool to face the screen. John always spent time looking for anything to do with dancing if he went to a car boot sale or charity shop as he knew Lucifer loved dance. He had wanted to go to dance school but his Father had forbidden it. He had heard there had been a big fight that ended with Lucifer finally being forced to go and run hell. He was a nice guy but so misunderstood because of his job as head jailer for his Father. Finding a few DVDs was the least John could do to try and cheer the unhappy ex-angel up. Even now after all this time he was still upset at being forced to go into the family business.
“Is your Father popping in later do you know?” John asked as he put the disc in the battered DVD player.
“He should be, I think he wants to go over the budget. How he expects me to keep running things if I can’t employ more staff I don’t know.” Lucifer drained his drink and indicated with a shake of the empty bottle he wanted a fresh one.
“So the trial on promoting some of the inmates to overseers didn’t work then?” John asked as he pressed play.
“A disaster, the evil little bastards wouldn’t stop torturing the other inmates, those mime artists are real sickos once they start a performance.” Lucifer said as he turned his attention to the screen. “In the end the only way we could stop them was to throw them into the nearest pool of burning oil. Lilith was closest to them and she saw the expressions on their face and heard their silent screams. She was so traumatised she needed a month off work to get over the nightmares. Those mime artists are seriously under-rated as performers of pure evil.”
John grabbed another bottle and after opening it placed in on the bar next to Lucifer who sat now bobbing his head with the start of the music. Grabbing himself a double whisky to banish the image of the burning mime artists he sat back down on his stool behind the bar and returned his attention to the paper.

Riverdance was reaching its conclusion and Lucifer stood in the middle of the floor dancing along in perfect time as a couple of new customers walked up the stairs. John looked up as the first of two old men came into view. He put his arm out against the wall breathing heavily as he reached the top step.
“Two beers John and whatever the old fart behind me wants.” He gasped then looked over at Lucifer and shook his head in disgust before continuing over to the bar. The second old man reached the top of the stairs and headed for a bar stool next to him also breathing heavily.
“Your usual?” John asked him as he placed the first pint on the bar and started pulling the second pint, the old man just nodded as he regained his breath. Both men had been heavily muscled in their youth but age had robbed them of their strength. John placed the second pint on the bar before grabbing a wine glass from a shelf above the bar and turning to the wine bottles he filled it with a cheap house red wine.
“When you’re done pouring the girly drink can we have the pool cues, gonna teach this old fart a lesson in pool again.” The first old man said with a grin. John placed the wineglass down and turned to grab the cues from the corner where they were kept.
“You never taught me nothing in your life, your eyesight’s that bad you can’t even see the end of the cue never mind the balls on the table.” The second man snapped and picking up the glass walked off to the pool table. “I’ll rack ‘em.”
With the DVD finishing Lucifer walked back to the bar and picked up his bottle, he gave the old man with the beers a nod. “Morning Thor, how’s your Father?”
“Daft old coot thinks he’s back in Midgard, if he’s got two brain cells working he’s having a good day.” Thor replied and finished off the first pint before accepting the pool cues that John passed over the bar to him.
“Thor, hurry up it’s your break.” Shouted the other old man from up by the pool table. “Morning Lucifer.” He added more cheerfully.
“Morning Hercules, how’s your back holding up?” Inquired Lucifer.
“Sore as buggery, dam damp weather always makes it play up.” Hercules replied giving the small of his back a rub to illustrate his discomfort.
“No catching the balls you two, how am I supposed to make any money if you only pay for one rack a day.” John warned them with a smile as Thor walked over to the table.
“As if we would ever do that.” Hercules answered smiling. “We’re the honest hero guys remember.”
John gave a look that showed that heroes or not he knew they always caught the balls and grabbed another bottle off the shelf for Lucifer.
“It’s a shame about Odin.” Lucifer said as he accepted the bottle.
“Age catches up with everyone eventually.” John replied sitting back down.
“Except you.” Lucifer said with a smile.
“Don’t know I felt my age this morning. Got talked into a lock-in by a couple of your lads last night, was as rough as a badgers arse this morning.” John replied with a grimace.
“You shouldn’t let them talk you into lock-ins John, they’d keep you open round the clock if they had their way.” Lucifer answered.

Lucifer sat watching the music channel that now played as he supped at another bottle. The sound for the television was muted as Thor had selected a string of rock tracks from the jukebox so some kid called Justin was presently appearing to sing ‘Enter Sandman’. All things considered with how just seeing him prance about on stage Lucifer was thankful the sound to the music video was switched off. Suddenly he felt a vibration in his pocket and reaching in and pulled out his mobile phone, pressing the screen he read the text message and groaned.
“Can you get me a double whisky and a lager top, Fathers on his way and Gabriel is tagging along.”
John nodded and got up. “Are you still not talking to your brother Gabriel?”
Lucifer pulled a face. “The guy’s a dick, he delivers one message, gets a bit of fame and thinks he’s the big I am. If it wasn’t for the fact he always hides behind Father I would kick his ass.”
John nodded in a non-committal sort of way as he placed the glass of whiskey on the bar and grabbed a glass for the lager top.
By the time he had poured the drink they heard footsteps on the stairs and Gabriel walked in. He was wearing a postman’s uniform and dropped his bag by a stool.
“Father will be up in a minute, he stopped to catch up with some tramp with a dog.” Gabriel picked up the larger top and took a sip. “So Lucifer, how’s work, keeping you busy?” He asked smugly.
“Sod off delivery boy before I take that bag and ram it up where the sun doesn’t shine.” Lucifer replied angrily.
“Lucifer! Be nice to your brother.” A voice said from the top of the stair, Lucifer sat up a little straighter on his stool but didn’t turn around.
“That was me being nice Father, I gave him a warning rather than just showing him what I plan to do.” Lucifer replied sullenly. “So who were you talking to?”
“Jack, he keeps getting drunk and disturbing his neighbours, waking up their baby.” God answered walking into the room. “Then the mother starts praying for him to be quiet and she really believes so it’s like someone shouting in my ear. It always puts me off doing the suduko in the paper”
“So what did you tell him?” Lucifer asked.
“I gave him a severe throat infection and told him if he has another drink it will fry his liver, then I gave him a few visions.” God said sitting down.
“You think it will work?” Lucifer asked. “Will he stop waking the baby?”
“Sure it will, he ran off and got hit by a bus.” God replied.
“Wasn’t that a little extreme, I’ve seen you leave here some nights singing at the top of your voice.” John asked aghast, Lucifer and Gabriel both nodded their agreement.
“Well maybe the visions were a little too much, but how was I supposed to know he would run like that.” God answered looking at the whisky glass in front of him. “I did make sure the dog went to a new home and ordered Peter to fast track him through the Pearly Gates.”
“Well that’s something, who took the dog in?” John asked.
“Angelo, the guy from the kebab shop down the street.” God answered. “He seemed happy to look after it.”
“Well if I was you I wouldn’t be calling into Angelo’s for a kebab for a few weeks.” John warned them. “He does have a reputation around here.”
“He wouldn’t… would he?” Gabriel said the colour draining from his face.
“He is on the list of borderline possible inmates for my place,” Lucifer said with a smile. “and dogs do go missing a lot round here. We have special accommodation for those who are cruel to animals.”
“Enough Lucifer, stop winding your brother up, Angelo does not use pet dogs to make his kebabs. “ God said sternly and then took a sip from his glass before continuing. “So John, a little quiet in here this morning isn’t it?”
“It’s the rain.” John explained, happy at the changer in subject as he shut out the image of the tramp getting hit by the bus. God was a nice bloke and could be really thoughtful but at times the old Testament thinking would take over. “Only the hard-core oldies pop in when the weathers bad.”
God looked over at Thor and Hercules, Thor had a hand in a pocket on the pool table and as Hercules took the shot the red ball fell into his palm. Taking the ball he put it into the holding area for the balls on one end of the table. “Lucky shot.” He grumbled.
“You should stop them doing that.” God observed.
John put down the paper with a shrug. “They’re doing no harm and there’s nobody waiting to play.”
“Well it’s your business I suppose.” God replied reaching out and spinning around the paper to look at the head line on the front page. “X Factor Judge shame.” God read out loud, “Is there no real news?”
“I love X Factor, who is it?” Gabriel asked leaning forward.
“Angels should not listen to tabloid gossip.” God said sternly as he read the story. “And getting rat-arsed and falling down outside a club is hardly shameful, let’s face it we’ve all done it. So what proper news is there John?”
“Not much.” John answered with a shrug. “Some preacher of yours in America has announced that you told him personally that same sex marriages are a sin and whoever performs them will burn in hell as well.”
“As well as who?” God asked confused.
“The gays I think.” Lucifer offered as he reached over and opened the paper to page three.
“What? You get all the gay people Lucifer, I didn’t know that.” God asked looking confused. “When did that rule get made?”
“Not sure, it’s not something we ever consider when people arrive?” Lucifer answered. “When they first arrive we just torture them until they work out and admit why they are down there, until they know what they’ve done we can’t get down to the real work of making them suffer. Their sexuality though never comes up, it’s not on my list of sins you sent down.”
“Humans get some strange ideas, Gabriel ask Michael to find out who came up with this stupid idea about being gay being a sin.” God demanded. “And get onto Jesus and tell him to stop playing happy families and sort out his bloody church.”
“He’s trying Father but every time he turns around a wife has another D.I.Y. project or needs something from the shops.” Gabriel said defending Jesus.
“Why how many wives does he have?” John asked.
“Well imagine all the nuns for the last two thousand years and then remember that they are all the brides of Christ and you understand the lads suffering. The crucifixion was just the start of him suffering for humanities sins.” Lucifer replied hiding a smirk.
“All right Lucifer, just because we didn’t notice that line you slipped into the contract. No need to be so smug, now let’s go sit down and talk about this budget request of yours.”
“It was a joke, I didn’t realise it would be binding.” Lucifer replied trying to look innocent.
Standing up with his drink in his hand God walked over to one of the snugs. Lucifer gave one last admiring look at the page three girl then followed god to sit down. Gabriel stayed at the bar sipping at his larger.
“Gabriel, don’t be all day with that drink, I don’t want them letters delivering late.” God said over his shoulder.

God and Lucifer talked for about twenty minutes before God left with a wave to John and the two old men still playing pool.
“Sorry all but got to run, I’ve a mountain of prayers to answer. I got a prayer from a little girl last night that almost had me in tears, her dad is away with the army and he hasn’t seen her new baby brother yet so I need to put an angel to watch over him till he gets home.” God apologised as he headed for the stairs. “And Lucifer, pull your demons off the politicians in America, I’m getting a little sick of them whispering in their ears and causing trouble.”
“Nothing to do with me, not influenced any of that lot since the Nixon thing in the early seventies. It was a waste of resources as they are doing better without my help.” Lucifer answered shrugging his shoulders.
“You mean they come up with that stuff on their own? Now that’s scary.” God said with a shake of his head and then headed down the stairs.
Lucifer came up to the bar, a smile on his face as he ordered another drink.
“You managed to get the extra funding then?” John asked.
“Most of it, I threatened a zombie apocalypse by refusing to take any new inmates and when I pointed out the upcoming disaster at the international Morris Dancer festival he caved in. Seems a host of zombie Morris Dancers is more than he could bare.”
John paused as the mental image flashed across his mind, with a shudder he grabbed himself a glass and poured himself another double whisky.
“That was a real low blow even for you.” John said. “Zombie Morris Dancers is inspired, but still a low blow.”
Lucifer gave a grin. “Well I’m supposed to be evil aren’t I? Now I need to get off, got seats to go and see ‘strictly come dancing’ being filmed tonight and need to get ready. Have you been watching it? That fat old guy is hilarious.”
“I thought you wasn’t supposed to call people fat anymore?” John asked.
Lucifer stopped and grinning pointed to himself. “Hello, Lucifer here, the Prince of Darkness. Political correctness may be something I invented but it doesn’t mean I have to use it.”