Mummy's Revenge

Mummy's Revenge Mummy's Revenge

Status: Finished

Genre: Humor

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Humor

Summary

The second episode in a series of short stories about a young lesbian, her partner and the ghost of her wickedly sadistic mother. As usual, Daddy comes in for some rough treatment. Well, he never should have killed her in that car crash ...

Summary

The second episode in a series of short stories about a young lesbian, her partner and the ghost of her wickedly sadistic mother. As usual, Daddy comes in for some rough treatment. Well, he never should have killed her in that car crash ...

Content

Submitted: September 14, 2017

A A A | A A A

Content

Submitted: September 14, 2017

A A A

A A A


MUMMY’S REVENGE

(Story 2 in the Mummy series)


 

A SHORT STORY BY PETER RANCER

The shaven headed man sitting on one of the two iron-framed beds in the tiny prison cell had been christened David by his doting mother - but he was better known to all and sundry as ‘Lump Hammer’.  

He’d acquired the nickname because of a bit of philosophy he often repeated. It was his way of coping with the trials and tribulations of day to day living: “If it can’t be fixed with a hammer, it must be electrical – and I don’t do electrics.” It summed up nicely his take on the world.

Well, actually, that was only one of the reasons he had been given the name.  Another reason (probably the more truthful one) was that he was a lump of a man who liked hammering people.

Anyway, everybody who knew him simply called him “Lump”. Mostly, people avoided him.

Back at the particular point in time, when our story started, Lump was gazing intently at Page 3 of a well-known national daily newspaper. This was in the years before political correctness held the media in its icy grip and Page 3 was still worth looking at. So, not surprisingly, Lump was trying to masturbate. It was becoming hard work, nothing seemed to be working.

Suddenly, a cool and deliciously female voice said: “I’d help you if I could but I’m afraid I have no substance.”

Intent as he was on the job in hand (so to speak), Lump had totally failed to notice the eerie drop in temperature in the cell. And, with his attention firmly on the newspaper, he hadn’t even noticed the appearance of the elegant, middle-aged lady, whose ghost had materialised in the room and was now sitting on the edge of the bed opposite.

Lump just stared at her with his dead fish eyes.

“You don’t seem very startled. Do you see a lot of ghosts?” the lady asked him.

“With all the prisons I’ve been in, I’ve seen loads. But, to be honest, (which usually, but not this time, meant he was about to tell a lie) I’ve not seen one like you.”

“And,” he continued, “You’re the first one to speak to me. So, are you here for a reason? Is it my time already? Do I have to go away with you? I’m not scared you know.”

“No, no, it’s nothing like that.  It’s just that your usual guardian angel is on holiday, as always, so I’ve been designated to come with an important message for you. I’ll tell you what; you carry on with what you’re doing while I explain it to you.  Let’s see if this helps.”

Before Lump’s disbelieving eyes the lady shimmered and began to change. Within moments she had morphed into the stunningly attractive brunette she had been back in her early twenties. Her clothes had changed as well.  She was now wearing a bikini, the top of which she slowly began to remove.  

Lump wasted no time getting back to business.

“Right,” she began. ”Well, to start with, you’re getting a new cell mate later today.  He is ostensibly doing time for causing death by dangerous driving but he is really a police spy. He is also a child molester  ...”

“A nonce?” Lump interrupted, with righteous indignation.

“Yes, but if you keep stopping like that you’ll never finish. Now, where was I? Oh, yes, that’s it. Yes, he’s actually a vile pervert but the police have done a deal with him. That’s why he has this driving story as a cover.  I’ll tell you some of the things he’s done”

Her story did the trick far better than a picture in a paper. Lump grinned in relief.

“There, that must feel better.” The ghost said, “I’d stay and help clear up the mess but, as I said before, I have no substance.” And, at that, and with a farewell smile, she vanished.

TWENTY YEARS LATER

Emma walked indoors into the spacious, five bed, detached house she shared with her partner, Lauren.  The sudden chill as she entered was a dead give-away (for want of a better expression), so it came as no surprise to see the ghost of her mother sitting waiting for her in the lounge.

“Hello, Mummy. How did you get out this time?” Emma asked.

“I’m actually legit for once,” Mummy replied. “At Halloween we’re all allowed out for an hour at midnight.”

“But, that’s not until November,” said Emma, her voice loaded with suspicion.

“Yes, dear, but my friend Albert, you know; Mr Einstein, has been teaching me all about time travel and I can now exit the pearly gates at the given hour and then flit anywhere I like in time and space”

“Oh, Mummy. You’re not having a fling with Albert Einstein, are you?”

“Don’t be silly, darling. Of course I am. He was a very dashing young man in his day. Anyway, enough of that, I want all the news since I was last here. The fact you’re still alive shows you heeded my warning.”

“Yes, we did and it was vile,” said Emma, recalling the events of two years earlier, “The boys we picked up were actually quite nice, for males that it. Problem is; one of them has totally fallen for Lauren even though he’s fully aware of the true situation.”

“That must be awkward?”

“God, yes. He’s forever hanging round, trying to get her to like him. Completely wasting his time, of course, but annoying for us as well.”

“Have you heard from your father at all?”

“Yes, now and again. His business is finally picking up and…” she hesitated, “Well, he’s married. His new wife is bit of a sour puss. I don’t know what he sees in her but it’s his choice I suppose.”

“Don’t be concerned. I knew all this already; I popped by his office on the way here just to learn a few things. Tell me, does he ever mention the time he spent in prison after killing me in the car crash?”

“No, never. And I’m not surprised either. My foster parents didn’t let me visit him often but when I did he was always covered in cuts and bruises. I don’t think the other prisoners liked him much. From what I know of it he spent most of his time in solitary confinement or the hospital wing. Why are you smiling like that?”

“Nothing, dear, nothing. Now please pick up the phone and dial a number for me. I’ll also need you to hold it up for me so I can use it. No substance you know…”

Emma, although somewhat hesitantly, did as she was bid and held the phone for Mummy to speak into.

“Hello, is that Madame Cyn’s establishment? Oh, good morning. I believe my boss has an appointment with you at three o’clock. Yes, that’s the one. Well, I’m his secretary and he always gets me to organise something a bit special for him when he tries somewhere new. He’ll only ever ask for straight sex himself, he’s shy you know, but what he really wants is something else. Do any of your girls have experience of martial arts? Thai kickboxing? Yes, that will do nicely. Now what he really likes is to be stripped and asked to stand, blindfolded, with his legs apart, then kicked very hard and very often in his testicles. Ha, ha, yes, I agree, a very strange man indeed. But that’s what he likes. Now, I’m sure there’s an extra charge for this service so I’ll give you his credit card details, just help yourself. Are you ready...?

“Got all that? Good. Now one last thing. If he does get injured, or passes out or anything, his wife is more than happy to come and take care of him. Yes, you’re right, a very indulgent lady. He’s lucky to have her. Anyway, if you’ve still got your pen handy, I’ll give you her number……….”

“Mummy! This has got to stop.” Said Emma, furious with herself for not having hung up the phone, “Daddy served his time for killing you and, if you recall, you had him savagely beaten at his boarding school for something he didn’t do. Now, he’s going to be kicked in the whatsits by some prostitute and you’ve probably wrecked his marriage for good measure as well! Whatever happened to the concept of forgiveness? Don’t they do that in Heaven anymore?”

Mummy looked at Emma as though she had just said something incredibly naïve. “Are you being serious,” she said, “It’s all about Judgement Day and righteously painful stuff up there. Nobody really believes in reformed characters.”

“Now, I know that isn’t true, Mummy,” replied Emma, somewhat smugly, “Why only the other day I was reading about this Jesuit priest who’s just been made a bishop.  He’s spent twenty years rooting out paedophile priests and protecting vulnerable children.”

“And your point is?”

“Well, apparently, he used to be a right thug. Spent loads of time behind bars for violence and things. I think they even called him Lump Hammer, or something.”

“Lump Hammer? Really?” For some inexplicable reason Mummy was showing genuine interest,

“Did they say any more about him?” she asked her daughter.

“Not much. But the reason he’s famous is that he has always said he was reformed by a beautiful angel who appeared to him in a vision when he was in jail. Do angels really exist then, Mummy?”

“Oh yes, darling,” Mummy positively purred, “and, apparently, some of them are very beautiful…..”


 

To be continued ……

 


© Copyright 2019 Peter Rancer. All rights reserved.

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