Deliver Us From Evil
by
Angel Kirk
Chapter 1
Milwaukee, Wisconsin, 1957.
Torrential hail was plaguing the entire city. An evening, unfortunately, which no one made a move out of their houses. Unfortunately, Richie Cunningham, Warren Weber, Arthur Fonzarelli, Ralph Malph, Joanie Cunningham and Chachi Arcola were no exceptions. Arnold's, the teens' hangout wouldn't be available tonight...
According to the news report, hail was as huge as the average creek skimming stone, "the worst hailstorm Milwaukee had ever seen since April 1938." Hail dented any cars, shattered any trees, bruised any left out dairy cows or other livestock, and if Arthur Fonzarelli, or who his friends called "Fonzie" didn't lock his Harley-Davidson up tighter than a drum, it would almost literally be mere mincemeat by sunrise. Richie sat in his room upstairs in his innocent, naturally edelweiss Milwaukee home, and listened to it...it sounded as if the whole rest of planet earth was applauding him and Milwaukee, it seemed so strange. Phone lines were, unfortunately, down for the moment, as the wooden phone lines of old, too, were mercilessly prayed upon. Richie gazed outside his window. His rightfully pure-hearted eyes were wide as his jaw hung open, stunned to see God hurling small golf balls at earth. A moment to laugh at the thought...he imagined this Charleton Heston-like fellow in scarlet and gold and jewels galore, going into some god-awful conniption fit, tossing bucket after bucket of golf balls right for his hometown.
A mighty bolt flashed and made the city, for a split second, look like afternoon, its form was almost as lithesome and majestic as Grace Kelly in a white satin dress.
God had taken an acre of oxygen and ripped it in two.
Whoa, Richie thought, spring housecleaning in the world above!
But little did he or any Milwaukeean realize...that the housecleaning...had only begun to begin.
Chapter 2
Milwaukee was ravaged.
Firm buildings were tattered like the frayed end of a broken branch the morning after. Telephone lines were temporarily down (much to the dismay of many teen girls in town, including a lamenting Joanie) , Power lines were down, very few TV antennas had survived. Milk was still being delivered, thank goodness, and the town was certainly bustling for such supplies as food, water, diapers, and whatever they could stock up on.
As for Arnold's, it was built on quite a stronger foundation and it was lucky to have power, but nevertheless it itself had taken quite a lot of battle scars. While many of their respective family members were stockpiling at the market, Richie and friends were chitchatting inside the wounded Arnold's. "Holy Toledo, did you see all that happened last night?" "Yeah!", Warren (a.k.a. Potsie) Weber laughed. "It was cool!" The teens were in high spirits about the incident, unlike the adults they lived with.it was one of the most interesting things that ever happened to them in their town since they were kids. "Did you see that stuff going on?" laughed Ralph. "Man, it was rainin' golf balls!" "I liked it when the lightning flashed. It looked like daytime!" Potsie exclaimed.
Though the teens were enjoying their conversation, Richie was considerably uneasy. "I dunno, guys, I mean really.this just isn't hailstorm weather we're having, I mean, it's just so unusual to have a hailstorm this time of year." "What are you complaining about, Rich?" asked Potsie. "It's the most exciting thing that's ever happened to this town. Buildings practically leveled to the ground, power lines down, trees beaten to a pulp, hide the cattle, hide Fonzie's Harley, everybody's freakin' out Nothing exciting happens around here anymore unless one of us goes on a panty raid." "I don't know guys. I just feel something strange is about to go on.something just isn't right." Fonzie entered Arnold's carrying his Harley-- whom he'd named Her Majesty of Portugal-- which was salvaged just in time, only taking a sky bullet to its front light, carried like a soldier on his arm. He was not amused. "Would somebody please tell me why it was raining freakin' golf balls last night?" he asked.
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by
Angel Kirk
Chapter 1
Milwaukee, Wisconsin, 1957.
Torrential hail was plaguing the entire city. An evening, unfortunately, which no one made a move out of their houses. Unfortunately, Richie Cunningham, Warren Weber, Arthur Fonzarelli, Ralph Malph, Joanie Cunningham and Chachi Arcola were no exceptions. Arnold's, the teens' hangout wouldn't be available tonight...
According to the news report, hail was as huge as the average creek skimming stone, "the worst hailstorm Milwaukee had ever seen since April 1938." Hail dented any cars, shattered any trees, bruised any left out dairy cows or other livestock, and if Arthur Fonzarelli, or who his friends called "Fonzie" didn't lock his Harley-Davidson up tighter than a drum, it would almost literally be mere mincemeat by sunrise. Richie sat in his room upstairs in his innocent, naturally edelweiss Milwaukee home, and listened to it...it sounded as if the whole rest of planet earth was applauding him and Milwaukee, it seemed so strange. Phone lines were, unfortunately, down for the moment, as the wooden phone lines of old, too, were mercilessly prayed upon. Richie gazed outside his window. His rightfully pure-hearted eyes were wide as his jaw hung open, stunned to see God hurling small golf balls at earth. A moment to laugh at the thought...he imagined this Charleton Heston-like fellow in scarlet and gold and jewels galore, going into some god-awful conniption fit, tossing bucket after bucket of golf balls right for his hometown.
A mighty bolt flashed and made the city, for a split second, look like afternoon, its form was almost as lithesome and majestic as Grace Kelly in a white satin dress.
God had taken an acre of oxygen and ripped it in two.
Whoa, Richie thought, spring housecleaning in the world above!
But little did he or any Milwaukeean realize...that the housecleaning...had only begun to begin.
Chapter 2
Milwaukee was ravaged.
Firm buildings were tattered like the frayed end of a broken branch the morning after. Telephone lines were temporarily down (much to the dismay of many teen girls in town, including a lamenting Joanie) , Power lines were down, very few TV antennas had survived. Milk was still being delivered, thank goodness, and the town was certainly bustling for such supplies as food, water, diapers, and whatever they could stock up on.
As for Arnold's, it was built on quite a stronger foundation and it was lucky to have power, but nevertheless it itself had taken quite a lot of battle scars. While many of their respective family members were stockpiling at the market, Richie and friends were chitchatting inside the wounded Arnold's. "Holy Toledo, did you see all that happened last night?" "Yeah!", Warren (a.k.a. Potsie) Weber laughed. "It was cool!" The teens were in high spirits about the incident, unlike the adults they lived with.it was one of the most interesting things that ever happened to them in their town since they were kids. "Did you see that stuff going on?" laughed Ralph. "Man, it was rainin' golf balls!" "I liked it when the lightning flashed. It looked like daytime!" Potsie exclaimed.
Though the teens were enjoying their conversation, Richie was considerably uneasy. "I dunno, guys, I mean really.this just isn't hailstorm weather we're having, I mean, it's just so unusual to have a hailstorm this time of year." "What are you complaining about, Rich?" asked Potsie. "It's the most exciting thing that's ever happened to this town. Buildings practically leveled to the ground, power lines down, trees beaten to a pulp, hide the cattle, hide Fonzie's Harley, everybody's freakin' out Nothing exciting happens around here anymore unless one of us goes on a panty raid." "I don't know guys. I just feel something strange is about to go on.something just isn't right." Fonzie entered Arnold's carrying his Harley-- whom he'd named Her Majesty of Portugal-- which was salvaged just in time, only taking a sky bullet to its front light, carried like a soldier on his arm. He was not amused. "Would somebody please tell me why it was raining freakin' golf balls last night?" he asked.
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