Relocated for working purposes
This short could have gone to "Facebook Articles Written for the Times", where my shorts usually go. But as this relates to "Good Omens" and not to the Discworld, better it gets added as a short in its own right.
Inspired by a photo taken on a German autobahn, where a car driver was cut up by a sinister-looking black sports car being driven at speed and with cavalier disregard for other road users. Its registration number was simply 666. It prompted this short.
Sorry if my tales have been thin on the ground lately. Suffering from poor health, a job from Hell that is getting more and more burdensome, and a bout of depression that brought everything to a full stop – the bloody job paid well enough, but sucked the life out of me and meant I could not focus at all on the two things I find most pleasurable in life, writing and crafting/art work.
Its's getting better.
I actually bought a set of new paintbrushes today!
New episodes of the two active tales, "Strandpiel 2" and "Alexandra: making of an Air Witch2 will soon follow. And that is a promise!
Thanks for understanding and I do undferstand people have been pressing for new stuff. Just haven't been in a position to deliver, but hopefully this drought is over.
In this tale, an Angel and a Demon discuss Current Affairs around the world (October 2022). Which in themselves are profoundly depressing. Hope black humour helps.
"You realise, Crowley, that to keep an eye on you I'm going to have to move to GERMANY?" Aziraphile demanded. "That's a serious inconvenience. I'm going to have to get used to speaking German, for one thing. And believe me, that is not the tongue of Angels."
Crowley grinned.
"It could be worse, Angel. I could have opted for Maastricht. Flemish? You know? Sort of Dutch, only worse?"
The Angel shuddered.
"And then there's Afrikaans..." Crowley added, thoughtfully. "You know, according to the Agreement you owe me one. You sponsored Nelson Mandela, after all."
"Thought you'd been there." the angel said, in surprise. "The heirs of Nelson Mandela haven't kept to the same standard at all. Political corruption, racial tensions, and now this ghastly load-shedding business..."
"Not me, Angel. They did all that by their little selves. And as for load-shedding, the British are going to know all about that by Christmas."
Crowley sighed a satisfied smile.
"There's really no point in me staying in London, Angel. One half of the British population hates the other half after Brexit and the feeling is mutual. I got a Depreciation for Brexit, did I tell you? Living standards are dropping. Prices going up. People are going to get covetous for what they have, envious of what they can't get any more, greedy for things which suddenly are luxuries, they're either proud for having brought it about because they're British and therefore exceptional, or else proud because they're cleverer than the idiots who voted for Brexit, and they'll all end up despairing because it's gone pear-shaped."
Crowley took a sip of his wine. He grinned again.
That's six out of eight,1(1) Angel. Spread over nearly sixty million people. Downstairs is quite pleased."
Aziraphile snorted.
"Hmmph. At least you haven't found a way to incorporate gluttony, sloth or lust."
"Don't be so sure, Angel. I did invent Babe Station and OnlyFans. And food porn shows on TV".
There was a tense pause.
"So. Why Germany?" Aziraphile asked, not wanting to hear the possible answers.
Crowley grinned.
"Oh, we haven't been there since, when was it, 1945? 2(2) The Germans have reinvented themselves since and become a prosperous, hard-working, well-educated people who are contented, happy, and at peace with themselves. Below asked me what I propose to do about that. Made a start the other week, when I blew a hole in that gas pipeline. Pollution was a great help there. War's walking on air. She pointed out the Germans are blaming the Russians, the Russians are blaming the Americans, and nobody really knows who was responsible. She can do a lot with that, she said."
"Oh." the angel said. "She's around. Why am I not surprised?"
"Got a postcard from Kiev." Crowley said. "She's based down there for a little while. Working holiday, she said."
There was another taut pause.
And on top of that, gas shortages in Germany. It's that "load-shedding" thing again. The South Africans didn't know what they started there."
Crowley sipped his wine again.
"Put the Bentley into storage for now." he said. "Classic British car, right-hand-drive, too conspicuous in Germany. Got a new car, one that's better for the autobahns. Fancy a ride?"
Aziraphile sighed, resignedly. At least there were lots of openings for booksellers in Germany… he could get premises just off the Mitte, perhaps. Somewhere central, but secluded…
1 (1) Crowley had heard of The Seven Deadly Sins. He'd met them, in fact, at a works social But he considered only having seven was demonstrating a lack of commitment and imagination, and was bang alongside the Orthodox Churches on this one, who maintained there were in fact Eight: Pride, Greed, Wrath, Envy, Lust, Gluttony, Sloth, and Despair. Crowley had commiserated with Despair, who was not surprised she had been dropped from the generally acknowledged team. She had sighed a deep sonorous sigh, and said "Only to be expected, really. Can't ho… H-word… for anything else, can you?"
2 (2) Now go to my earlier Good Omens tale set in Austria and Germany in the earlier part of the 20th Century, The Viennese Job.
