Stave 3:
~The Second of the Transcendental Troublemakers~

It was just past one when Roger was awakened by a strange sound. It sounded a bit like...smacking. Sitting bolt upright in bed he found himself confronted with a most disturbing sight. Sitting in his favorite arm chair was Casey Jenkins...or Angel rather. She was wearing a pink sequined party dress that left very little to the imagination, and was chewing noisily on Roger's jellybeans which she had apparently stollen from under his mattress.

"Hey! My jellybeans!" Roger suddenly felt very, very old. He had spent weeks getting a stomach ache eating bags and bags of jellybeans just to hoarde his favorite: the coveted red cherry ones. Now he'd have to start again.

Startled, Angel looked up and smiled a smile that just kept on going. "Come in man. Come in and know me better."

Roger had the suspicious feeling that she wanted him to come in and know her better in the Biblical sense of the word, so he stayed firmly on his bed. "Are you the second of the spirits that -"

"Please, Mr. Smith, living-impaired. Yes, I am the living-impaired personage of Heaven's Day Present."

"Oh." Roger was at a loss for words, and he couldn't help but thinking that Dorothy would be VERY happy to know that Angel was living-impaired. "Ah..Angel, how did you get to be...er..."

"Oh, transcendental?" She blushed and laughed, tossing her curls in a girlish manner. "Yes, well. Let's just say SOME things weren't meant to be plugged into wall outlets." With that, she rose and shuffled towards Roger. "Shall we go? I have much to show you."

He shied away from her and scowled, "What have I done wrong this Heaven's Day?"

Angel smirked, "Well Mr. Paradigm City Negotiator, you turned your girlfriend into a stove."

"She's not my - "

"And Norman, let's not forget Norman."

"But I let him leave earl -"

"And Roger, I KNOW you didn't make this month's payment to Save the Children. Poor Inga will have to make twice as many sneakers."

"Here now, that's hitting below the belt!"

Angel sighed. "Well come on then let's start with Norman."

Roger was confronted with a scene of just earlier that day. Norman was scratching at his ledgers, when the earlier-that-day Roger plopped a box down on the writing table. "Happy Heaven's Day Norman."

"Master Roger, you shouldn't have." Norman opened the box and turned out a small burnished key in his left hand. "A key sir?"

Roger smiled and puffed up like an angry blue bird. "The key to the *executive* men's room. For all your faithful years of service."

Norman was intensely greatful that Roger had given him a key to the executive men's room as he had previously not had a key to ANY men's room. However, the rosebushes had never looked better. "Master Roger, thank you very much, and a happy Heaven's Day to you as well."

"See? I gave him a present." Roger felt pleased with himself and thought that he had done a rather fine thing.

"It wasn't the key to the men's room Roger. It was the key to the downstairs cabinet. And you KNOW which cabinet I mean."

Roger grimaced and poked his toe hard into his slippers. "It was an honest mistake."

"Roger. That's the cabinet with the Disney movies in it. You really are too cruel."

Roger frowned fiercely. "And if these shadows remain unchanged?"

Angel shook her head sadly. "I see Norman being treated for severe frost-bite in the near future. But your rosebushes just look smashing!"

"Enough!" Roger cried in sheer torment. "Show me no more!" In his anxiety he pushed Angel away and covered his face.

"Hey! My hair! My DRESS! This is designer....DESIIIIIIIIIIIIGNER!!!!!!!!!!!!!" With that the second of the transcendental troublemakers disappeared in a whirl of transcendental dust.

Roger again found himself upstairs in his darkened room, where he crept under the covers to await the last of his visitors.