This is my Friday Fictioneers submission for September 5th 2014. Thanks to Rochelle Wishoff Fields for the photo (and, of course, for running the challenge every week).
I’m sure this one’s well over the 100 words and there’s a risk some of the references won’t resonate outwith the UK or with anyone under the age of 35 but this was all I could think of.
The trouble with attending a Satanic Mass is that one never quite knows what to bring. Wine seems an obvious choice, but I’ll never forget my embarrassment when I brought a cheeky bottle of Chardonnay and discovered the sacrificial lamb was, quite literally, a sacrificial lamb. The High Priest has never looked at me the same way since. Flowers, too, are out because of the shocking preponderance of Hay Fever amongst we worshippers of Beelzebub. We would take antihistamines but their soporific effect doesn’t make for a good mix when naked flames are involved. At one stage, taking a loaf of artisan bread looked to be an answer but it only upset the High Priest. Turn’s out he’s on a Gluten Free diet. Nowaday’s I take Ferrero Rocher. They’re crispy, creamy and the perfect accompaniment to an evening of malevolent incantations.
Crispin, will this do?.
It’s a bit edgy, Giles. Best stick with the one about the Ambassador. I wouldn’t want to lose another account after that Hoover debacle.