A Mysterious Visitor

Black Magic pushed back the hood of her fabulously funky faux fox fur so that her dusky cheekbones fell into the light. She pressed a bejeweled finger to her shimmering Revloned lips. "SH!" she insisted in a low whisper. "No one must know I am here." She gripped the edge of the hood and pulled it forward again, casting her face back into enigmatic shadows.

Oh puh-lease, Shandalier thought, I simply don't have the time for Black Magic's amateur Mata Hari theatrics. Come to think of it, she realised, she never would, and certainly not since she accidentally discovered that Black Magic, Sassy Palms' resident nigress, started out life as Nigel Blick, born to a Koori half-blood and some Pakistani tourist with an excessive fondness for garlic and Fosters. "Black Magic," Shandalier said, "now's just not a good time. Perhaps if I called you in the morn--"

Black Magic thrust out a size 11 Manolo Blahnik knock-off and prevented Shandalier from closing her front door. "We must speak!" she demanded.

Shandalier made a dramatic show - one that Helen Keller couldn't miss - of looking at her watch. Nobody knew of the occasional assignations between she and the impossibly handsome Franklyn and that situation must not change. Jealous accusations of favouritism would fly across the stage thicker than the faux fog during Margot Bourgeois' "I Will Survive" number. Plus, if one of those bitches knew just how glorious Franklyn's abs were to the touch, they'd all want a piece of that action. Franklyn was due at Shandalier's door within moments. Should Black Magic see him, there would be hell to pay, not to mention the probable end of their furtive bonkings. "Really, Magic, whatever it is--"

"I have a certain article of clothing."

Shandalier stared into Black Magic's unblinking, Dior-lined orbs. Reluctantly she swung open her front door and watched as Black Magic catwalked into her spacious loft. "What have you got?" she asked breathlessly.

Black Magic whirled around like a skilled dervish. "It is pink."

Shandalier's eyes narrowed. "What shade?"

"Officially I believe it's known as Summer Solstice Samoan Sunset pink. There is a narrow waistband, darker in colour, more of a Mid-Winter Devonshire Rambling rose. Oh, and there's a stain right where--" Black Magic lowered her double-false eyelashes discreetly. "Well, let's just say there's a stain..."

Magic had described Shandalier's missing knickers perfectly. "Where did you get them?" she hissed.

But Black Magic remained silent as she opened her brazilian tropicale rainforest waterfall-fern green Mandarina Duck knock-off shoulder bag and withdrew Shandalier's secret Victoria's Secret. "I want to make a deal," Black Magic twirled the panties from a bony finger. "In exchange for these incriminating pair of evidences, I want you to demote Iva and give the role of the Sassy Palm's lead drag queen...to MOI."

"You're not half the drag queen that Iva is!"

"And you have no idea what I am capable of. I WANT THAT SPOTLIGHT!"

Just then came two knocks, a pause then one knock: the irresistibly handsome Franklyn's secret "I'm here and I'm horny" knock.

"I need you to do me a favour," Shandalier said.

But Black Magic sneered. "I am not in the mood for favours."

Shandalier pointed at a glossy white door. "If you want the lead spotlight at Sassy Palms you'll go into that bathroom and not come out until I have gotten rid of whoever this is."

Franklyn knocked again. Black Magic pursed her lips and then spun on her cheap heels. "You've got three minutes."

When she opened the door, Shandalier found Franklyn already shirtless. His round, firm pecs, sprayed lightly with a dusting of feather soft hair, shone invitingly in the moonlight. "Oh baby," he groaned, "Frankie needs his sugar."

But Shandalier pressed a hand to a hard, squared shoulder. "I'm sorry", she whispered, " Massive headache."

Frankly held up his broad hands. "Massage!"

"No, really, tonight isn't--"

A high-pitched shriek sliced through the night air. "What the hell was that?" Franklyn was through the doorway before Shandalier could stop him. In several manly strides he crossed over to Shandalier's bathroom and burst open the door. Shandalier heard Franklyn gasp. "It's Black Magic! And she is........."