Flaming Batons

Dirk laid a manly hand on Shandy's silken thigh. "Are you okay?" he asked in a low voice.

"Well," Shandy responded, "I'd be better if your hand was about 8 inches up from where it is right now..."

"He means are you okay emotionally, you one-track-minded old whorebag," Carmene griped.

"Go suck the Razz stain out of ya Target jumpsuit, will ya?" Shandy threw towards the back of Dirk's shaggin' wagon.

"Ladies," Dirk said, using a term that barely applied to anyone inside his vehicle, "there are questions here that need answering."

"You're right, my darling," Shandy said as she furtively guided Dirk's warm hand northwards. "Go on. Don't stop."

"So, these Cottonwood people. When was the last time you saw them?"

Shandy tapped a perfectly mani'd index finger to her chin and thought for a bit. "Hmmm, okay, that would be...oh yeah...the finals of the Miss Boiling Springs 1987 Beauty Pageant."

"Did ya win?" Iva asked.

"Are you kidding?" Shandy replied, "I was a guaranteed shoo-in."

"How come?" the Razz-splattered Carmene wanted to know. "Were you the only contestant?"

But Shandy chose to ignore the sarcasm dripping from Carmene's thin lips like the Dirk Juice she was hoping would be dripping from hers in the not-too-distant future. Instead she encouraged Dirk's hand another inch along. "There were six of us but I may as well have been the only one there. Let me tell you, I was on fire that night. I had it all going on. My hair was glossy, freshly tinted with Lancome Malibu Blonde highlights. And huge! Man, it was bigger than that plastic pig outside the Boiling Springs Piggly Wiggly Supermarket. And let me tell you, that porker was HUGE! And I had slimmed down to my lowest weight but miraculously my tits were as perky as ever in my stun-wah Diane Von Furstenberg aqua bamboo bandeau 'Flamingo' swimsuit. And I twirled my flaming baton like nobody's business. Twenty feet in the air, thirty feet, forty feet - the audience gasped at my every move; I had them in the palm of my hands. I was unstoppable!"

"Not that this story isn't positively riveting," Iva cut through Shandy's vivid evocation of her triumph de beauté , "but could we get to the part where you see the Cottonwoods for the last time...? Some of us have...uh...places to go."

Shandy looked around to see Iva nestled deep into the cleft between Saul's impressive pecs. "Fair enough," Shandy winked to Iva. "Anyways us six finalists were lined up along the stage and the pageant's MC - Bernard Wedgie, he owned Boiling Spring's Piggly Wiggly and was its major sponsor so he got to do whatever he wanted - he walked onto the stage with the envelope which contained the winner's name.

"He was just about to proclaim me as the winner when suddenly there was this god almighty scuh-ream from the audience. I looked out across the Boiling Springs Rotary Pavillion carpark - that's where we held the Miss Boiling Springs pageant every year on account of the flaming batons - and I spotted my mother standing in the 5th row, pointing at me and scuh-reaming "That's Delwood! That's my son, Delwood!" Next to her was my father trying to shoosh her down. But she wouldn't stop. "Delwood! Delwood! What have you done to yourself?!"

"They didn't know you'd had had the op?" Iva asked, her fingers raking the inside of Saul's shirt.

"I was going to tell them, right after my triumphant crowning as Miss Boiling Springs. Nobody ain't won nothin' in our family before. I was going to be the first and I was going to nab the greatest prize in Boiling Springs."

"You mean bigger than Best Parsip at the county fair?" Carmene tittered.

Shandy could have walloped her one good and proper right from where she was sitting but she chose instead to be a lady...and to slide Dirk's hand another inch towards her tingly zone. "Anyway," she sniffed, "someone leaked the details of my spectacular transformation to my mother. I was mortified. Completely mortified in front of the whole town. I picked up the hem of my satin ball gown with the bugle-beaded bolero jacket and ran right off the stage. I didn't stop running until I was five and half miles beyond the Boiling Springs City Limits. And I never went back. But what has that got to do with anything?"

"I have a inking," Dirk responded. "Don't you think it's strange that Clare Voyant could know something about your own family that you don't?" The tip of his index finger wormed its way inside the hem of Shandy's pink-raspberry coloured Victoria's Secret Brazilian Cut Stretch Lace Panties. Thank God I wore the good stuff tonight, Shandy thought to herself, I'm a toey after all this excitement and clearly Dirk wants to slip me a length. And oh my heavens above, what a length it is too. Ooooh...I can't wait until we drop these slags off at...no, wait, did someone just ask me something...?

"Say what?" Shandy asked innocently.

"Give me your box," Dirk demanded abruptly.

"Oooo..." Shandy gurgled, "I love it when---hey, what are you doing?"

Dirk swiftly withdrew his hand from the inside of her lap. "The box you took from Clare Voyant. Give to me."

Mystified, Shandy handed over the heavily bejeweled box. Saul and Carmene leaned forward to see what Dirk was up to. Even Iva came up for some air. Dirk took the box from Shandy and opened it again. He thrust his hand inside and he groped around for something. Shandy had no idea what Dirty Dirkie was up to but she eyed it all enviously.

"Ah ha!" Dirk muttered. "Just as I thought."

"What?" all three queens queried in unison.

"This thing has a false bottom."

"It ain't the only one in this car with one of those," Iva commented before descending into the shadows of the back seat once more.

Dirk pulled out a thin sheet of wood and handed it to Shandy, and then reached back inside and pulled out a thick envelope.

"Oh dear god," Shandy exclaimed, "This must have been what Clare was referring to when she said that if the contents of that box gets out, she was ruined. Open it up!" she told Dirk. "Open it up and tell what's there."

Dirk did exactly that and studied the top sheet of paper. "It's a travel itinerary," he said, "For flights to Melbourne, arriving last week."

"Well, that's not surprising," Shandy said. Her tingly zone was starting to miss the warmth of Dirk's touch. "She's been wizzing all round the world scooping up drag queens to star at Destination Dung Heap. I bet she even flew Business Class. I should have burned down her mansion while I had the chance, I hate her and everything she sits on."

"No my darling, this isn't an itinerary for Clare Voyant. It's for someone named Miss Cashmere Dupree."

"WHAT?" Shandy screeched and ripped the paper out of Dirk's hands. Oh no! Not Cashmere Dupree!

"What sort of name is Cashmere Dupree?" Carmene wanted to know. "Sounds like a drag queen to me. I take it you know who that is?"

"Oh yes, indeed I do," Shandy declared. "Miss Cashmere Dupree was my arch enemy. The girl would stop at nothing from grabbing the Miss Boiling Springs crown from my deserving hands. It was SHE who told my mother about my secret op. It was SHE who ruined my life. And worst of all, it was SHE who won the Miss Boiling Springs title that year."

"And that's not all," Dirk continued, looking at the next sheet of paper in the pile in his hands. "This is a bank statement for Destination Drag Queen. And it shows a bank-to-bank transfer for one million dollars, dated last month."

"WHAT?" Shandy screeched and ripped the second sheet of paper out of Dirk's hands. It was true: someone had transfered a cool mill into DDQ's bank account. And it originated from the First National Bank of Boiling Springs. "I can't believe this is happening. After all these years, Cashmere Dupree is still out to destroy me! Why me? Why me?"

"There's more," Dirk said. Shandy turned to Dirk and, through her tears, she saw him looking at the next piece of paper in the pile he'd withdrawn from the envelope. "This here is a hotel confirmation. It's for the Grand Hyatt; a two-bedroom suite for this whole month."

"Who's name is the suite booked in?" Iva asked despite the fact she clearly had a full mouth.

"There are two names," Dirk replied. "One is Miss Cashmere Dupree."

"And the other?" Iva asked, or at least attempted to ask. It came out more like "A E O-O?"

"The other name is Miss Prissy Louella Cottonwood."

Everyone in the car gasped simultaneously, except for Iva who let out more of a gagging sound from down near the floor of the back seat.

"Hit it, Dirk my darling." Shandy commanded.

"Hit what?" He slid his hungry fingers back inside the hem of Shandy's Victoria Secret and foraged into her tingly zone. But she brushed it away.

"My greatest arch enemy and a twin sister I never knew I had are sharing a suite at the Grand Hyatt at this very moment. I want to know why and I want to know NOW!!!"

Let The Blood Run Free

Carmene was screeching like a banshee, her arms were flailing uncontrollably. "Ive been shot - I'm dying, dying do you hear me. Oh farewell cruelle cruelle worldddd"

Everyone was now in a state of shock, screaming and crying - except of course for Dirk who was used to maintaining one's composure in a crisis.

"Carmene, stop, stop, let me see" shouted Dirk

"No, no - its too late" shrieked Carmene

Dirk took control, he pinned Carmene down. "Shandy, help me, whilst I hold her, check her out, where is she wounded".

Shandy rushed to Carmene's side, noting the blood was staining her hip region which was being obscured by a rather cheap and tawdry faux Chanel quilted white vinyl shoulder bag. Pulling it aside she had a closer look.

"Ummmm the "blood" seems to be oozing from your handbag not your body darlin"

Quickly unzipping it Shandy gasped in relief. "You stupid, stupid queen, what the hell are you doing with a Razz in your bag"

"WHAT" replied Carmene. Its my Razz. I'm not shot, I'm not dying"

"Unfortunately not" replied Iva

"Oh well thats ok then" said Carmene sitting up and snatching her bag. Opening it whilst cursing under her breath she plucked a tissue from within and lamely tried to dab the stain off her 100% synthetic frock. "I got at the 7 Eleven to have later if you must know"

"Don't ever pull a stunt like that again you dumb moll" said Iva

"Why don't you shut your face - bitch"

"Enough" said Dirk "You are all extremely lucky to get away with your lives. Claire is not to be messed with, she is a very dangerous woman. Shandy I cannot believe you thought up this scheme. Its bad enough endangering yourself, but to involve others is fool hardy".

Shandy flicked her hair nervously, trying to conceal her embarrassment. Dirk was right, what was she thinking.

"I'm so sorry - I don't know what I was thinking. I was just so angry" said Shandy trying to look Dirk in the eye.

He reached for her hand "I don't know what I would have done if I'd lost you"

Everyone fell into silence.

"OH MY GAWDDDDD" said Iva "What about that box. Whats in it"

Shandy had a suspicion. Rummaging in her hand bag she located the key, the key that had fallen from the smashed Penis of Morty Hempel.

"NO - do you think it will open the box" said Carmene in a non believing tone

"Not sure - I just have a hunch"

She put the key into the lock - turning it gently as it went click.

Shandy looked at everyone "Its opened it, I don't believe it, shit".

As she lifted the lid, the jewels glistened seductively.

"Whats in there, what is it" said Iva

"For chrissakes Iva give the woman a second" snapped Carmene "So whats in there".

"Its an envelope, thats it"

Iva rolled her eyes "Open it for gods sake"

Shandy's hands shook as she peeled open the envelope. Inside was a single peice of paper.

"Let me see, whats this all about. It looks like some sort of certificate" Her eyes flashed over the document "How bizarre, its a birth certificate. FUCK - its my birth certificate" Shandy flushed with nerves as she studied it closely.

"Read it out" said Iva

"Its embarrassing - its got my birth name, my male name. Oh well, I don't have any secrets. Its got my fathers name Augustus William Cottonwood"

"COTTONWOOD" snickered Carmene. Shandy raised an eyebrow, she stopped instantly.

Shandy continued "And my mum, Bessie Eudola Cottonwood and there is my name Delwood Hickory Cottonwood"

This time everyone broke into laughter, Dirk included. Shandy shot him a glare

Dirk tried to stop laughing "Delwood!"

"Enough you lot, thats a respectable Southern name I will have you all know" hmph "Wait" Shandy said "There's more, hang on, what? There is another name - geezus - get out of town"

"WHAT" said everyone in unison

"It seems I have a twin sister, a certain person by the name of Prissy Louella Cottonwood"

Shandy dropped the paper - she was gazing blankly not knowing what to make of it all. So many unanswered questions. Why did she not know of this sister. Did her parents give her up for adoption. Was she alive. Where did she live and most importantly - what was Claire doing with the birth certificate.

The Secrets Within

The sound of Clare's voice shocked everyone in the tiny, darkened room. They spun around to see the pseudo psychic psycho standing in the doorway that Shandy had been groping earlier. In Clare's hand Shandy could make out a lady-sized silver revolver, its side panels inlaid with the most darling sheaths of jade. Clare raised it to chest level.

"Now," she whispered harshly, "speaking of dropping dead..."

Iva, Camene and Shandy gasped, this was some serious sheep shit going down. As glamorous as the surrounds of that couture-laden walk-in wardrobe was, there was no way Iva was going to kiss her jugs of steel goodbye here.

Saul and Iva glanced at each other, it was but a moment but their eyes communicated something to each other that words could not express. The understanding that flickered under Iva's Haute-Couture Socialite Collection Bloodsuckingly Black mascara-laden eyelashes was in total sync with the thoughts jumping to the forefront of Saul's manly brow-
THIS BITCH IS GOING DOWN AND WE'RE GOING TO TAKE HER.

Shandy and Carmene crawled for cover, hiding behind a collection of stunning furs. Shandy fought hard to concentrate on the life-and-death situation unfolding in front of her eyes while simulteanously soothingly stroking Clare's majestic badger stole. In the smoothest of ass-kicking swipes Iva lifted her Gerbe-stockinged leg (French) and pointed her nude-blonde stiletto clad size 11 directly at the silver pistol. At the exact same moment Saul dived directly at Clare. Saul's manly frame was too much for the rather mediocre medium and Iva's size 11 proved to be quite a bit stronger than the girly grip Clare had on her puny pistol. Clare lurched to the ground in the most undignified fashion, falling clumsily while exposing a rather large portion of her ample plumber's cleavage. There was a single piercing sound of a shot being fired and much commotion.

Saul leapt to his feet and offered his hand to Iva, "Let's split Sweetheart."

Iva offered him her sexiest smirk and slapped her hand into his. Their hands met, as their eyes had done earlier, forging a connection in the dark and a moment that would ensure gunpowder was an aphrodisiac for both of them for years to come. There was something firm and pulsing between them...

"Jesus, move over you two and let's get out of here." Shandy had found herself bowled over and in the thick of the scrum, her pace pressed into Saul's pulsing manhood and the back of her head nestled in Iva's throbbing mound.

The two tore themselves apart and pulled Shandy to her feet.

"She's out cold," Shandy said referring to Clare Voyant, who lay sprawled in a cartoon-character fashion on the ground.

"Let's split," Saul said pushing the door open.

Saul burst through the door, unaware that the frail and pansyesque Wil was on the other side, having crept up on his health-stockinged feet to peek in at the commotion. Saul sent him flying, knocking Wil and his Doctor Scholl's out at the same time.

Iva and Saul high-fived each other and began to hug.

"Get a room later you pair of fuckstruck randy-rooters," Shandy uttered as she hustled between them, "We need to split this popsicle stand before Rip Van Winkle and Sleeping Beauty wake up to us."

Iva looked down at her hand, still holding the hideous bejewelled hood, she turned and dropped it on Wil's crumpled body, "Bitch, please!" She uttered as she turned to make her escape.

The three ran down the stairs before Iva paused, "But where's Carmene?" She looked frantically around.

"It's ok I'm coming," Carmene was clambering down the stairs holding something bulky.

They flew outside and out of the high security gates just in time to see a white security van pull up outside the house. They paused, this was it, they were caught red-handed breaking, entering and making poor-taste jokes in the home of their rival. The tinted window came down and the rear doors of the van burst open. A face appeared in the window, it was Dirk, the suavest thing to hit the police force since Jimmy Smits.

"Jump in gang," He ordered.
"What are you doing?" Shandy screamed as she clamoured into the back of the van.
"Just saving your arses...again." He called as the doors swung shut and the van sped off.

The foursome in the back took a moment to catch their breath. They had all seen some crazy shit in their times, whether it be the half-man half-horse that lived in the wild bushland in the back of Boiling Springs, or the gang of Aryan Neo-Nazi's who ruled Cell Block H where Saul had been incarcerated or even a trumpet-playing landlady with a collection of plaster penises - but this day would certainly go down in their shared history as a fucking close-call.

There was a lound bang as Carmene pulled something onto the stormtrooper style seats in the rear of the van.

"What's that?" Shandy asked looking at the jewel-encrusted box Carmene had slapped onto the spartan seat.

Carmene turned to Saul, "I was hoping you could tell me."

Saul slid his hands over the lid, it was inlaid with precious gems, glistening diamonds, rich-red rubies and a rather hideous huge opal in the centre.

"I think this is it," Saul uttered, "Pass me the key."

Shandy pulled the key from between her rather massive not-so-grassy knolls where she had snuggled it for safe keeping.

Saul slid the key into the lock, turned it gently and they were so silent that every one of them heard the faint click as the box was unlocked and the lid was opened.

Suddenly there was a scream, Dirk swerved the van as the sound of pain shuddered from the back of the van. It was Carmene, she was looking down at herself and she was completely covered in blood.

Caught in Crazed Clare's Calloused Clutches

With that they could hear the sound of a car pulling into the driveway. Speading the curtains Iva screamed "Fuck, fuck, its Clare, she's back".

"What do you mean, you crazy bitch?" Shandy demanded. "It can't be Clare. She only just left a few minutes ago."

Iva peered back through the window. "Exactly how many vermilion coloured Audi's do you think they made?" Iva replied with unnecessary sarcasm.

Shandy and Carmene joined Iva at the window and stood transfixed as Clare Voyant and Will van Pill pulled themselves out of Clare's slut-red vehicle. "Shut up!" Clare screamed at her so-called business manager. "Just shut the fuck UP!" She slammed shut the door and started making her way towards the front of the house.

"Oooo-arrr!" Carmene sing-songed under her breath, "somebody's not hap-py!"

As much as she wanted to hear the rest of this conversation, Shandy knew that it was time to get the hell out of this monument to the taste of the nouveau riche. "Follow me," she told her two sequined sidekicks. She led them back to the top of the stairs. On their way in she'd spotted a closet under the curving stairway that led up to Clare's boudoir. If they could just discretely ensconce themselves in there for the time being, they could easily slip out the front door after Clare had kicked Will van Pill out and gone to bed.

But Shandy had underestimated Clare Voyant's ability to negotiate treacherous gravel in four-inch crocodile suede Salvatore Ferragamo mules. They had only started down the stairs when Clare's front door swung open.

"HOW COULD YOU LOSE THAT KEY???" Clare bellowed like a banshee in nipple clamps. She was so distracted that she failed to see Shandy, Iva and Carmene retreat into her white-on-white-on-white bedroom.

"Where can we hide? Where can we hide?" Iva and Carmene wailed in unison.

"The walk-in closet!" Shandy pushed her cohorts into Clare's jam-packed closet and closed the door behind them just as Clare threw open her boudoir doors with a clang.

"You are such an imbecile!" Clare hissed at Will. "I trusted you with that key. You know what that box holds. Anyone who has that key and locates the box, holds my life, my entire FUTURE in their hands." The three glittering glamourpusses heard Clare wrench off her Black Brazilian Bombshell Ferragamos and hurl them across to the other side of the room. "If the contents of that box gets out, I am ruined. RUINED!"

"It can't have gone far," Will van Pill was trying hard to pacify the unpacifyable. "It's bound to turn up. These things always do."

"We're not talking about some lost eyelash curlers, you whacked-out whackjob. Do you understand that I cannot open DDQ without access to the contents of that box? Without that key, DDQ is history before it's even opened."

"But that means nobody will see my spectacular finale: KEBAB'S KRAZY KAVALCADE. Donna's going to be devastated."

Shandy looked down at the pointy hood with the letters KKK spelled out in orange sequins. With all the excitement going on, she'd forgotten that she still had it in her hand.

"What sort of drag queen finale has pointy headwear with the letters KKK stitched on it?" Iva arksed.

"The clueless kind," Shandy replied and slung the hideous thing into the deepest recesses of the closet.

"Oh, why am I even bothering?" Clare hissed out. "You barely know what day it is. Why oh why did I trust you with something so important? Well, don't just stand there, fetch my dressing gown."

The three trembling trespassers looked at each other, their lips, lavished in L'Oreal Sheer Juicy Lip Gloss Number 7, parted in fear. "Quick!" Shandy told the others and they scampered down the walk-in closet to the far door. It was still open thank god. They shot through the door and closed it behind them.

Clare's crude conniption fits were a dull, muffled roar now. "We're safe for the moment," Shandy told her cohorts.

"Yeah, but for how long?" Iva asked. "I can feel my L'Oreal Sheer Juicy Lip Gloss Number 7 starting to wear off and you know how naked I feel without my lip gloss."

"Yeah," Carmene laughed, "and we know how you feel about being naked."

While her two gabbing girlfriends gaily giggled, Shandy made her way towards a thin crack of light that glowed softly from the far side of the rear room. She knelt down and ran her finger along it, then up one side. Why, it was a door! She felt around for a handle but found nothing. Nor was there a keypad like the one they used to get into this room with. Shit crap and double fuck! They were locked in!

Shandy pulled out her leopard skin print mobile phone and speed dialed the first name on the list. "Hel-Hello...?" the husky male voice answered, all low and breathy.

"Dirk my darling, tis moi," Shandy whispered into her phone.

"Oh baby, I've been waiting up for you," Dirk replied. "And when I say up, I mean UP."

"Oh darling, I'm in a terri--wait, what did you say?"

"I'm laying here, completely naked, horny as hell and hard as a rock. Where have you been, baby? I don't think I can hold off much longer."

"Oh Dirk, you dirty, dirty boy. So you're naked, huh?" Shandy pictured Dirk's rippling body etched with moonlight, his broad pecs, sprayed with silky hair, panting in the soft glow of the vanilla-scented candles he always lit whenever they made their brand of wild, animal love. Then she couldn't help but let her mind wander down past the love trail that led from his navel to his spectacular gob-choker. Oh how she longed to lick its shaft and tease its ripe, firm head.

"What are you wearing?" Dirk asked in a low groan. "Is it lacy? Delicate? Will I be able to rip it from your body with one almighty roar?"

Shandy couldn't help herself but let out an orgasmic gasp. "As a matter of fact, I'm wearing-" But then a bothersome tap on her shoulder completely shattered the mood.

"I'm sorry," Iva said, although Shandy could tell that she wasn't sorry in the slightest, "but could you put Phone Sex Phil on hold long enough to for me to remind you that we're in a bit of a pickle here...?"

Shandy ha-a-a-ted to admit it but Iva had a point. Reluctantly she cut her luscious lover off mid stroke "Dirk. I have something I need to tell you."

"Does it involve patent leather and erotic ass-play?"

"No," Shandalier admitted reluctantly, "but I'll get back to you on that."

"What is it?" Dirk sounded worried now. But was he, Shandy couldn't help wondering, still granite hard...? "Where are you? I'll come and get you."

"I'm at Clare Voyant's," Shandy explained.

"She's taken you hostage?!"

"Mmmm...not exactly. I'm here with Iva and Carmene and we're ... well ... how should I put this? We've locked ourselves in a secret room at the back of her outrageously huge walk in closet. I've wanted a walk-in closet all my life but I never - and I mean NEVER - pictured one this big!"

"Shandalier, my sweet, are you saying that you trespassed into Clare Voyant's property and you broke into her house?"

Shandy let out a haughty sniff. "Well darling, if you put it like that it sounds tacky and I can assure you that I've not committed an act of tackiness since I was in the Miss Boiling Springs Beauty Pageant in 1978 and the judge offered...well, let's save that story for another time."

At that point Shandy heard a strange gurgling noise coming from somewhere behind her. "Shandy!" she heard Carmene's voice call out softly but urgently. "Oh Shandy, I think we have an emergency."

"I am quite aware that we're in trouble," Shandy retorted impatiently.

"It's Iva. She's having some sort of attack. I think it's the claustrophobia. She hates being squished up in small places like this. Even if it is filled with the most fabulous haute couture we've ever seen in all our live-long days."

Shandy peered through the couture-slathered semi-darkness to see Iva sprawled out on the Chilean silk shagpile; she was shaking like an artificial peacock feather. "Oh for god's sake," Shandy muttered, "Of all times to choose..." Then she heard Dirk's voice all out from her mobile phone. "Shandy? Shandy" Are you still there? Speak to me!"

But before she could respond, there was a series of soft beeps. By the 9th beep, Shandy realised that someone was pressing the keypad outside the door and was about to come in. Leaving poor convulsing Iva to fend for her own damn self, the other two dove behind a stack of devastatingly gorgeous Christian Lacroix numbers that made Shandy wish she'd brought a huge clutch purse.

A broad-shouldered, narrow-waisted figure filled the doorway in mysterious silhouette. Shandy held her breath. Carmene held her tits. "I know you're in there!" the manly man said.

"Wait!" Shandy whispered to Carmene who was holding onto her tits way longer than necessary. "I know that voice! I know that waist! I know those shoulders!" She stood up. "Saul? Is that you?"

"Yes," Morty's hard-bodied son replied. "It's me."

Shandy heard Carmene next to her positively gurgling with pleasure. "But how-?"

Saul stepped into the secret room. "I've been here all along," he explained. "Hiding amongst all the furs."

"That bitch has furs too?" Iva demanded. Apparently the sight of Saul's hulking frame had brought her out of her fit. "God I hate her."

"But why are you here?" Shandy asked.

"I don't have the key but I know what the box it opens looks like. I snuck in here to see if I could find it. It has everything. The bribes, the blackmailing, photos, confessions. You have no idea what Clare's been up to."

"Oh, but I think I can work it out," Shandalier responded. "Well guess what, my gorgeous little drop dead hunk of boy meat. We have the key. So let's join forces and together we can bring this motherfucker down!"

"I wouldn't be so quick to count my Versace g-strings if I were you."

The sound of Clare's voice shocked everyone in the tiny, darkened room. They spun around to see the pseudo psychic psycho standing in the doorway that Shandy had been groping earlier. In Clare's hand Shandy could make out a lady-sized silver revolver, its side panels inlaid with the most darling sheaths of jade. Clare raised it to chest level.

"Now," she whispered harshly, "speaking of dropping dead..."

War Of The Wigs

Shandy eyed both Imelda and Clare. Following an uncomfortable silence she spoke.


"Well, well, well Imelda, finally you have show your true colours and they are not the usual gawdy disastrous shades you are fond of, but more dark and murky, much like your character"


"Aw darrrrling" purred Imelda. "You no happy. Too baddd. Me no work for you no more. Clare, she like I, she say I do better than work at Sassy Palm, it dump".


"Why you Filipino PUTA" screamed Shandy


"Hey you know call me prostitoot. Anyway you the puta" Imelda flashed her heavily Maybellined eyes in Dirk's direction. "Me know what you do wit him, you scwoo him many time, I know dis ting"


"Imelda your full of crap honey, you have no idea what your sayin" snapped Shandy.

"Yes" interupted Dirk "Thats just more of your lies and stories"

"That so. What your boss tink darrling if he find out you throw leg over murder suspec, hmmmm, you in trouble, la"

Clare looked on throroughly savouring the momement. "Well" she said "Im sure you could to and fro all night, but its tawdry and boring and I have a gorgeous new club to open and that will soon be heaving with patrons, Sassy Palms patrons, oh and Shandy dear as you would say in your commonal ghetto speak - Ize gonna whoop yo ass".

The drag queens broke into maniacal laughter. Iva and Carmene looked on furious.


"So its time for you and your unattractive chaperones to leave"


"Not so fast" said Shandy smugly "I have something to show you Imelda".


"What it"


Shandy flipped open open her luscious Salvatore Ferragano Fondente Satchel, plucking out the blood read bead. "Look familiar darrrrrling" she said mocking Imelda "I believe its off your shoe and it was found on my bathroom floor, the very floor that Black Magic died upon"


Everyone turned - Imelda now the focus of everyone's attention, in particular the gap on her heel that was missing a bead.



"Why you murdering little mole" said Iva "It was you YOU, you killed her".


Imelda momentarily flustered "No, no, it not true, I kill no one"

Clare stepped forward looking Shandy in the eye. "And tell me angel were you alone when you found this riveting discovery"

"Well yes, why"

"Because my dear, you could well have planted it yourself. Ask your "boyfriend" as evidence its worthless"

Shandy looked to Dirk for support.

"Unfortunately its hear say, it would not stand up in a court of law" replied Dirk

Shandy shot him a disappointed look.

"Its as I thought. A futile excercise" replied Clare ever so smugly

"FUCK YOU" screamed Shandy


"Such vulgarity" responded Clare "You may pass yourself as a sophisticated glamourpuss, but sweetie your nothing but a picaninny from Boiling Springs and its time you people remembered where you stand in the pecking order"

"Clare I cannot believe you said that. Your nothing but a biggot"


"Well as scintilating a conversation as this is, its time for you to leave. Hysteria darling please show the riff raff to the door, the rear door" And with that Clare twirled and made a dramatic exit with Will scuffing behind her.

They could tell that Hysteria was not to be trifled with, so they followed the amazon to the door. Momements later in the alley out back, Iva piped up.

"Im so confused. Why is she doing this"


"Revenge, she holds a grudge our Clare" replied Shandy


"Doll do you think she has anything to do with the murder and the attempt on you" asked Carmene


"Not sure, all I know is that we need more evidence, especially against Imelda"


"But how do we do that" asked Iva


"Shandy your cooking up something" said Dirk looking slightly agitated.




Shandy rolled her luscious dior rimmed eyes "As if"

Dirk smirked "Im sorry about the Imelda thing Shandy, but that evidence is worthless. We all know she is guilty, but we need more"


"I could not be angry at you" she replied brushing his had discreetly.

"I need to go" said Dirk "I will call you later". That said he left.

Shandy wasted no time "Listen girls. You and I have a date tonight, we are breaking into Clare's joint to look for evidence. I have a gut feeling we will find something".


Iva stared blankly not quite believing whats she was hearing.


"Im serious. Iva, I know you can pick locks and I reckon I can deactivate the alarm. But I do not want Dirk finding out, so shut your traps".


"But"


"Zip it, we are so doing this"


Later that evening, outside Clare's home, but parked discreetly down the street, Shandy, Iva and Carmene sat waiting. Shandy was still trying to understand Iva's choice of ensemble, a lycra all in one leotard with hood.

"Fuck Iva who do you'all think you are - Cat Woman"


"Get stuffed. Its perfect attire for a stealth mission"


"Shhhhhhh" said Carmene slapping Iva's arm. "Look"


Clare's gates slid open and she emerged driving a luxurious vermillion Audi.


"That beeyotch has way too much money" grumbled Carmene peeking over the dashboard.


Shandy sprung into action whisking a retractable ladder from the boot. Leaning it against the high wall surrounding the house, she wasted no time in scurrying over, the plants breaking her fall. Iva and Carmene followed. The house was shrouded in darkness.

Now at the door, Shandy looked to Iva "Do you thing my sweet sistah".

Plucking a small tool from within her lycra suit she started tweeking the lock. After a few turns the door clicked. "Fuck Im good" gloated Iva. "I still have it".


Shandy paused momentarily. Taking a deep breath she turned the handle. The door was open. Instantly they heard the beeping of the alarm.

"Oh my god, oh my god" gasped Carmene nervously. "Now what".

Shandy spied the control panel - she quickly punched in 131-16-0237 followed by the OFF key. The beeping stopped.


"Geezus" said Shandy


Iva shot her a questioning look "Excuse me, but how the hell did you know the number"


"I didn't. I took a gamble. I just thought it could be the number on the key and it was"


"What is that key for, we still have no idea" replied Carmene

"Well girls there is no time to ponder on that, we have a house to search"

Running off in seperate directions the girls each started looking for something, anything that would help them incriminate Imelda or anyone for that matter. They could find nothing. Finally they arrived at the double doors to Clare's boudoir. Pushing them open they entered. The room was huge with no furniture except a large circular bed. Everything was white - the walls, the carpet and the furniture. The room flowed onto the bathroom - also white with a huge in ground tub overlooking a tranquil garden. This room opened onto the walk in wardrobe, which in fact was a room. On entering they all gasped, the room was lined with closets containing exquisite peices of clothing. Shandy noticed that much of it was haute couture. They could open all doors except one at the end of the room which was locked. Beside the door was a keypad. Once again, Shandy punched in the same number and the door slid open. At first they thought nothing of the contents, just more clothes.


"Honey, this must be her expensive shit" announced Iva


"It doesn't look that special to me" said Carmene


Wait! said Shandy, fingering the garments She gasped and pulled back.


"What is it darling, whats wrong" said Carmene, pulling out a peice of clothing. Its just a white cape with a matching hat thingie".


"No, no its not" said Shandy "Look"


"Whats this all about" said Iva.


The hat was in fact a pointy hood with 2 holes for eyes and across the frount of the cape were the letters KKK.


Carmene dropped it to the floor "Is Clare what I think she is"


"What" snapped Iva impatiently


"Clare is a member of the Ku Klux Klan"


With that they could hear the sound of a car pulling into the driveway. Speading the curtains Iva screamed "Fuck, fuck, its Clare, she's back".

Where there's a Will there's a Way!!

By Marcia Moorecock (special guest appearance).




Black Magic stood at the end of Shandy’s “Ceccotti” Mamma Li Turchi four poster bed.

“Clare and Will. Clare and Will” repeated Back Magic.

“They are comin for ya sista. They have somethin planned for you, somethin special. And it’s not wrapped in plastic. Plastic. Plastic. Plastic….

Shandy shuddered. Black Magic sounded like a stuck record but then continued.

“Course, you deserve everythin comin to ya sista. I am now nothin because of you. It’s all your fault”.

Black Magic was standing at the end of Shandy’s bed and apart from blurting out incoherent babble; she was holding a rather large carving knife that was dripping with blood. Black Magic now moved closer to Shandy and held the knife high above her head, the blood now dripping onto Shandy’s Arctic Blue “Frette” bed sheet. Black Magic let out a hysterical high-pitched laugh and plunged the blade towards Shandy’s chest.

Shandy awoke with a start.

She looked around the room anxiously and eyed her Silver Jacob Jensen Radio Alarm clock that had mysteriously sprung to life. The time was 2.37am and the last strains of Gloria Gaynors “I Will Survive” danced across her early morning haze. Shandy nervously hummed a few bars (as any self respecting Drag Queen would) and got out of bed.

“I should never have watched that “Twin Peaks” and “The Shinning” late night double on channel 10 last night,” thought Shandy.

She stood in the doorway to her lounge, trying to compose herself. She stared out the window watching the rain pound against the glass. Naked, except for her sheer Ivory “La Perla” negligee, beads of sweat trickled and danced their way down her beautiful dark supple skin.

Even her pussy was wet and dripping……………….

So she wandered over to the balcony glass door and let her cat, Cleopatra, in. “Cleo” was a recent gift from Iva, and was a gorgeous sorrel (chocolate brown on orange) Bengal kitten with emerald green eyes that Shandy swore were ringed with Guerlain kohl eyeliner number 25.

Shandy grabbed one of her eggshell coloured Missoni towels to dry off Cleo and then slumped into her Tahitian Pearl coloured Eames repro arm chair. Cleo purred at the attention.

She sat in her darkened lounge staring at the storm outside. She could hear the sound of thunder bellowing in the distance and lightening would flicker across the sky. She could still hear her clock radio playing in her bedroom. It was Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody” ….”I’m just a poor boy, nobody loves me”….

Her mind wandered to her past as indeed she used to be a poor boy. But surely somebody loves her?

But her mind wandered back to the strange dream with Black Magic. Why had she come to her in a dream? Why now? Was it because everyone had forgotten about her?

Suddenly, a crack of lightening broke her train of thought. The flash of light also caused her to catch a “glint” from something in her bathroom. Her eyes strained to see what it was. Another flash and it “glinted” again. She put Cleo on the floor and moved to the bathroom. There it was, embedded in the grouting at the bottom of the bathtub. A blood red diamante.

She didn’t own anything that this could belong to. Black Magic wasn’t wearing anything that this would have come from Shandy thought. And maybe she hadn’t seen it before because of the faded blood still marking her sea foam green Milano tiles!! “Oh my pretty pretty tiles,” moaned Shandy.

She put the blood red diamante into a safe place and went back to bed, but she found that she was tossing and turning. If only she was tossing Dirk she thought. And with that she drifted back to sleep, but not before a warm drizzle of excitement leaked out of her and gently glided down the inside of her leg.

Later that morning, Shandy called Dirk to update him on her dream, what she had found and that she was on her way to visit Clare.

“I’ll meet you there” said Dirk.

“No, there’s not enough time. I need to speak to her immediately and I’ll call you when I get back”.

“OK. Be careful darling. I’ll see you soon and I’ll make sure I have something hot for you that will make your mouth water” Dirk whispered huskily.

“My lips are parting as we speak. See you soon”. And Shandy was gone.

Meanwhile, over at Elwood By The Bay……………

Clare was going about her usual business…. swathed in a sheer filmy shell pink flowy top and figure hugging silver/grey Capri pants. Her stick like frame was fussing
over her antique collection of rare tea pots (a hobby she had taken to as a small child after a visit to Lipton’s Tea Emporium). Her prized possession was a “Paul Storr” sterling silver George IV teapot, which she was ensuring, was shinning brighter than Will Van Pill’s newly enamelled teeth.

Clare was interrupted from her task by the chiming of her Pan Pipes doorbell. As she made her way to the door, the sound of Wings “Let Em In” wafted through the mansion.

She opened the door and there stood Shandy.

“Well this really is an imposition,” grumbled Clare.

Shandy looked Clare up and down like a searchlight. “Darling, if I’d known you just got out of bed I would have called first” smirked Shandy.

Naturally, Clare looked impeccable but couldn’t help but let out a slight hissing sound at Shandy’s pointed remark. “So where is the rest of your coven?” enquired Clare.

“Casting beauty spells no doubt,” said Shandy. She continued. “I have heard rumours of you and your lover, Will Van Pill. Tell me this isn’t true. Tell me that your not fucking that withered old has been”.

Clare gasped and held a hand to her chest. “Oh how horrid!! My relationship with Will is not up for discussion and how dare you speak your wretched despicable gossip on my doorstep”.

There was silence.

Finally, Shandy spoke. “Fine. We could stand here chatting politely all day. Listen Clare, there’s a lot going on. I have a lot of new information that I need answers on and you are the only person that can help me”.

Clare’s eyes narrowed and she looked at Shandy with an air of superiority. “Indeed I can help you. Wait here one moment”. And with that Clare disappeared from view and left Shandy waiting on the doorstep.

Clare returned momentarily and placed a card into Shandy’s hand.

“What the hell is this?” asked Shandy.

“You will meet me at this address at 4pm this afternoon. You will get all the answers you need”. And with that, Clare closed the door in Shandy’s surprised face.

Shandy read the card.

DDQ
(The Stairway to Heaven)
131 16th Street
Collingwood. Vic. 3212.
Ph: 03 90237131



At 4pm that very same day, Shandy and (her coven) Iva, Carmene and Dirk stood outside of DDQ. She especially needed her security blankets, Iva and Carmene.

While the façade of the building was still under construction and cluttered with ladders and tradesman who were busily going about their tasks, Shandy couldn’t help but be impressed by the huge Western Red Cedar doors.

As if on cue, the doors opened and out walked Clare.

“Oh Shandy my dear, right on time I see. And you brought your little friends along. How quaint” said Clare with a wince that made her look like she had just tasted something tart.

Clare ushered her guests inside. It was darkly lit as they went from the impressive main doors to another set of doors. Clare’s assistant, Brock Hilton, greeted them. He was pure sex. Dark blonde, ruggedly handsome, hair parading out the top of his pec hugging shirt. And although Shandy adored Dirk, her mind wandered momentarily as she daydreamed of enveloping Brock’s engorged penis between her moist quivering lips and slowly extracting his milky love juice and….

“This way please,” offered Brock, breaking Shandy’s gorgeous daydream.

All four visitors gasped in unison. It was a vision. A palatial art deco nightclub adorned with exquisite features and a myriad of colours. “Bellacor” Mayan lamps sat beautifully on each table and matching wall sconces were dotted around the room. There was a massive stage that looked like it had state of the art lighting with a lush red velvet curtain pulled neatly to each side. Not only did the size of the stage make Shandy and the girls jaws drop, a glass topped catwalk snaked it’s way at least 30 feet forward of the stage!!

“What is all this, why did you invite me to this place” demanded Shandy from Clare.

“I can answer that” came a voice from the stage.

Will Van Pill (The Pillster to his friends) appeared from behind the red velvet curtain and made his way along the glass catwalk. His Birkenstocks clacked noisily as he walked. He was an odd little man, with a ruddy face and thinning dirty blonde hair. He had a slight stoop and skin that had seen far too much sun. He wore a pale lavender smock over what Shandy could only describe as upmarket overalls. He had so much heavy gold jewellery on it made Shandy think that he and Imelda would be a good match!!

“Shandy, ask him about the key” whispered Iva.

“Not now Iva, lets find out what’s going on here first,” said Shandy.

“This is my new club,” trumpeted Will. “It’s full name is DESTINATION: DRAG QUEEN, also know as DDQ”. This is my latest venture with my business partner (giving a nod towards Clare).

Shandy burst out laughing. Iva and Carmene joined in nervously.

“Well girlfriend, not only are you way past your prime as a performer but your boyfriend there is delusional” snickered Shandy as she watched Clare’s response.

“Oh but my dear, sad, pathetic Shandy….

“Save your breath Clare, your gonna need it later to blow your lover” retorted Shandy. “And anyways, I know every drag in town. No-one’s gonna work for a rattling bag of bones like you!”

“Oh you atrocious dark skinned despot. That’s where you are wrong. I’ve flown in the best from all over the globe. Meet my girls” Said Clare.

Out walked the stunning Greek drag known as Donna Kebab. Next was the Irish beauty, Holly Head. A Local girl, Chelsea Heights (discovered by Clare in the David Jones food hall while extolling the virtues of fine teas). There was Jasmine Rice, Amber Light and Polly Teknik. Two older drag queens appeared, Bea Hive and Wanda Ovah.

But it was the final drag queen that stunned Shandy, Iva, Carmene and Dirk.

She was 6’6” tall and made Divine look like Elle.

“ Meet my Drag Queen Comedienne: HYSTERIA” Clare said triumphantly.

“Jesus” cried Iva who took a reluctant step backwards.

“And just while your jaw is dropping faster than your knickers at a men only nudist camp, Will is not my lover. He is my business partner. A business to crush you and that hovel known as Sassy Palms. Your days, like your hairdo Shandy, are over,” smirked Clare. “Oh, and by the way Shandy, you might want to start looking for some new girls, seems some aren’t as loyal as you may think. But of course, thinking has never been one of your strong points darling”.

And with that said, out walked Imelda.

There stood Imelda. Head to toe in some ghastly red outfit. But it wasn’t the ridiculously over sized loop earrings that had caught Shandy’s eye. It was the blood red diamante encrusted stilettos. The stilettos that sparkled as she walked. The stilettos that were Imelda’s pride and joy. The stiletto’s that were missing a blood red diamante from the toe of the left shoe!!!

Mausie's Mammoth Momentos

Dirk brushed off the remnants of Morty Hemple’s cock and held aloft the object for everyone to see.

“It’s a key,” Mausie commented. “But what sort?”

“Could be for anything,” Shandy said. She loved the way Dirk fingered the loop around the end of the key. Attached to it was a label with something written on one side. “What does that label say?” she asked, leaning in closer to catch a deeper whiff of that husky post-coital mansmell that Dirk still exuded from every delicious hunkpore.

“It’s some numbers. 131-16-0237.”

“Whatever do you think they refer to?” Shandy asked.

Dirk looked at Mausie. “Can you tell us?” he asked. “This is, after all, your very impressive cock collection.”

But all Mausie could do was shrug, and smooth out her Liza-With-A-Z hairdo. “Fucked if I know,” she replied. She bent over and scooped up the wooden stand upon which Morty’s impressive cock once stood at admirable attention. "Oh that Morty," she sighed nostalgically, "he did have a big one."

“So,” Dirt reasoned, “this key has been sitting inside Morty’s cock since 1978. That’s nearly 30 years ago. Good god, these numbers could mean anything. And whatever lock it fits probably doesn’t even exist now.”

Shandy snapped her fingers which brought everybody’s attention back to her, which was really why she did it. “I think I know who could tell us! Mausie, who made all these…um…figurines for you?”

Mausie gave a haughty sniff. “You won’t believe me if I told you.”

“Mausie, this could be important.”

“Oh all right,” she conceded, “It’s Will van Pill.”

“The famous sculptor?” Shandy blurted out, for she was not without some culture in her life. It wasn’t all about tits and sequins, you know.

“Who’s that?” Carmene and Iva asked in unison.

Shandy rolled her eyes. “Will van Pill is only Australia’s greatest living sculpture. He’s world famous for his outrageously pornographic sculptures. Ever heard of ‘Fortunate Fornicating Foursome’? What about 'Humping Horny Harry’s Stump'?” But all Shandy got back from Carmene and Iva were blank looks. “He’s been banned by nearly every government in the world. All you need to know is that it don’t get much more famous in the world of sculpturing that Will van Pill.”

“Oh yes, he’s a famous sculptor now," Mausie said, “but when I met him, he was just a poor, struggling Arts student down at Brunswick Tech.” She turned back to her cock-laden mantle and picked out the one that sat at the far end. It was another enviably endowed “figurine” with the name “Pill” stenciled at the bottom. “He presented it to me as a sort of going away gift before he went to London and made it into the big time.” She turned it over and looked at the base. The year of 1962 was written across the bottom in thick black texta. “Gosh,” she sighed, “was that really 1962…?” She turned it right side up again and admired its girth. So were all the girls in the room. “By the late 1960s his fame had become all too much for him so he returned to Melbourne by which time I’d taken a new lover and well, you know, I rather fancied the idea of a memento.”

“So if we go to Will van Pill surely he’ll remember putting a key inside one of your cocks?” Carmene asked hopefully.

“After nearly 30 years?” Mausie asked. “Darls, I wouldn’t hold your breath. Do you know how much pot that man has smoked? To say nothing of how much coke he’s snorted and how much heroin he’s shot? These days I doubt that he would even remember me! If you only knew the number of—”

“Wait a minute,” Dirk cut in. “You put the surname of each of your lovers on the base of each plaster cast?”

Mausie nodded. “There’s been so many that I needed a way to remember who belonged to which co—”

“So if this one on the floor is Morty, who...” he said, pointing to another of the sculptures on the mantle just as large as the one scattered into pieces on Mausie’s Maui Tropicale print semi-shagpile, “...is that?”

They all turned to look at what Dirk was pointing to. It was another plaster o’ phallus also marked HEMPLE. After a moment’s silence, they turned to find a deep crimson blush spreading across Mausie’s face. “Oh…oh, that…?” she stammered. “It’s…ah…hmmmm, yes.” She tapped her index finger against her chin, and then grabbed the cock labeled HEMPLE and looked at the bottom of the base. “Oh my!" she exclaimed, staring at the pornocock in her hand. "This is Morty!" She showed the bottom of the base: it read '1978'.

"It's that's Morty," Shandy cried out and then pointed to the mess on the floor, "who's cock got smashed?"

"Well you see, it’s like this," Mausie replied, "Morty isn’t the only Hemple I’ve…uh… entertained.”

“Morty had a brother?” Iva said.

Shandy backhanded Iva across the shoulder pad. “No, you big nitwit. Morty had a son.”

“Saul?? You bedded both Morty AND Saul???”

“Now, don’t get all your bra straps in a bundle. Morty knew all about it. In fact it was his suggestion. Saul’s trial wasn’t going well and it looked like he was about to get put away. So Morty was faced with the prospect that his only son was just about to go into jail having never had sex with anyone yet.”

"Really?” Shandy asked, picturing Saul’s lean, taut frame and how the tight tee-shirt he’d worn the other night at Sassy Palms had shown all the essentials off to perfection. He certainly gave Franklyn a run for his money, and that’s saying something. “Saul was a virgin?”

“Before going into prison, he was. But you know what prison can be like, and Morty, bless his fatherly little heart, didn’t want his son’s first sexual experience to be up the poop-shooter with some brute named Bongo. So the day before the verdict was announced, Morty dropped Saul off here and I…well, you know. And before he left, I made him model for me.”

“Didn’t he ask why?”

“Of course he did, and I told him. He seemed quite amused and flattered by the whole thing. As well he should. As you saw, Morty packed a wallop, but Saul had at least a good inch on his dear old Dad. That’s when he said that he would be virtually driving past Will van Pill’s studio and would be happy to drop it off. ”

“So,” Dirk mused, “it was Saul who dropped off the mold at Will’s place?”

“What are you thinking, my darling?” Shandy asked. She tried to act casual as she gripped Dirk's baseball-sized bicep and drunk in his heady beefcake bouquet.

“Saul was looking at jail time, right? What if Saul had something to hide? What if he had something he needed to keep safe while he was in the slammer? What if this key is to something like a safe deposit box? Nobody could get inside it unless they had this key. What better place to hide it than in one of Mausie’s momentos.”

“But this is all just theory,” Shandy said. “We don’t know Saul’s got anything to do with this key. Saul’s just got out of jail, he can’t afford to be caught up in some scandal if he’s not even involved. I still say we go to Will van Pill and ask him. Surely he’d remember hiding a key inside a plaster cock, even if he has swallowed enough drugs to knock out half of Woodstock. So Mausie, tell us, where is Will van Pill’s studio?” But everyone found a hesitant frown on Mausie’s round, sweet face.

Dirk laid a gentle hand on Mausie’s shoulder. “What is it, Mausie? Is there something else we need to know?”

“I wasn’t going to mention this because I didn’t think it was relevant. But I think it might be connected. The last time I saw Will was about a year ago and he told me he’d taken up with a new lover.”

“Did he say who it was?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Who, Mausie?” Shandy and Dirk and Iva and Carmene chorused together. “WHO???”

“It’s that psychic: Clare Voyant.”

A cock and bull story

"Clare, more than you can possibly realise" responded Shandy "But who is this mysterious 3rd man, who is he?"

"Sorry Shandy, can't help you there." Clare Voyant stood up, her stunning sheer Pucci batwinged kaftan in hues of turquoise, cerulean, cuan and azure, shifting gently. "Now, that will be $500," Clare said clapping her hands gently to signify it was time for them to leave.

"Which one of you is paying today?" Clare looked around questioningly.

They shifted awkwardly.

Carmene spoke, "Clare, I think there's been a miscommunication."

Clare raised an eyebrow, "Oh really?" the sarcasm dripping off her tongue was enough to melt a new hole in the ozone layer.

Iva stood, her voice raised and angry, "Yes, Clare, a definite miscommunication. You see we thought you were going to help us, not try to rip us the fuck off. 'Oh a girl/boy, half man/half fish and some strange man' - what does that tell us? Sweet FA, that's what."

"It means what I told you," Clare said archly.

Dirk stood, "Hey Ladies, let's not argue. You've been most helpful Clare."

Dirk started ushering the ladies out of the room.

"What about my money, you molls" screeched Clare Voyant, slipping back to her South Morang roots for a minute.

Iva turned back, "Cheque's in the mail honey." Iva took a few steps more and then turned back, "Oh, and I won't come in your mouth either."

Shandy, Carmene and Iva strutted back to the car while Dirk talked with Clare. When he got back into the car the ladies grilled him.

"I hope you didn't pay her," snapped Iva.

"Not exactly," said Dirk.

"What does that mean?"asked Carmene.

"We came to an arrangement," Dirk started the car.

Shandy felt jealous, she didn't want anyone coming to any arrangements with Dirk that didn't involve herself, some chocolate flavoured body butter and a pair of thigh high patent leather stiletto boots.

"What sort of arrangement?" she quizzed, struggling to keep the acid out of her tone.

"She's going to try again, and if she can come up with more information that will actually lead to an arrest we'll pay her double," Dirk explained.

Shandy relaxed, that seemed a fair deal.

"Well, I'm just glad we're out of there. I couldn't bear to watch Clare suck her stomach in for another twenty minutes," Shandy laughed.

"Let's head back to Mausie's and debrief," Dirk suggested.

They travelled mostly in silence but when they got to Mausie's Dirk kept the car running.

"Shandy, I wondered if we could go for a little drive? There's something I want to show you."

"Lovely" Shandy tried to keep the excitement out of her voice.

Carmene and Iva slipped out of the car discreetly winking at Shandy.

"Guess we'll see you two later?" Iva smiled suggestively.

Dirk nodded and they were off.

"So where are we off to honey?" Shandy slid her arm across the back of Dirk's seat.

Dirk just smiled giving nothing away. A few moments later he whipped his car into the carpark of the marina.

"Come on, we need to go for a walk," he took Shandy by the hand and led her down the pier.

Dirk halted in front of an impressive yacht. "This" he gestured, "is what I wanted you to see."

Shandy smiled, "It's delicious, is it yours?"

Dirk smiled suggestively, "Let's just say I've got access to it for awhile, climb aboard."

As they boarded the boat the promise of what could happen onboard this luxury cruiser set the atmosphere between Dirk and Shandy to a sizzle. His hand brushed her firm buttocks as he led her down the stairs to the gorgeous interior of this love den at sea.

The interior of the yacht was all red velvet, black leather and dark timber. There was no need for words Dirk grabbed Shandy's hand and pushed her roughly against the hand-carved oak staircase. Shandy was kissing him passionately, tasting everything she could - she wanted Dirk inside her in every possible way. But Dirk grabbed her by the wrists and pinned her hands by her sides.

"Let's make one thing clear Shandy, onboard this boat I am the skipper, do you understand?"

Shandy nodded, loving Dirk's firm approach - not to mention the massive hard on pushing into her thigh.

He continued, "You do as I say, when I say - is that clear?"

"Crystal" she responded.

Dirk pulled Shandy over to the king size bed and then he lay down on it. She remained standing at the foot of the bed. He leant over and hit the button on the inbuilt stereo in the bedhead.

"I think you may be an illegal immigrant so I'm going to need to strip search you, but first I want you to strip search yourself."

Shandy nodded, knowing exactly want to do. She moved her body suggestively to the music, she kept it raunchy but not too slutty and slowly undressed, teasing Dirk with the merest flash of her firm breasts of bending over to showcase her amazing legs and the temptations on offer. Eventually he pulled her onto the bed and pushed himself on top of her.

"Shandy, I want you more than I've ever wanted anyone."

"I feel the same," Shandy gasped feeling overwhelmed with emotion. Dirk smiled then stood up, pulling Shandy to the edge of the bed so she was sitting facing him.

"Do you want me to fuck you Shandy?" His voice was firm, guttural, pure animal sex.

"Yes, I do more than anything." Shandy gushed.

Dirk grabbed her face is his hands, forcing her to look up at his face, "Then prove it."

He let her face go and Shandy knew exactly what he wanted. She worked furiously to unzip his pants and slide off his Armani suit pants (in a gorgeous dark grey pinstripe) and his Calvin Klein boyleg underpants. My God, she'd seen some big cocks in her time but Dirk was positively packing a whole fucking conference on climate change down there. She started slowly licking the rim of his enormous prick, lapping at the small drops of juice spilling from the edges then she couldn't hold herself off a moment longer she opened her mouth as wide as she could and took him in, as deeply and strongly as she could. She sucked him hard, taking him deeper and deeper with each thrust, she'd been accused of being a big mouth in the past but even Angelina Jolie couldn't have deepthroated this guy. She loved the sounds he was making, the raw pleasure the hardness of him inside her and the way he kept pushing himself in further and further.

Then he pulled out before he came and pushed her down on the bed and thrust himself inside her so quickly and so hard she thought she might squeal from the exquisite mix of pleasure and pain.

"Fuck, you're good" he whispered admiringly.

"Only for you" she replied breathlessly. And as they came in unison Shandy was suprised to realise she actually meant it.

************Later at Mausie's************************


"That's some rack" Dirk said admiringly.

Shandelier, freshly showered and refresed, was reclining on the art deco settee in Mausie Mc Queen's flat, Dirk standing behind her. She smoothed her hands over her charcoal Fendi cotton and leather dress shirt. She knew this shirt was worth the $500 price tag if it got Dirk looking in the right direction. It hugged her man-made curves so flatteringly they almost looked natural.

"Why thank you, it'd want to be for $20 grand."

"Twenty grand!" Dirk sputtered incredulously, "Darling I could have had a mate knock you up something similar for a couple of hundred."

Shandy turned, Dirk was hot there was no denying it, but she wasn't going to let him insult this fit set of lovejugs and get away with it.

"How dare you..." She turned preparing for a battle of words only to realise her error. Dirk was staring at Mausie's trophy rack. Shandy laughed and moved closer to Dirk.

"Most women Mausie's age have teaspoon collections or tea towels but not Mausie."

"What are all these for?" Dirk asked, lightly fingering one of the plaster statuettes on the rack.

"They're cocks," laughed Mausie, entering the room with a tray of coffee, biscuits and some top-shelf whiskey.

"Cocks?" asked Dirk.

"Let me explain, " Shandy giggled, "Mausie had a lot of lovers over the years and wanted a little something to remember each one."

Dirk picked up a rather large one, "I wouldn't call this a little something."

Mausie poured the coffee, "Oh yes, that was Ivan, my God that man was hung like pendulum. You see, I took a plaster cast of each of my lovers. That cock collection means so much to me."

Mausie suddenly rose from her seat and grabbed one of the plaster models with tears in her eyes. "This one's Morty," she hugged it close to her sagging bosom.

"Nice" Shandy uttered, "I never knew he sported such an impressive package."

"Impressive alright," Dirk said confidently, lightly readjusting his pants.

"God, I miss him, " Mausie started to howl.

Shandy, not being one to tolerate hysterics from anyone other than her own sweet self, waved her hands in the air as if trying to dry her Hot Sex 11 nail varnish. Dirk reached to grab the whiskey. But the girly hand waving, the manly movement and Mausie's heaving sagging bosom got tangled up and there was a smash.

The three gasped. Morty's cock lay shattered on the floor of Mausie's flat, but it was what was inside the broken cock that silenced them. Dirk bent and picked it up.

"What is it?" Mausie asked.
"What does it mean?" voiced Shandy.
"And who exactly put it there?" Drik questioned.

Spookalulu

"Its late" said Shandy, "We can visit Clare tommorrow. Not that I want to I'll have you know. As was said, we have history and not in a good way. But I agree, she may be able to help. We have to find out who killed dear old Morty" her eyes started to water. Dirk placed his large muscular arms around her shoulders.

"Don't worry, I promise you we will find this person"

"Come on darl" said Iva "You can crash at my joint, cause I don't want you bein on your own luvvie".

"Perhaps your right Iva, thanks honey"

The following morning Dirk drove to Iva's flat in St Kilda. It was bedlum inside. All the "girls" were there. Dirk could not get a word in edgewise as they were arguing about who would join Shandy to visit Clare. Finally it was settled, Iva and Carmene would join Shandy and Dirk. Margot was most displeased and sat on the couch poutting.

Shorty after, the foursome were on there way in Dirk's snappy car.

"Why do you and Clare have a history" asked Dirk. Before Shandy could respond Carmene replied. "Oooohhh its a bitchy affair darling. Clare was THE drag queen on the Melbourne circuit. More popular than Liz Street. She was glamour, none of the usual tackiness, a veritable style maven, wore the best frocks money could buy, but then she always had a steady stream of monied boyfriends. That girl was a class act, people couldn't get enough of her........ until....... a certain black bitch arrived in town" Carmene pointed a finger at Shandy. "Clare had competition and she was pissed bad".

"It wasn't deliberate" said Shandy

"Maybe not darling, but you got your rocks off on the rivalry, admit it"

"Well I will say I enjoyed the adulation. The gay boys loved me. You have to remember Marcia Hines and I were really the only black chicks about at the time, I was at my peak sister"

"Anyways, Miss Beeotchy here soon became the darlin of drag society. And another reason she was popular, she was one of the first to go through the change"

"I don't understand....the change?" asked Dirk

"For christ sake, she was one of the first to have her cock chopped off"

"Girl, please, must you be so vulgar" replied Shandy

"Well its true. So basically Shandy started gettin all the plum jobs and Clare had to settle for being lady in waiting. She left the scene saying she was answering the psychic call, she could no longer ignore the voices in her head. She said she knew she had a talent when she took the TV Week Psychic Quiz. Now the bitch is famous and consults with all the celebs, movers and shakers.

Dirk looked at Shandy "Well it will be interesting to see how she reacts to you, does she know your coming"

"Yesssss I called and made a booking" said Iva "She was cool over the phone"

Shandy flushed with nerves.

Momements later they drove up to the gates of Clare's home, Elwood by the Bay.

"I thought you said it was run down" motioned Iva with her hand

"It was when I last saw it, but that was years ago when she first bought it" said Carmene

Dirk pushed the intercom. Seconds later a voice "hellooooo"

"Miss Voyant, ummm we have an appointment to talk with you"

"Yes, yes.... come"

The gates slid open and they approached the house, a stunning modern structure of white washed walls and floor to ceiling glass perched a top a cliff face.

"Fuck the cow is stinkin filthy rich" remarked Iva

They approached the double frosted doors and pushed the buzzer. Immediately the yapping of a dog was heard, then a voice "Snookums, get back, stop that, I said come away, MOVE IT YOU DIRTY LITTLE BITCH"

With a flourish the door was whisked open, there before them stood the "woman" herself, Miss Clare Voyant. Momentarily flustered, she gathered the small white poodle from the floor and regained her composure.

"Enchant'e dahhlings. Pardon moi, but my little precious gets carried away when the door chimes, she so loves visitors. It takes a stern voice to ummm sooth her. Do, DO come in" Clare shot a quick glance in Shandy's direction, quickly eyeballing her up and down.

Likewise Shandy eyed Clare. She had changed little over the years. A tall slim woman with prematurely greying hair that was swept into a tight and intriguing bun atop her head. She wore a stunning sheer Pucci batwinged kaftan in hues of turquoise, cerulean, cuan and azure. Around her neck a multi stranded Dinosaur Designs necklace of lapis beads, complemented by silver Georg Jensen earrings and a cuff bracelet. No makeup except for dramatic eyeshadow that Shandy instantly recognised as Guerlain Peacock Bleue # 9.

"Miss Voyant. I am Chief Dectective Dirk Flynn. I believe you know the ladies and are aware why we have come, yes?"

"My dear Detective, do call me Clare. Yes, yes we are old acquaintances. Shandy dahhling" Clare approached and air kissed her cheeks "How delighted I am to see you after soooo many years, why you have not changed a scerric. Iva, Carmene, lovely, lovely, but yes our reunion is bitter sweet is it not. Morty Hempel, dead - ghastly. I simply cannot comprehend it. That man was responsible for me success. Who would want him dead I ask you"

"Clare" said Shandy tentatively "Thankyou for allowing us to come, we need your help, we need to see if you can shed light on Morty's murder"

"Shandy, gorgeous thing. How could I not, I will do my best. Come to the parlour"

"The what" said Carmene

"The lounge, don't you know nothing" snapped Iva

They entered a large room. The windows had uniterrupted views over the ocean. In the centre was a circular glass topped table and chairs. The room was otherwise sparsely furnished except for an elaborate credenza with a statue surrounded by candles, flowers and small offering plates.
"Whats that, or should I say who's that" asked Carmene

"That" said Clare "Is Lakshmi, goddess of beauty"

"And wealth" added Dirk

"You impress me Detective. You are au fait with the Hindu religion then"

"I have an understanding of it you could say"

"Bravo, there should be more like you. I converted some years back, many in fact when I "ahem" gave up my superficial but incredibly succesful showbiz career and travelled to India where I found salvation with the spiritual enlightenment of Bagwan Shree Rajneesh and his followers, whom you would know as "Orange People". It was all so uber spiritaualle. I spent several years studying yoga and meditation which in turn opened my third eye"

Iva snickered. Caremene jabbed her with an elbow.

"This bought my psychic ability to the surface and the rest of course is history dahhhlings. But enough of my prattling, we have work to do. Please, do take a seat"

Clare moved to a panel of buttons on the wall, suddenly the blinds lowered shrouding the room in semi darkness.

"Now dahhlings, I ask you to join hands and close your eyes whilst I take a minute to connect to the other side"

Carmene's palms moistened as adrenalin pumped through her body. Shandy felt nervous but secure holding Dirk's strong and reassuring hand.

Clare sat erect and drew deep breaths. Her eyes closed.

"Spirit world hear my plee"
"Third eye open let me see"
"Lakshmi goddess of thine temple"
"Tell me who killed Morty Hempel"

Several seconds of silence followed. THEN. Clare started to quiver. The room grew cold. THEN, her eyes popped open.

"A vision. I have a vision. This horridness, yes yes, its growing clearer, come dahhling show me, show me"

"Who the hell is she talking to" whispered Iva to Carmene

"Shhhh"

"It is not A PERSON, it is PEOPLE that you seek. There are 2, no NO wait, there are 3. Yes,
they are showing me signs, at first it was a riddle, it perplexed me, but now I see. The first is a boy but he looks like a girl, the second is a girl who looks like a boy. How biazzaro. The boy is maybe of middle eastern or oriental decent, Im not certain. The girl, large of frame, pale complexion, red hair, yes red, a little bit ugly. But who is the 3rd, come dahhling, come, show me yourself. Hmmm all Im getting is that its a male, he was the one who held the gun.......andddd, No, no, dahling don't go, stay, who are you? Wait................Too late, he has gone back into the mist, I can get no more for now, but later maybe. Is this of any help. Does it make sense to you"

"Clare, more than you can possibly realise" responded Shandy "But who is this mysterious 3rd man, who is he?"

Tragedy in a soft pink spotlight

The silver light bounced off the disco mirror ball and glinted on the barrel of the pistol to the beat of "Disco Inferno".

Glint! Glint! Glint glint!

It hypnotised Shandy into a trance. She couldn't pull her eyes from its mesmerising glimmer. I'd love a sparkly number in that shade of gun metal gray, she thought to herself. It's very film noir Laurel Bacall gangster moll, it's it? I'm sure Margot could whip me up something gorgeous if I could find that same color down at Clegs...

Glint! Glint! Glint glint!

She heard a scream, but it came from someone, far far away. There was movement too, slow and languorous it seemed to her, filling the peripheral of her Dior-lined vision. Suddenly a dark shadow fell across her from out of nowhere, blocking her view of her adoring fans and breaking the spell of the gorgeous glinting gray gun.

Suddenly there was a WHOOSH! And another scream! And a burst of light! And then suddenly everything was plunged into darkness. Shandy dropped to her knees like a two-buck hooker during the last half-hour of half-price night at the Pentridge Prison Rodeo.

Another shot ripped through the inky blackness! And then other! The nancy boys in the front row unleashed a high-pitched machine-gun volley of screams that ricocheted off every hard surface in the place - including Lady Luck's tits.

Just then someone skittered past Shandy, knocking the six-foot plume headdress that completed her lavish Aztec Quetzal Bird costume to one side. The weight toppled her over; she collapsed blindly to her left expecting to hit the Sassy Palms stage, but tumbled onto a body sprawled out before her. She groped around in the hopes that she could find out who it was. "The lights!" she screamed out. "Somebody get the lights! Somebody! Franklyn? Anyone? Please! Oh for the love of God will somebody help--"

Then, in a blinding flash, Shandy's spotlight flooded the stage, bathing her in her signature British Baby Rosebud pink light that never failed to enhance her inner glow. She looked down to see the crumpled body. She recoiled, stifling a scream, her perfectly manied nails pressed against her silky smooth cheeks brushed lightly with Paula Dorf Perfect Glo.

"It's okay," a familiarly deep voice told her softly from behind. Shandalier turned and threw herself into Dirk Flynn's thick, hard, bulging arms and buried her face in his barreled chest.
"But...but..." she whimpered. Wet sobs were bubbling to the surface now. "...it's all because of me...he...he...threw himself in front of me...and he...he took the bullet for me."

"Do you know who he is?" Dirk asked.

Shandy nodded. "It's Morty Hemple. He used to own the Sassy Palms. Do you think he's carked it?"

Shandy felt Dirk's massive chest heave up and down as he nodded. "I'm afraid so, my darling."

Shandy's eyes popped open. Darling? Darling? Did he just call me "Darling"? Am I his darling? Well now, this was a delightful turn of events. She pulled her face from the stunning cleft between Dirk's pecs and looked up at him, drowning herself in his melted Belgian chocolate eyes. She was about to tell him that he was her darling too when suddenly across the empty bar a high-pitched voice erupted.

"OH MY GOD! WE'VE FOUND IT! WE'VE FOUND I-I-I-I-I-I-I-!"

Shandalier and Dirk shielded their eyes from the softening haze of Shandy's signature British Baby Rosebud pink light and spied Iva and Carmene working their way around the deserted tables of the Sassy Palms. This was the first time Shandy had even noticed the joint was emptier than a synagogue on Christmas. As the pair drew closer, Shandy could make out that Iva was holding something in her left hand, or more specifically, between her thumb and pointer. She held it like you would someone else's used tampon. "What is it?" she asked.

"The murder weapon!" Carmene announced, her voice ripe with the melodrama of the moment. "Nobody saw who it was. He - or she - was dressed in your basic black, any-occasion ensemble and disappeared into the crowd as everyone was stampeding like randy rhinos."

They stepped into the light and revealed the shiny gray revolver. On the grip was a strange, squiggly symbol in the same shade of Dublin-at-Dawn Emerald Green that Shandy nearly went with on her new bathroom tiles. Shandy appeared closer. Were they letters?

"So nobody saw anything?" Dirk asked, in his knee-weakening police detective voice.

"Nobody saw nothin'," Iva told him. And then she turned to Shandy with eyes a-narrowed.

"What?" Shandy demanded. "If nobody saw nothin', what can I do?"

"You can go see you-know-who, that's what you can do?" Iva replied.

"You don't mean..."

"Yes I do mean!"

"Who?" Dirk asked.

Carmene grabbed Dirk by his impressive forearm. "Iva here is referring to none other than Melbourne's foremost drag queen-slash-psychic: Miss Clare Voyant. She's amazing. She knows all. She sees all. She tells all."

Dirk turned to look at Shandy. She could read his meltie chockie eyes clear as day: "We have no other clues to help us solve Morty's murder."

"We have a history," Shandalier told him petulantly. "And it isn't pretty."

"Where does she live?" he asked.

"In a rundown house down at the beach," Iva piped up. "It's ever so spooky, it is. It's up on the cliff overlooking everything. You can't miss it. It's called Elwood By The Bay."

Dirk grabbed Shandy firmly by the shoulders and stared deeply into her troubled orbs. "We must go see Clare Voyant," he told her. "Do it. Do it for Morty."

...and then there were nine.

The music was thumping, the toned bodies of the sexy young dancers were glistening with a wild concoction of Bev's Bootylicious Body juice and salty sweat, the smell of thos bodies was driving Shandy wild - but there'd be plenty of time for post-show celebrating later, now she heeded to show the crowd what they came fore - hard tits, long legs and the moves as saucy as a XXX hot chilli tabasco. The crowd were perched on the edges of their gold-lame-padded retro kitchen chairs - this was going down as one of the wildest nights in the history of The Sassy Palms.

Shandy kept her back to the crowd. Her long toned legs jigging as she shook her buns of steel to the rhythmic Mayan beat. The stage was packed: Shandy, Iva Biggun, Lady Luck, Caress, Margot Bourgeois and the three dancers and then of course Carmene and Morty waiting in the wings. Ten little Mayan Indians having the time of their lives - and for one of them, that life was about to end. Snuffed out like the career of a former child-star who thought making a gay sex tape was a good idea at the time.

Shandy spun, hiding her face from the audience with her slender, perfectly manicured hands (nails painted in Mayan Musque for the occasion), she slowly drew her hands back, teasing the audience who were desperate to gaze upon her elegant visage. The music took a dramatic turn and Shandy pulled her hands back, flicked back her hair with the merest shake of her neck and strutted towards the audience. They were out of their seats, they were screaming - man this girl could lip-synch to 'The Road from Gundagai' and the audience would still lap it up.

It was one of those nights when performing is almost religious, Shandy shook it, shimmied and swung like no-one had for years. The timing, the electricity and the movement between all the performers was evident. The crowd were on their feet, screaming for more. The number finished and the Shandy and the other performers ran backstage, hot with exhaustion but high on the atmosphere.

Morty lit a cigar, 'Shandy darling I've seen some stuff in my time, but Baby you should be taking this one to Vegas.'
Carmene passed around handtowels, 'Don't smudge your make-up girls I think this crowd won't be going until they see some more.'

And she was right, the crowd was screaming for an encore.
Shandy locked eyes with Iva, 'Let's do it' and they all rushed back onstage to the rapturous applause of a dedicated crowd.

Franklyn hit the music and the lights and the performers swung back into action but suddenly Shandy froze. She'd been scanning the faces of the crowd, waving to the regulars, blowing flirtatious kisses to the gorgeous young things in the front row, making a wisecrack at the expense of the fat girl in the tiara - when someone caught her eye. The crowd stopped, everyone craning their necks to see who had caught the attention of Shandy and caused all that glorious post-orgasmic flush to drain from a face they all loved.

But it wasn't who had stopped Shandy in her tracks but what. A gleaming silver pistol - aimed straight at the stage. A single shot was fired, the crack deafening. There was confusion, some people laughing thinking this was part of the show - others screaming in blind panic desperate to flee. The performers dropped to the floor of the stage. The lights went out - the power had been cut. It was chaos, complete Mystique Mayan Mayhem throughout The Sassy Palms. It would take twenty minutes before anyone realised that a precious life had been lost on the stage of The Sassy Palms that night. A life drained away down the plughole of camp that was The SassyPalms. And then there were nine...