GORGEOUS

Athena, a beautiful Greek goddess, takes exception to local beauty queens

Sheila Bennett woke up a few minutes after seven AM. Her alarm was set for 7:25, but there was no point going back to bed for barely twenty minutes. So, yawning widely, the Goth chick, with black-and-orange striped hair, got up and started to dress in her police uniform.

Like everything else in the Yellow House, her bedroom was painted what Sheila regarded as jaundice yellow, but what the landlady called sunny yellow.

Walking across to the small window, she got a couple of worms from a tiny bar fridge she kept beside the window and walked across to a small window-side table, upon which sat Venice, her pet Venus Flytrap.

"Brekkie time, my little sweetie," said Sheila, dropping the two worms into the clamshell-shaped sepals of the plant. Snatching her fingers away just in time as the sepals slammed closed. "Hey, no fair trying to eat Mummy's fingers."

Going out into the yellow carpeted corridor, still yawning, Sheila headed downstairs to sit at the yellow-clothed dining table, ready for breakfast.

Looking around, the Goth chick was surprised to see three gorgeous, huge-chested women in their mid to late twenties already sitting at the table: a blonde, a redhead, and a night-black goddess.

Turning toward the blonde, Sheila said, "Terri, have you had a boob job since I saw you late last night."

The blonde giggled like a schoolgirl, then said, "No, silly, my name isn't Terri. I'm Mary. Mary Marvellous."

"So, Marvellous Mary, why are you sitting in Terri's chair?"

"Am I? I didn't see her name on it."

Standing, the huge-breasted blonde checked the chair all over for more than a minute, before declaring, "Nope, the only name on it is Nick Scali. So, is this where he sits?"

"Nick Scali is the manufacturer of the chair," explained Deidre Morton, a short, chubby, brunette, the owner of the Yellow House. "And you may certainly sit on it, honey."

"Oh, thanks, Mrs. Morson," said the blonde sitting again.

"Morton," said Deidre, having already corrected the blonde three times that morning.

"Okay, so you're Marvellous Mary, so who are the others?" asked Sheila.

"I'm Wanda Wonderful," said the redhead, sounding as airheaded as Mary.

"Is that your real name?" asked the Goth policewoman.

"Oh yes, it definitely says Wanda on my birth certificate."

"No, I meant Wonderful," explained Sheila, doing her best not to sigh in frustration.

"Oh, no. My real surname is Slaggelhoopel. But the organisers advised me to change it to Wonderful."

"I wonder why?" teased the Goth chick. Then to Deidre Morton, "Organisers?"

"The girls are all contestants in the first-ever Miss Glen Hartwell Contest," explained the brunette, almost glowing from excitement.

"So they all live in Glen Hartwell? Then, why don't I know them? I thought I knew everyone who lives in G.H.?"

"I only moved here from Sunshine a month ago," said Mary. "Since you have to live between BeauLarkin and Willamby to be eligible for the contest."

"And where do you live, Wonderful Wanda?"

"Not far from here, in Lenoak."

"And, I didn't get your name," said the Goth chick, looking at the black goddess as she heard footsteps descending from the hallway.

"Sherri Superb," said the night-black woman, who was actually Sherri Waterman, a prostitute working at the Free Love Sex Lounge in LePage.

"Wait a minute, I know you," said Sheila, drawing furious head shaking, and pleading looks from Sherri, "you live in LePage if I remember rightly."

Looking relieved, Sherri said, "Yes, that's right."

"Then what are you all doing glomming brekkie from Mrs. M.?"

"That was my idea," said Terri Scott, a tall, beautiful ash blonde, and as Senior Sergeant of the area, Sheila's boss. "I thought it would be easier to protect the ladies if we had them gathered in as few locations as possible."

"What do you mean, protect them?" asked Sheila as Terri and her fiancé Colin sat at the table.

"Orders from above," said Colin Klein, a tall, redheaded Englishman.

"God is now watching Earthly beauty contests?" teased Sheila.

"No, dingleberry," said Terri as the others started coming down for breakfast. "Russell Street has passed down orders that we see that the beauteous ladies are all safe."

"What from all the monsters and maniacs that inhabit Glen Hartwell?"

Seeing the shocked looks upon the faces of Mary and Wanda, Terri said, "Also, any would-be gropers, and hard-core feminists who might picket the contest."

"Damn those feminists," said Sheila. "Just because they're all ugly old skanks, they think that gorgeous women don't have the right to exist."

"Did Germaine Greer die in vain?" teased Natasha Lipzing, the Yellow House's oldest resident, sitting at the table opposite the beauty queens.

"We can only hope," said Tommy Turner, a short, fat, blond retiree, his eyes almost popping out of his head as he saw Mary, Wanda, and Sherri.

"But who will protect them from Tommy?" teased Leo Laxman, a tall, black Jamaican employed as a nurse at the Glen Hartwell and Daley Community Hospital.

"Very funny," said Tommy, staring wide-eyed at the three gorgeous women.

"Certainly the scenery around here has improved overnight," said Freddy Kingston, sitting down. A tall, chubby retiree, Freddy was almost bald.

"If that's a crack at Terri and me," said Sheila. "Just remember who single-handedly defeated Rakshasa, the Mimic, and other fiends." [See my stories, 'Rakshasa' and 'The Mimic'.]

"Didn't you use a bazooka against them?" teased Freddy.

"Yes, and there are still nine shells left, if I have to use it against you!"

"I have been sufficiently warned," said Freddy, as they all laughed.

"Oh, by the way, Terri, you and Colin will have to move out and sleep in the Lexus until the contest is over," teased Sheila.

"No, they won't," said Deidre Morton. "But I'm afraid you'll have to move, Sheila dear."

"What? But I'm your oldest resident."

"Actually, I've been here for thirty-six years," pointed out Natasha. "You haven't been here for two years yet."

"The only one who's been here less time than you, Sheils, is Leo," said Freddy.

"I've got some bad news for you, Leo, mate," said Sheila.

"Actually, I do need both Leo and you, Sheila, to move temporarily into two smaller attic rooms that I have," said Deidre Morton.

"Why us?" asked Leo.

"Because you two each have a room large enough to take two lovely ladies. Freddy and Tommy have smaller rooms, and Terri and Colin share a room."

"So?" demanded the Goth chick. "And to think I was just defending the rights of gorgeous women to exist.

"It's only for twelve days, until the contest is decided," said Terri.

"And we have to protect them as well," complained Sheila. Muttering, "Who's gonna protect them from us?"

"Ah, I knew you'd understand," said Deidre Morton.

After breakfast, Colin, Stanlee Dempsey, and Jessie Baker helped Sheila and Leo to move into their much smaller attic rooms.

"It's barely half the size of my old room," moaned Sheila.

"It's only for twelve days," said Terri.

"And technically, your room is a two-person room, so I should be charging you more," said Deidre.

Just then, they heard a scream from downstairs.


"What is it?" asked Terri, after they had run down to the first storey landing.

"A vicious plant-thingy tried to chew off my fingers," complained Mary.

"Oh, that's Venice, my Venus Flytrap," said Sheila, going to get the carnivorous plant. "She's perfectly harmless, aren't you, sweetie?"

As she went to rub her face against the plant, its sepals suddenly snapped shut.

"The rotten weed, she just tried to eat my nose. Talk about eating the face that feeds you," said Sheila. Heading back upstairs, she added, "Anymore of that and I'll chuck you into the green waste bin."

At that moment, there was a knock on the front door.

"That must be the rest of our ladies," said Deidre Morton as they all went down to check.

At the door stood Paul Bell, Suzette Cummings, and three more gorgeous, huge-chested women.

"Hello," pouted a luscious brunette, "I'm Greta Gorgeous."

"Come in, Gorgeous Greta," said Sheila, in a less friendly tone than before, as the others entered the Yellow House,

"Hi," cooed a tall, busty Latina, "I'm Connie Comely."

"Hi, there," said a tall raven-haired beauty, "I'm Raven Ravishing."

"Do all beauty queens have joke surnames?" asked Natasha Lipzing.

"Who cares?" asked Freddy Kingston, "as long as they're all marvellous, wonderful, superb, gorgeous, comely, or ravishing."

"Ooh, you are so nice," cooed Greta Gorgeous.

"This is where he starts talking in baby talk," teased Suzette, an eighteen-year-old raven-haired trainee cop.

"So who wants to guard them first?" asked Terri Scott.

"I will," volunteered Colin, Jessie Baker, Stanlee Dempsey, and Paul Bell.

"I didn't need my woman's intuition to figure that out," teased Sheila.

Grabbing Colin by an arm, Terri said, "Down, boy, you're mine. But Stanlee, Jessie, and Paul can have the first watch guarding our gorgeous ladies."

"Yatzy!" cried Jessie Baker, a huge ox of a man, with flame red hair.

"So are we getting any more gorgeous ladies at the Yellow House?" asked Sheila.

"No, six is our quota," said Terri.

"Fair enough, two each," said Stanlee Dempsey, a huge, raven-haired man.

"Eight others are staying at the Chandler Hotel in Harpertown, the rest in the Imperial Hotel, out at Willamby," explained Terri.

"That's a long way for our lovely ladies to have to travel," said Tommy.

"We've got Louie Pascall and his Bell Huey chartered for the twelve days."

"As long as Louie doesn't try that line about two of them having to sit in the front with him," said Freddy. "One in the shotgun seat, and one on his lap."

"Hey, I've been told that before," cooed Mary Marvellous.

"I just bet you have," said Paul Bell, a tall, lean, raven-haired man in his mid-sixties.


Up in Mount Olympus, the home of the Twelve Olympians, the most important of the ancient Greek Gods, beautiful Athena, was looking down angrily upon the six gorgeous, chestalicious beauty queens in the Yellow House.

"What troubles you, goddess of wisdom, strategic warfare, and crafts?" asked Poseidon, god of the sea, rivers, flood and drought, earthquakes, and horses.

"Nothing to concern you," protector of seafarers," said Athena, not bothering to keep the contempt out of her voice.

Looking down at the Yellow House, Poseidon said, "Oh, what rare beauties. And so bountiful in all of the right places."

"So what?" demanded Athena. "There are plenty of busty, apple-butted, beautiful women in the world."

"As was Medusa, until you turned her into a gorgon with snakes for hair after Medusa boasted about her beauty, claiming it surpassed even yours."

"That was a long time ago," insisted Athena, trying not to be baited.

"I don't think Medusa has forgotten it. She still hints at using her hair of vipers to turn you into stone."

"That wretched ...!" began Athena, stopping as she realised that her long-time enemy was deliberately baiting her.

"Yes, they are gorgeous, and what do the human men now say? Chestalicious? Yes, that's it. They are all gorgeous, and chestalicious with gloriously prominent behinds, and almost no waists."

"And certainly no brains," Athena all but spat at him.

"Ah, but gorgeous, chestalicious women don't need brains," taunted Poseidon. "After all, you have got along fine for millennia without any brains."

"Ooh!" cried Athena. Despite her resolution not to be baited by Poseidon, she leant down and cursed Mary Marvellous, saying, "Forever be a gorgon."


One moment, Mary Marvellous was a gorgeous woman with pink skin and yellow hair. Then there was a soft puffing sound, and instead, she had lime green skin and writhing snakes for hair.

"What the ...?" said Freddy Kingston, before turning to stone.

"Dark glasses, everyone!" ordered Terri.

Since an earlier case [See my story, 'The Catoblepas'.], the local police had all kept a pair of Polaroid sunglasses on them at all times. In seconds, the cops all had their Polaroids on, and Deidre Morton and the others, seeing what had happened to Freddy, all looked away from the Gorgon Mary.

"Does this mean that I can have Freddy's room now?" asked Sheila Bennett.

"Sheils!" said Deidre, and most of the others.

"What? I was only asking."

"Don't look at Mary until I get back," ordered Terri.

Turning, she ran upstairs to her bedroom on the first storey.

"What is it?" asked Mary.

"Let's just say that you're not quite as marvellous as you were a minute ago," said Sheila.

A minute or so later, Terri returned with a multi-coloured, plastic shower cap, which she put on Mary to conceal the writhing snakes on her head.

"What is it, what's happened?" asked Mary.

"Your beautiful yellow hair is now writhing green snakes, and your lovely pink flesh now has a nauseating green tint," said Tommy undiplomatically.

Looking down at her green hands, Mary started squealing like a schoolgirl.

"Something tells me that this rare, delightful case has just turned into one of our usual wacky backy cases," said Jessie Baker.

"You think?" asked Sheila.


An hour later, while Stanlee Dempsey, Jessie Baker, Donald Esk, and Paul Bell all kindly protected the other five beauty queens in Deidre Morton's lounge room, Tilly Lombstrom and Topaz Moseley examined the statue which had until recently been Freddy Kingston.

"Hmmm," said Tilly, a tall, attractive, fifty-something surgeon from the Glen Hartwell Hospital, "so tell me again what happened?"

"We were standing around, doing our best to protect our six gorgeous charges," said Colin. "When we somehow failed to protect Mary Marvellous, who is now Mary Gorgon."

"And Freddy didn't look away in time," added Sheila.

"Can you cure me in time?" asked a sobbing Mary.

"Before it becomes permanent?" asked Topaz, a gorgeous, thirty-something, platinum blonde nurse.

"No, before I get disqualified from the Miss Glen Hartwell Pageant!"

"Oh, of course," said Tilly. "Well, we've never actually encountered gorgonitis before, so it's hard to say."

"And not being able to look at your snakes, without being turned to stone, doesn't help," added Topaz.

"Someone call for me?" asked Oliver Burnside, a tall, burly, grey-haired man who looked a decade older than his fifty years, stepping into the hallway.

"Yes," said Tilly, "we have a living statue for you to transport ... very gently to the basement of the Glen Hartwell Hospital."

"Very gently," stressed Topaz. "We're still hoping to find a way to turn it back to living flesh."

"So we don't need you breaking off its arms or legs," finished Terri.

"Why does everyone assume that I'm some kind of Whelan the Wrecker Wannabee?" demanded Oliver.

"Your motto on your vans, 'Use Us, Or Move It Yourself', doesn't exactly inspire confidence," said Colin.

"Screw confidence," said Burnside, "as the only removalist this side of BeauLarkin, they either hire me, or shift it themselves."

"Hey, maybe when Paul Bell and Drew Braidwood retire around the end of the year," teased Sheila, "we can convince them to set up their own removalist business, in competition with Oliver."

"Yeah, I'm sure Russell Street would advance them money on their pensions, to get them started," teased Terri Scott.

"Yeah, whatever," said Oliver, starting to remove Freddy Kingston from the house.

"And we'd better get Gorgon-Zola to the hospital," teased Tilly.

"No, my name's Mary, not Zola," insisted the lime green woman.

"All right, Gorgon-Mary," amended the brunette.

"So now what?" asked Colin after Freddy and Mary had been taken away.

"Now, we continue with our assignment to protect our beauty queens," said Terri.

"But since we were assigned to protect six women, and one of them has already been turned into a gorgon," said Sheila, "doesn't that mean that we've failed in our assignment in the first ten minutes?"

"More like the first hour, Sheils. But, yes, it does; thank you for rubbing my nose in that," said Terri.

"Sheesh, she can't take fair criticism, can she?" asked Sheila as they went into the lounge room to look after the five remaining beauties in their charge."


Over at the Chandler Hotel at the corner of Rushcutters Road and Chappell Street at Harpertown, Toni Chandler, the owner, and Piper Noel, the manageress, were greeting their new arrivals:

"Hi, I'm Veronica Va-Va-Va-Voom," cooed a tall, chestalicious brunette.

"I'll say you are," said Piper, a bisexual, only just managing not to lick her lips from excitement.

"Hello, I'm Elizabeth Exciting," said an almost Dolly-Parton-chested Blonde.

"You're certainly exciting, Elizabeth," said Maxwell Collins, a twenty-year-old dark-haired waiter.

"I'm Sasha Sensational," said a short but curvaceous Eurasian woman.

"I'm Barbara Beautiful," said a tall, half-Aboriginal lady, who lived up to her new name.

"Yes, yes, you are," said Maxwell and Piper as one.

"I'm Angelica Awesome," said a white blonde goddess.

"You're the most awesome thing I've seen in years," agreed Maxwell, making the blonde giggle.

"I'm Irene Impressive," said a tall, ravishing Latina.

"Yes, yes, you are," said Piper Noel.

"I'm Lizabeth Luscious," said a tall redhead in her early twenties.

"Once again, no arguments from me," said Maxwell.

The final beauty was a tall, alabaster-skinned woman with pale white hair, who identified herself as Samantha Superb.

"Now, if we've finished the introductions and the drooling," Toni teased, "we need to sort out the sleeping arrangements." I'm afraid that some of you will have to share beds."

"I'll share with any of them," offered Maxwell.

"Thanks, but I think, since we're supposed to keep them safe, we'll have our contestants sleeping with other ladies. Tina and I will share, so that two of our ladies can take over her room. Then with two per room, we'll have no problems."

"Damn, I was so close to realising every dream I've ever dreamt," said Maxwell.

"Sorry, Max, you were light-years away," said Toni, making the waiter blush and the eight beauties giggle."

After the rooms had been sorted out, Toni said, "You arrived too late for breakfast, but I'm sure Gerda, our chef, can get you something to eat."

"Oh, we don't eat food," said Elizabeth Exciting, "it's bad for the figure. But if you have any Sao or Salada crackers, we could probably manage one or two of those each."

"Okay, I'll just go enquire," said Toni.


"What do you mean, they don't eat food?" demanded Gerda Andersen, a tall Amazonian blonde. "I have eight extra guests here, and they refuse to eat my wonderful cuisine?"

"It's not just your food ... It seems food in general is bad for their figures."

"What figures?" demanded Gerda. Storming through the dining room, she opened the door to the reception area a crack to look out at the eight beauties. "They're all top-heavy and bottom-heavy, with nothing in the middle. They desperately need to eat my food. Lots of my food."

"Maybe, but for now, do you have any Salada or Sao crackers?"

"What?" demanded the Amazonian blonde.

Relieved to finally return to the medium-sized, dirty, jaundice-yellow walled reception area, Toni said, "She's just bringing them now."

"Yes, we heard," said Tina Teasdale, the new maid, an eighteen-year-old short, pretty blonde.

"She said to go and wait in the TV room," said Toni, contritely.

In the pale blue-walled lounge room-cum-TV room, they had barely sat down on two of the four four-person green sofas when Gerda burst into the room, pushing a tiny trolley with unopened boxes of Saladas and Saos.

"Help yourselves," said the Amazonian blonde, turning to storm away before anyone could complain.

"She suffers from mood swings," apologised Maxwell Collins. Who, as a waiter, stood and started serving the gorgeous women their Salada or Sao crackers. "Maybe I can go into town later to buy some Ritz or Jatz crackers."

"Good idea, Max," agreed Toni Chandler.


Up in Olympus, beautiful Athena was looking down at the eight gorgeous women in the lounge room of the Chandler Hotel in Harpertown.

"What is this, Athena, ogling gorgeous Earth women again?" teased Poseidon, God of the Sea. "If I didn't know better, I would swear that you were going a bit like Hermaphroditus taking your pleasure from either sex."

"How dare you, you ... seafaring pig?"

"Seafaring pig?" queried Poseidon. "I've been called many things in my time, but never a seafaring pig before."

"Would you prefer a marine boar?" demanded the beautiful goddess.

"As long as you don't call me a coarse boor."

"You're a coarse boor!"

"Ouch, that hurt, so little," teased Poseidon, glancing down into the lounge room at the Chandler. "My, there are some rare beauties here. I thought the six gorgeous creatures at that Yellow House were divine, but these eight put the other six to shame."

"They're all right ... as human women go," conceded Athena.

"Especially that alabaster-skinned blonde," said Poseidon, sighing from blatant lust. "I'm tempted to do great Zeus's trick, turn myself into a swan to go down there and ravish her."

"You mean that albino? She's all right as albinos go."

"Hardly an albino. She has pale, translucent white skin and pale, almost invisible white-pink hair, but albinos have pink eyes. This ravishing beauty has baby blue eyes. I think the most beautiful blue eyes that I have ever seen."

Looking again, Athena insisted, "She's nothing special."

" Samantha Superb, I think she said her name was," teased the god of seafarers, "and she is indeed an awesome creature. The others are gorgeous in their own way ... but next to ravishing Samantha Superb, they are what I believe human beings call Fidos."

"Go down and ravish her, for all I care," said Athena.

"In fact, my dear Athena, compared to the ravishing pale blonde, you are what Earthlings call a Fido."

"What!" shrieked the goddess. "How dare thee?"

Glaring down at Samantha Superb, Athena cursed her, saying, "May thee be a Fido, Samantha Superb. May you have the features and hairiness of a Borzoi, a Russian Wolfhound!"


In the pale blue-walled lounge room-cum-TV room, Maxwell Collins was still passing around Salada and Sao crackers to the eight gorgeous contestants when there was a loud puff, and Samantha Superb suddenly resembled a Borzoi, a Russian Wolfhound, facially.

Grabbing a whole box of Salada crackers from Maxwell, the hairy-faced beauty started to wolf them down like the Borzoi that she now resembled.

As the other seven beauties started to scream, Toni reached for her mobile phone to ring Terri Scott.


Fifty minutes later, Terri, Colin, Sheila, Jesus Costello, and two paramedics were standing in the pale blue lounge room examining the still beautiful dog-woman.

"She reminds me of the character Olga, from Hotel Transylvania," said Sheila. "Olga is a Russian Wolfhound with enormous knockers and a huge bubble butt too."

"Sheils!" called Terri as Jesus examined the Borzoi-blonde.

"Yip! Yip!" said Samantha, before happily scoffing down a three-centimetre thick steak, hand-fed to her by Gerda Andersen.

"Well, at least her appetite has improved," said Gerda. "Before, she wouldn't eat food."

"And her nose is cold now," teased Sheila. "That's a good sign."

"Sheils!" said Colin this time.

"So, what's the verdict, Jesus?" asked Terri.

"Well," said Jesus, the administrator of the Glen Hartwell and Daley Community Hospital, "Like Sheila's Olga, she is definitely a Russian Wolfhound with enormous knockers and a huge bubble butt too. Other than that, I'm stumped."

"So she's a dog-woman, as opposed to a bitch?" asked Sheila.

"Sheils! I am gonna have to demote you back to streetwalker soon," said Terri.

"You threatened me with that two years ago,' said Sheila. "And I checked and found that there is no such rank."

"Yes, well, I'm still trying to convince Leslie Harrison to unretire and rejoin the force. Maybe if I offer to demote you and make him the new Chief Constable, that might do the trick."

"Now you're just being mean," sulked Sheila.

"Yip! Yip!" said Samantha-Borzoi.

"I think she wants another steak," said Tina Teasdale, the maid.

"Coming right up," said Gerda Andersen, heading back toward her kitchen. "This is what I like, a girl ... dog with a healthy appetite."

"So," said Suzette Cummings, "we're less than half a day into our assignment, and we've already failed twice."

"Technically, this wasn't our failure, since we weren't protecting these ladies," pointed out Colin.

"You're saying that it's our fault?' demanded Toni Chandler.

"Well, they were in your care," said Wendy Pearson, a forty-six-year-old honey blonde who looked more like a fashion model than a cop.

"How did I know that the gorgeous-faced woman was going to suddenly turn into the dog-faced woman?"

"If this keeps going on, we could open our own freak circus soon," said Alice Walker, a forty-seven-year-old brunette. An amateur weight-lifter and gym mate of Sheila on Saturdays.

"Alice, you're getting as bad as Sheila!" said Terri.

"How dare you?" said Sheila and Alice.

"So what about the remaining beauties at the Imperial Hotel in Willamby?" asked Suzette.

"Shit, yes," said Terri. "We need to put someone in there undercover."

"As beauty contestants?" asked Colin.

"Exactly."

"Then it has to be you, Wendy, or Suzette," said Alice. "They're not likely to believe bodybuilder chicks like Sheila or me."

"In which case, it has to be Suzette," said Sheila.

"How come?" asked a startled Suzette.

"Because Marvellous Mary and Superb Samantha were both blondes. As are Terri and Wendy, which increases their chances of being the next victim. Being raven-haired, you should be safe."

"I'm not happy with that term 'should be'," said Suzette.

"And if the worst comes to the worst, I personally will take you out walkies every day."

"Sheils, you are not helping."

"Yip! Yip!" said Samantha-Borzoi, as Jesus Costello led her out to the ambulance to be taken to the hospital for observation.

"Well, she seems happy enough as a doggy," said Sheila.

"And she's eating better now," agreed Gerda Andersen.


Over at the Imperial Hotel, formerly the Pittsburgh Hotel, at Gordon Street, Willamby, they were welcoming their five beauty contestants.

"Hi," said a towering blonde of twenty-eight, elbowing herself in her enormous chest whenever she turned a little, "I'm Honey Potts. And I'm a beauty queen."

"Honey, this isn't BQA, Beauty Queens Anonymous," said Cameron 'Cam' Pollock, the owner of the rather shabby hotel. "You don't have to apologise."

"Sorry," said Honey in a Minnie Mouse voice.

"I'm Deborah Darling," announced a tall, chestalicious brunette.

"You can be my darling anytime, Deborah," said Earl Grayson, a tall, muscular forty-something border with dark hair.

"Well, thank you," cooed Deborah.

"Down, boy!" said Leila Feinberg, a short, pretty brunette of seventeen, the waitress-cum-maid-cum-general dogsbody. Used to being the centre of attention amongst the male residents, she did not appreciate being upstaged.

"Hello," said a bouncy redhead, "I'm Amanda Amazing."

"You're certainly that, gorgeous," said Earl, making the redhead giggle, and Leila glare at him.

"Hello," said a gorgeous night-black woman in her late teens or early twenties, "I'm Beyonce Breathtaking."

"You certainly are breathtaking, Beyonce," said Earl, producing more giggling and a grrr noise from Leila.

Finally, a short, but curvaceous Latina said, "I'm Pretty Petunia."

"Gorgeous Petunia, more like it," said Earl, trying to do a wolf whistle, but not being able to whistle.

"Thank you," cooed Petunia.

"Oh, shut up, Earl!" cried Leila, unable to contain herself any longer.

"Leila! Less sulking, more greeting our beautiful guests!" said Heidi Pollock, a tall, busty, forty-something redhead.

"Hi," cooed Leila in her best bimbo voice.

"Hi," the five beauties cooed back, not realising that they were being teased.


In the helicopter on the way to the Imperial Hotel, Suzette Cummings was still trying to weasel her way out of joining the beauty contest.

"What about our five remaining beauties at the Yellow House?" demanded the raven-haired teenager.

"Don't worry," said Terri, "Don Esk, Stanlee Dempsey, Jessie Baker, Paul Bell, and Drew Braidwood have volunteered to watch after them in rotation if necessary for the next twelve days."

"Very chivalrous of them," said Sheila with a laugh.

"I'm just not beauty queen material," insisted Suzette.

"You're plenty beautiful, Suzette," said Louie Pascall.

"See," said Terri, "and he has watched every telecast of Miss Nude Australia since it started in the early 1990s."

"I wish," said Louie, starting their descent around the back of the Imperial Hotel. "But they don't broadcast it for some reason."

"Those bastards," teased Colin as they alighted from the chopper.


Inside the Imperial Hotel, they were just assigning bedrooms for the beauties when Terri, Suzette and the others entered the yellow-walled reception area.

"So, how are you getting along with your six beautiful ladies?" asked Terri.

"Five beautiful ladies," corrected Heidi Pollock. "One of them chickened out and returned to BeauLarkin, after we heard wild rumours of a gorgon running rampant through Glen Hartwell."

"How do these rumours get started?" asked Colin.

"That's the sort of wacky rumour that I usually start," said Sheila. "But not on this occasion."

"Well, you're back up to six," said Terri. "We have a late starter for you, Suzette...."

"Suzette Sexy-One," said Sheila, "that's a hyphenated surname 'Sexy-One'."

"Sexy-One?" asked Suzette.

"We have to keep with the naming tradition," insisted the Goth policewoman.

"Isn't she one of your police officers?" asked Leila Feinberg.

"Only a trainee," pointed out Terri.

"So until her final testing, she is eligible."

"Well, best of luck," said Leila begrudgingly. "You're not bad looking, but most of them have spent at least thirty grand on plastic surgery."

"Isn't there some kind of limit within these pageants?" asked Suzette.

"Yeah, I thought the contestants couldn't be more than twenty percent plastic to be eligible Down Under?" asked Sheila.

"You wish," said Leila. "Most of these women have more plastic on them than the Bionic Woman."

"Less nattering, more helping with the booking in," said Heidi Pollock.

"Heidi, Cam, we need to talk to you before booking them in," said Terri.

Leila and the Pollocks walked across to talk to the police in private. Terri explained what had happened at the Yellow House and the Chandler Hotel:

"So it only seems to be the blondes in danger," finished Terri.

"We only have one blonde contestant, Honey Potts," said Heidi.;

"Honey Potts? Seriously?" asked Sheila, unable to resist laughing.

"Quiet, Sheils," said Colin.

"So we need Suzette, as a sort of guard, to share a room with Miss Potts," said Terri, cupping her mouth, before also laughing.

"Okay, they were going to have to share rooms anyway," said Cam.

"Most of our male guests had already volunteered to share with them," said Leila. "In which case, turning into stone, or becoming bloodhounds, might have been the least of their worries."

"She's just jealous because the male rezzies aren't offering to share their rooms with her anymore," teased Heidi.

"At least I'm one hundred percent flesh and blood," sulked Leila. "Without any plastic bits."

"I bet you would get them if you could afford it, though," said Cam Pollock, making Leila glare at him, and everyone else laugh.

After the Pollocks had returned to the beauties, Suzette whispered, "Do I get my meals choppered in from Mrs. Miggins?"

"'Fraid not, Suzette Sexy-One," teased Colin. "You have to take potluck."

"Ooh, I knew I would hate this assignment," said the raven-haired teen as they went across to the plastic-topped reception counter.

"Well, first up," said Heidi Pollock, "Honey Potts and Suzette Sexy-One get to room together in Room 324. It's a single room, but it does have a small double-sized bed."

"Well, that's better than no bed at all," cooed Honey Potts.

"My sentiments exactly," teased Suzette, taking the key to room 324. Walking across to the silver-doored elevator, she called, "Follow me, Honey, walkies."

Not detecting the sarcasm, the blonde wiggled after the raven-haired teen.

Ten minutes later, they were lying on the small double bed together, having unpacked their suitcases, which Maxwell Collins had brought up for them.

"So what do you think, Honey?" asked Suzette.

"The ceiling could use a coat of paint," said the blonde.

Looking up at the peeling white paint, Suzette said, "Yes. I think the other girls got the best two places, the Yellow House, and the Chandler Hotel."

"What's the Yellow House?"

"It's the nickname given to Deidre Morton's boarding house in Merridale. She's a superb cook. But there are only three floors, including the ground floor."

"Travelling around a lot, like I do, I'm pretty used to getting crappy food," admitted the gorgeous blonde. "You don't get cordoned blue in the pageant circuit."

"I'm sorry," said the ravenette, feeling genuine sympathy for the blonde. "I'll have to see if we can get you a meal from Mrs. Miggins, my landlady, before you leave. She's a great cook too."

"Ooh, that would be fab," said Honey, leaning across to hug the ravenette.


"Well, well, we have two great beauties here," said Poseidon, looking over Athena's shoulder to see into room 324 at the Imperial Hotel, Willamby.

"Stop trying to look down my cleavage!" ordered the beautiful goddess.

"What cleavage?" responded the god of seafarers. "You're flat-chested compared to those two chestalicious creatures. So young, so smooth-skinned."

"I'll give them young and smooth-skinned!" cried Athena, cursing Suzette and Honey: "May your flesh wrinkle and wither and your youth slip away, so that you both become hideous old crones."


Suzette and Honey were just getting ready to go down again for lunch when there was a puff above their heads, and then their vision started to fade a little.

"Have the lights suddenly dimmed a little?" asked Suzette in a creaky, little-old-lady voice.

"Either that or my stigmatism is getting worse," said Honey.

"What stigmatism?" asked Suzette.

The two women sat up, with difficulty, looked at each other's wrinkled, dried-prune complexions and started to scream.


An hour later, both women were being taken by air-ambulance helicopter to the hospital.

"You swore that as a raven, I'd be safe," squeaked Suzette.

"Sorry," said Sheila, before bursting into tears and laying her head against the old lady's chest.

"Sheils, get in or get out," said the pilot, "we have to take off."

Sheila climbed into the chopper and was soon being whisked away with Suzette and Honey.

"So now we're two cops down," said Alice Walker.

"Go back with Louie Pascall and tell Stanlee and Jessie, they are now off guard duty," said Terri. "I'll activate the two pro rata women, Hilly and Greta, to take over guard duty there."

"Gotcha, Chief," said Alice, running across to Louie Pascall's Bell Huey.

"So now what?" asked Wendy Pearson. "Now that the blondes only pattern has been broken."

"Now, we try to get the contest postponed until January, which in the warm weather would have made more sense in the first place," said Terri.

"And we still need to find a way to reverse what has already been done to Freddy, Mary, Honey, and Suzette," added Colin.

"Maybe it's time to give our Wiccan witch friend another visit," suggested Terri.


1/21 Calhoun Street, Glen Hartwell, is the right-hand side of a subdivided white weatherboard house. Inside lived Magnolia McCready, a tall, busty, forty-eight-year-old redhead with electric-blue eyes. A white witch, who had helped them out on many occasions in the past.

They were soon sitting down in the turquoise coloured living room, with cups of white tea and Tim-Tam biscuits, with a huge, fluffy, white tomcat sitting at Magnolia's feet, staring up at the Tim-Tam that she was nibbling.

"So what's the problem this time?" asked the Wiccan, tossing part of the chocolate biscuit to Timmikins.

Terri quickly reviewed what had happened so far in less than a day.

Considering, Magnolia asked, "Have you heard the legend of Medusa?"

"She was an ugly gorgon," said Colin.

"Not originally. Originally, she was a beautiful blonde, with long curly locks, who made the mistake of boasting that she was more beautiful than the Goddess Athena. Greek gods and goddesses never were very good at taking criticism.

"So, Athena cursed her, turning her pink skin green, and turning her long yellow tresses into writhing snakes, which made anyone beholding them turn into a stone statue."

"Like with Marvellous Mary," said Alice.

"Yes," said the white witch. "But my point is that having done what she did to Medusa out of Jealousy...."

"Athena might be at it again," finished Terri Scott.

"Exactly."

"Can you call her to us, so that Sheils can shoot her with the bazooka?" asked Alice.

"A Greek goddess?" asked Magnolia. "Do you have any idea how powerful gods and goddesses are?"

"Well, no, since I was brought up to believe that Yahwe/Jehovah was the one and only God."

"Well, it seems you were wrong," said the Wiccan.

"So what can you do?" asked Colin.

"I can try to establish a meeting with Zeus, the chief amongst the Greek gods. Then, after telling him what we think Athena has done, we can ask him if he will instruct her to undo what she has done to Freddy, Suzette and the beauty queens."

"And if he refuses?" asked Terri. "Or you cannot get him to even talk to us?"

"Then Suzette and Honey Potts don't have long to live, Mary Marvellous may live to a ripe old age, as a Gorgon. Freddy Kingston will have to get used to being an oversized door stop, and Samantha Superb's only contests in future will be dog shows."

"Yeech!" said Alice.

"When can we start?" asked Terri.

"I should be ready to start requesting a call from Mighty Zeus about ten PM. Until then, you can either wait here, harassing me, or better yet return to the Yellow House to have your tea."


Arriving a little late for tea, Terri, Colin, and Sheila were relieved to find that there was plenty of food left.

"It's my marvellous, not too spicy meatloaf, and steamed veggies tonight," said Deidre Morton.

"Yum, yum," said Sheila, " so what's the problem?"

"Our beautiful guests won't eat food. They say it spoils their figures. I had to send out for a large order of cracker biscuits."

"Well, the good news is, I've convinced the organisers to postpone the Miss Glen Hartwell Contest until mid-December," said Terri.

"So Terri and I will be away on our honeymoon cruise, upon the Eunice is my Honey, with Eunice and George," said Colin.

"So if Athena starts playing tricks again in December, I'm the poor Charlene Muggins, who'll get stuck sorting it out?" asked Sheila.

"Absolutely," said Terri, grinning. "So our gorgeous girlies will all be leaving tomorrow."

"Has anyone broken the news yet to Paul, Drew, and the other overly helpful males in the local constabulary?" asked Natasha Lipzing.

"No, we'll let them have a good cry tomorrow morning," teased Sheila.

"In the meantime, we have to scoff down some of Mrs. M.'s divine meatloaf, then head back to Calhoun Street," said Colin.


It was ten PM on the dot when they returned to 1/21 Calhoun Street, Glen Hartwell.

"Hey, what happened to Timmikins?" asked Alice, looking around for the tomcat.

"I've got him locked away in the bedroom," said Magnolia. "Strangely enough, he tends to panic when visions of ancient gods suddenly appear in the lounge room."

"Funnily, my Mum's Ginger Tomkins, so named because he was ginger ...."

"And a tomcat?" guessed the Wiccan.

"How did you know? Anyway, during lightning or thunderstorms, he would run and hide in my bed."

"You mean under your bed?" asked Colin.

"No, in my bed. I was only a nipper then and was afraid of thunder and lightning too ... so we'd snuggle up under the blankets for comfort."

"Interesting, but please shut up now, I have to try to communicate with a powerful God. Just hoping that he won't get angry and turn us all to stone ... or something much worse. And when I say shut up, I especially mean you, Sheila."

"What could be worse than being turned to stone?"

"Ask Suzette or Honey if you're still alive later," whispered Colin.

"Oh Great Zeus, Chief God of the Olympians, the twelve Greatest Greek deities who dwell upon exalted Mount Olympus. We mere mortals need to seek your guidance, need your assistance, need your compassion..." began Magnolia.

For more than an hour, the white witch continued mixing her potions and making her entreaties to Zeus. Finally, there was a small explosion and a large white cloud appeared, hovering above Magnolia and the police.

After a few seconds, an image began to appear in the cloud. The image of the head and shoulders of a mature, bearded man, with long curly black hair, and a long black beard.

"What mere mortal dares to summon mighty Zeus, the greatest god of Mount Olympus?" demanded Zeus, in a deep, booming, almost deafening voice.

"Not summon," Magnolia hurried to clarify. "Just requesting a meeting with the Great God, Zeus."

"Regarding what?" demanded Zeus.

"Regarding Athena. You know how she turned beautiful Medusa into a Gorgon out of jealousy?"

"Of course, I know," roared the god.

"Well, I'm afraid she's been up to her old tricks again ... here in Glen Hartwell and surrounding towns."

"Oh?" asked a puzzled sounding Zeus.

Trying to be succinct and not stammer too much, Magnolia told the great god what Athena had done to Freddy, Suzette, and the beauty queens.

"Oh, I see," said Zeus, no longer sounding threatening. "Very well, I will order Athena to undo what she has done in Glen Hartwell and question her about why she did it." He hesitated for a moment, then said, "You have my apologies."

Then his face image vanished from the cloud, which in turn faded away.

"Did I hallucinate it," asked Terri, "or did we just have a god apologise to us?"

"We must have all hallucinated it," said Magnolia. "Gods never admit their mistakes, let alone apologise to mere mortals."


Up in Mount Olympus, Zeus roared his rage at Athena, who passed as much of the blame as possible to Poseidon, who initially denied it, then finally confessed to baiting the beautiful goddess.

"I will decide your punishments later!" boomed Zeus. "For now, Athena, reverse all of the things you have done to the beauty queens and others on Earth within the last twenty-four hours."

"Yes, Father Zeus," said the chastened goddess, "hoping to get back into Zeus's good books."

She hurriedly uncursed the three beauty queens, Suzette Cummings, and returned Freddy Kingston to flesh and blood.


Terri and the others had barely returned to the Yellow House when the hospital rang to inform them of the recoveries of everyone.

"Do you think we could call on Zeus again to tackle other demons?" asked Sheila Bennett.

"I wouldn't push it, Sheils," said Terri. "Just be grateful he forced Athena to undo all her naughtiness."

"And equally importantly, didn't slaughter us all," said Colin.


The next day, the beauty queens all left, to the dismay of Paul Bell, Drew Braidwood, and the other male cops of the area. And Suzette Cummings kept her promise to take Honey Potts home for a meal from Mrs. Miggins.

"Honey Potts, that's an unusual name?" said the old lady, serving them some of her famous beef stew.

"It says Gladys Humphreys on my birth certificate, but that wasn't fancy enough for the people who run the pageants."

"Still, Honey is a nice name," said Suzette.


"Stop crying, you big sissies," said Sheila Bennett as the last of the beauty queens departed the Yellow House. "You may have lost some gorgeous women to ogle ... But importantly, Venice and I get our big room back."

"Who wants to strangle her?" asked Stanlee Dempsey, only half jokingly.

"Sounds good to me," said Drew Braidwood, and in no time, Sheila was being chased around the lounge room by five of her subordinates.

"I outrank you all, you know!" pleaded the Goth policewoman.

THE END
© Copyright 2025 Philip Roberts
Melbourne, Victoria, Australia