2006-04-25 0953 Writing: Three Elvises walk into a bar.

Now this is how it’s done

Three Elvises walk into a bar.
You may laugh, but I was there, it’s true. Three Elvises. Elvii. Whatever. First strode in the bishop: big as life and twice as wide, identified as he was by his high-collared cape, resplendent in rhinestones and the golden sunglasses of his office. Behind him swaggered a priest, her jumpsuit less ornate, her belt-buckle smaller, her cape shorter. Last was a neonate, still in training but wearing the blue suede shoes of one who was near priest-hood. Now, he didn’t have the broad steps of the other two, wasn’t much more than a boy, but he held his pompadour just as proudly

The Purifying Flames Of Burning Love over at 365tomorrows, my favouritest site, ever.

Like this post? Why not buy me a coffee? Thank you.

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.