Saline

 

The dark satanic 'roo, whilst thinking on questions of divine relevance, boinged from the roof of the hospital into... nothing. Well not nothing exactly, more a... recycled nothing. Not white, but a sort of speckled off grey. A gentle bright-ish luminescence, which didn't quite hurt the eyes, but made them a bit squinty. Like salt - if you bounced a light source off it and filtered it through a dirty lense.

 

He had a salty taste on his tongue.

 

< Tis the taste of discovery > said a voice in his mind.

 

"Am I in a British Rail advert?" he said to the voice.

 

< Are you an anachronism? >

 

"I am a kangaroo, I don't understand what 'anachronism' means."

 

< Just as I thought >

 

He was more confused than you would imagine a dark satanic 'roo could be.

 

 

 

The 'roo did a poo.

 

< Really? >

 

"A 'roo's gotta poo."

 

The voice sighed.

 

Following the strain of excretion, the product thereto sublimated and dispersed into a plasma of its deconstructed molecules.

 

<No need to flush > explained the voice.

 

"Practical," said the 'roo.

 

< What is your name? >

 

"Never really thought of it... being a kangaroo."

 

< You shall henceforth be called John >

 

"Hmm."

 

< Lucifer? >

 

"Better."

 

< Come, Lucifer, and meet your destiny >

 

"Might as well."

 

 

 

Lucifer the dark satanic 'roo boinged off towards his destiny - but then he realised he didn't know where it was.

 

"Got a sat nav?"

 

< Don't be ridiculous >

 

"A map?"

 

< Hang on >

 

A piece of paper appeared, upon which an invisible pencil drew an arrow - pointing straight up.

 

< Go on then >

 

Lucifer boinged.

 

 

 

Straight up.

 

Through ten thousand colours and an array of textures that brought to mind an all-you-can-eat pudding buffet.

 

And sandpaper.

 

"Ow!" said Lucifer.

 

< Sorry > said the voice.

 

He ended up on a football pitch-sized paper doily that was of a whiteness so bright, it made his toes itch.

 

The voice was sucked unceremoniously out of his head and coalesced into the form of a small grey hamster.

 

"Come on," said the hamster - and off it scurried.

 

Lucifer had no choice but to go where the hamster went.

 

When they got to the centre of the doily, the hamster stopped.

 

"What?" said Lucifer.

 

"Shh," said the hamster.

 

And they waited.

 

And God appeared.

 

Only it wasn't God, it was a truffle.

 

"God is a truffle?" said Lucifer.

 

"If that's how you see Him," said the hamster.

 

"But I don't even like truffles."

 

"Interesting..."

 

Lucifer looked at the hamster.

 

"And I suppose you see me as a small, furry rodent."

 

"Aren't you a-?"

 

"Don't be ridiculous."

 

The Truffle spoke:

 

"YOU HAVE BEEN THINKING."

 

"... Yes."

 

"ABOUT GOD."

 

"That kind of thing."

 

"HAVE YOU EVER WONDERED?"

 

"What?"

 

"WHY YOU ARE NOT LIKE OTHER KANGAROOS...?"

 

"Can't say I have."

 

"LOOK AT YOURSELF..."

 

A thousand TV screens appeared, on which were a thousand images of the dark satanic 'roo.

 

"AND THIS," said the Truffle, "IS A NORMAL KANGAROO." - upon which the thousand became one and Lucifer beheld the biggest picture of a 'normal' kangaroo he had ever seen (with the words 'National Geographic' in the corner).

 

"DO YOU EVER TALK TO NORMAL KANGAROOS?"

 

"Occasionally."

 

"AND WHAT DO THEY TALK ABOUT?"

 

"They don't really talk, they just-"

 

"BOING?"

 

"Yes."

 

"AND HOW MANY OF THEM HANG OUT ON HOSPITAL ROOFS?"

 

"Erm..."

 

"DO YOU SEE?"

 

"Okay I'm different, so what?"

 

"YOU ARE NOT JUST DIFFERENT, LUCIFER THE DARK SATANIC 'ROO."

 

"Lucifer isn't my real name."

 

"LUCIFER IS YOUR TRUE NAME, MY ETERNAL NEMESIS."

 

"What? Now hang on just a-"

 

"DO NOT FEAR, BEELZEBUB."

 

"Beelzebub?! But I thought you said-"

 

"YOU GO BY MANY NAMES. YOU ARE LEGION."

 

"I am most certainly not-!"

 

"YOU ARE-"

 

"Will you stop interrupting?!"

 

"NOW WHO'S INTERRUPTING?"

 

"Now hang on a minute, Mr Truffle or God or whoever you are! You drag me up here, to this oversized table decoration, then you start throwing out accusations about me being the embodiment of all evil! I mean, how do I know you're not just a giant chocolate confection with a chip on his shoulder?"

 

"(chocolate chip)" sniggered the hamster.

 

"YOU stay OUT of IT," said the Truffle and the 'roo in unison.

 

"Well...?"

 

"OKAY YOU got me," said the truffle, as it shrunk down to normal size. "Had you going for a minute, though, didn't I?"

 

"I don't like truffles," said the 'roo, as he popped it in his gob. "But anything to shut you up."

 

***