GORGEOUS

Athena, Greek Goddess of beauty, 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 thirty-something women 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 right."
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 the ladies are all safe."
"What from all the monsters and maniacs that inhabit Glen Hartwell?"
Seeing the shocked looks on the faces of Mary and Wanda, Terri said, "Also, any would-be gropers, and hard-core feminists who might picket the contest."
"Damned 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, 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 bountiful in 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 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 up the stairs to her bedroom on the first storey.
"What is it?" asked Mary.
"Let's just say that you're not as marvellous as you were a minute ago," said Sheila.
A minute 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.

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 that 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 contest!"
"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 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 horse.
"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 figure?" demanded Gerda. Storming through the dining room, she opened the door to the reception area a crack to look 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 one 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 Jantz crackers."
"Good idea, Max," agreed Toni Chandler.




The Twelve Olympians are the major deities of Greek mythology, known for residing on Mount Olympus. The standard twelve include Zeus, Hera, Poseidon, Demeter, Athena, Apollo, Artemis, Ares, Hephaestus, Aphrodite, Hermes, and either Hestia or Dionysus.

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