Madam Glory, a damn good looker, said she’d channel a cure for my arthritis. Afraid of spooky spirits, I asked exactly what she’d channel.
 
“Heavenly Energy,” she said.

Sounded goofy, but my arthritis was worse than ever. I was willing to try anything. Besides, she only charged ten bucks.

I stretched out on a table in her treatment room, while she donned a rainbow-colored ceremonial robe, lit a bunch of scented candles, and turned on New Age music.

“Are you comfortable, Mr. White?”

“Yeah,” I said. “But you let a black cat in here. Cats make me itchy. Where is it?”

“She’s at my feet. I like her near when I heal. Perhaps Heavenly Energy will graciously cure your cat allergy today.”

“That’d be nice. But ask it to do my knee first.” Thinking I’d impress her with my esoteric knowledge, I added, “Is that cat your familiar?”

The cat growled.

“I don’t work with familiar spirits!” she screamed, slamming both fists into the wall.

I couldn’t believe the huge holes her dainty hands had punched into the wallboard. What a helluva wallop! I better get the hell outta here.

As I rose to leave, she said, “Don’t be frightened. I work only with angels.”

“Good angels, or bad?”

“The best. You’ll find this treatment wonderfully thrilling.”

Somehow the top of her robe had loosened slightly, revealing charms men kill for.

Well, maybe I can stay just a little longer. I like what she said about wonderfully thrilling. And my knee hurts bad.

“Fix your eyes on the crystal,” she said.

“Which one? There’s a hundred of them,” I said, stealing glances at her ripeness.

“The purple crystal hanging directly above your head.”

Reluctantly, I shifted my gaze.

“Hush, now,” she said, “or you’ll break the heavenly ties. Lie very still. Keep staring at the crystal.”

After a few moments of disquieting silence, she began to chant weird words in a shrill, soprano voice. As she continued, her voice fell three octaves. I could have sworn the cat joined in. The sounds unnerved me.

The next thing I knew, she said something in the deepest male voice I’d ever heard. I opened my eyes to make sure she was still there and not some unearthly entity. She was standing close to me with eyes closed, face turned upward, arms outstretched. I could have sworn her face was vibrating when she said, “Dear Charlie, who doth lie here with soreness of knee, we bid thee welcome. It hast been some span of what thou callest time since thou hast allowed a conscious connection with the brotherhood. In truth, thou hast never left Us.”

I wasn’t sure who Us or the brotherhood was—unless she meant my plumber’s union.

“Stop what thou art thinking,” Us said. “Give us a place in thy thoughts and mind.”

Suddenly, the voice changed and a loving female said, “We truly love thee.”

The alluring voice aroused me. I hadn’t heard such an enticing female voice since I was fourteen, when Lulu stripped and asked if I wanted to fool around. A thrill shot through me when I realized the voice was Lulu’s!

I found myself visualizing Lulu and me lying naked in the forest. She gently touched my face, chest, stomach, then reached lower. Whew! Madam Glory was right. This IS thrilling.

The voice changed to that of another female. Sounded like the History teacher who gave me an F. “We want to have a place in thy mind and thoughts... just for a little while. Let us in!”

Forget my mind. Stick with my body. My mind’s already filled. My wife’s there 24-7. There ain’t no room left in my thoughts for an invasion by females from the netherworld. Who needs more nags?

“We ask thee again to put thy mind aside so we may speak to thee.” Madam Glory sounded weak, as if somebody was turning down a volume control.

Now there’s something I should invent. A volume control knob for the mouth. Probably would sell dozens to every male on the planet.

Her voice got so low, she sounded as if she needed a gigantic shot of vitamin B-12.

“Thou can still hear us, perhaps not as loudly, but we still speak.”

Why the hell can’t she just say, “Heavenly Energy, heal this guy’s knee, Amen?”

Switching to a sad voice, she continued, “There is a radio that thou hast placed at the end of the counter. And thou hast reached with thy hand to turn down the volume. We ask thee to change to another station which is clearer.”

I don’t understand this talk about a radio. I wish Us would cut the crap and get working on my bad knee. It hurts like hell. I wonder what Us really wants?

“Your soul!” shouted an unearthly voice.

Oh man! That came from the cat’s direction!

“Madam Glory, I hate to interrupt. But I think your cat just said something very scary.”

“Shhh,” she said. “Don’t speak. You’ll break contact with Heavenly Energy.”

Her voice changed to a male’s again. “We ask thee to open and allow us in. It’s such a small thing to ask. And stop thinking. Let us think for thee.”

Don’t think for myself? Us sounds like a bunch of damn politicians from la-la-land.

“We know thy mind says ‘no’. Thou doth leave us limited options. Like crumbs left on a table, but not the bread or the loaf.”

This talk about baked goods is making me hungry. Man, could I ever go for a slice of coconut custard pie. Or a sticky bun.

“Heavenly Energy knows all, sees all,” Us said. “We know thou hast injured thy knee while diddling thy neighbor’s wife.”

Dammit! That’s top secret. How the hell could anybody know about me and Elsie?

“C’mon, Madam Glory,” I snapped, “fix my knee, already! Unless you wanna make believe you’re my neighbor’s wife for ten minutes. Now that’d be some well-spent heavenly energy.”

I reached for Madam’s melons.

The cat screeched, jumped onto my chest, and attacked me with hellish energy. Grabbing it by the neck, I twisted hard, and flung it against the wall.

“You killed my cat!” Madam yelled. She attacked me so ferociously, I had to deck her before she slammed me with her wall-busting knuckles.

After checking to make sure she was still breathing, I stomped the cat’s head a few times to make sure it’d never be able to come after my soul. Then I charged outta there, sneezing all the way to my car.

So much for channeled healings and heavenly energies. No more alternative cures for me. I’ll just stick with over-the-counter painkillers at the dollar store. Unless that doctor who advertises in the Weekly Shocker can cure my knee with his Multilinear Anti-Ossifier.