address finding mac network

I felt like a�spotlight had been switched on and directed right inside my brain. Alan snatching away the photo had been the premature end to an event that we are all meant to go through, except we are not supposed to have Alan witnessing and mucking it up. He held out the picture to�the official who finally gave him some recognition and nodded and took the picture from his hand.

"Heapos;s coming with me. He wants to, donapos;t you Lucas? "�he said to me over his shoulder. I was on my knees, trying to get the flooding images of my life out from between my ears. I didnapos;t reply. The official stepped out from behind the counter and barred the way to�the massive wooden door. The light in the room changed to a darker hue, there was a familiar orange and blackness creeping in from around the edges of that door. Alan picked me up and�hauled me over to the exit.�And all I could see in my head�was�Action Man, with his new parachute.�

"You cannot stop me, there is nothing wrong with what I am doing. This man has agreed to go with me. He has given me his soul. Therefore I have an entry pass to Hell. So stand aside and let me through. You want to come with me, donapos;t you, Lucas? Tell them." He shook me�and although I heard his words, I was�years away, writing those love letters back in 1991. She was called Kerry-Anne. We had snogged at a rock night where every single band had played Johnny Be Good, badly. Iapos;d walked her home. My first girlfriend. Then we were on the sofa at her parents house, not watching a video of Hellraiser 2.�Her parents were away for the weekend. It was all so clear. God, she was pretty.

She whispered a question�in my ear. I looked into her face, such lovely brown eyes and perfect teeth.

"Yes" I said.

Alan reached out with his free arm and swept aside the official as she had done my personal belongings. The door flew off itsapos; hinges and flapped away into the fiery atmosphere that lay beyond. The intense heat hit my face and brought me to my senses at last. It also�sorted out any rogue eyebrow hairs in an instant.

All that�existed for as far as the human eye could see, burned.�We stood�at the edge of an endlessly alight�sky with scudding�clouds of red, yellow and black flames. Alan gave a sigh,�smiled broadly�and shouted into the tremendously hot gale, "Glorious isnapos;t it?".

Then he jumped, taking me with him. He whooped and screamed with happiness as we fell. Heapos;d persuaded me to overlook the fact that�he was Satan, just gloss over it as oneapos;s mind can when it doesnapos;t want to accept a fact that is so blatantly screaming in your face. We can believe anything is right�if we try hard enough. Hitler managed to get people to follow him devoutly�to the grave. Charles Manson had his followers. I had let Satan befriend me, live with me and now he had claimed me. How bloody stupid am I?

The skies of Hell seem to last forever.�Through�this�endless barbecue, we fell. Alan now began to revert to his true form. As the light caught his face I could see�his profile contort into the true angel of Hell that he was. However, my memory of his real face is blurred with Alanapos;s face being overlaid upon it. My�brain is protecting me from it, for now at least.�What I DO recall of it is pretty horrific though.�God really�worked a number on him sending him down here, just as Satan had worked one on me. I no longer felt any pity. I clung to him for fear of falling but what was there to fear now? Things were as bad as they were going to get I thought. He had released his hold on�me some time ago so that he could exalt and somersault us both�through the air. I figured he didnapos;t need me anymore so I simply let go.

He didnapos;t even notice that I had gone. Evidently physics and gravity�obviously donapos;t�work in quite�the same way in Hell. He had grown in size and mass, whilst I remained the twiglet that�I always am. Once I had released my grip I shot downwards at a far faster rate than before. The eyebrows went completely at that point. I will have a sunburnt look of total surprise for some months to come�I fear. I closed my eyes and just relaxed. I began to hum that Doris Day classic , "Que Sera, Sera". Why, Iapos;ll never know.

Suddenly I was twanged back upwards like a bungee jump. If I had to make a choice between falling down through the skies of Hell or shooting back upwards,�do I�choose down for the sake of at�least being able to see where I am going, or then again up?�Because itapos;s�a bloody sight more reassuring to be going back up and hopefully away from what awaits when you finally hit Hellapos;s version of terra firma? Itapos;s a difficult decision. Iapos;ll choose Up.

I had a silvery�cord firmly tied around my waist. I had not seen when or how it had been attached but it was so firmly knotted, I decided not to mess around with it. I could see it ascended upwards to somewhere out of sight and it was propelling me out of Hell. Once again�I relaxed and just let it take me to wherever I was going seeing as I had little choice in the matter. Then I was firmly and rather roughly plucked out of the air.

"Where do you think you are going? And whatapos;s this? "�Satan pulled sharply on the cord. To his surprise, whoever was on the other end pulled back. Harder. He kept on tugging but there seemed to be more strength on the other side and slowly but surely we were reeled upwards like fish on a line.

The further up we went, the less devilish he looked. He also got a lot angrier than I have ever seen him but instead of being terrifying he was merely like an impotently furious businessman whose car has been clamped. He shouted and screamed, swore like a trooper and threatened the other end of�the line. What he wasnapos;t going to do I laughed at him and that got him really mad.�Which made me laugh a lot more. In the end he stopped bothering about who was pulling up upwards and just concentrated on berating me for giggling. I know I shouldnapos;t have but he was very funny. How pathetic and puny he now seemed, a shouty man who needed a good wash and had nicotine stains on his hands. Much like me. When I noticed the resemblance I laughed a bit harder at that too.�It didnapos;t go down well.

He could have let go at any time, but he was stubborn and hung on to me. At last we saw the open door to Purgatory above us. We heard voices,�a male and an older female, bickering as well. As we reached the portal, Alan let go and climbed back into Customs, swearing and cursing at the female. I allowed myself to be pulled back in as frankly, I was knackered. Extreme sports are not my thing.�

Alan stood up and started shouting the odds at the elderly lady in front of him. Mrs C hit Alan across the head with the brand new milk saucepan she had bought. "How dare you use that kind of language with me, you filthy git" she exclaimed. "Your language is disgusting, I could hear you halfway to hell and back. Filth" and she continued giving him a piece of a pan set.

A hand reached down and grabbed mine. I looked up, saw Chris, and fainted. I bet that doesnapos;t happen to him often.





address finding mac network, address finding mailing, address finding name, address finding number people phone.