1-12:The Return of the Lost Gavel

She sat down in front of the mirror as Marcus retrieved the makeup kit from another box.

The door burst open and in came the other members of the band. Three men of varying height entered, carrying guitars and sticks.

‘Hey, who’s the chick,’ said the first through the door, a tall blonde boy who would make an elf drink himself legless with envy.

‘I’m Carol,’ said the new makeup-artist, applying foundation across Daisy’s face.

‘I meant the one sitting down,’ said the Elf-boy with a grin. ‘Miss Tomboy.’

‘Sod off,’ said Daisy quietly, admiring the extremely shagable Elf-Boy.

‘Don’t move,’ said Carol slightly urgently and missing Daisy’s eyeball by a gnat’s kneecap. ‘Close your eyes.’

She applied the eyeliner with deft strokes, proving her mettle with the kohl.

‘You ready, hon,’ asked Elf-boy, addressing Daisy.

He peered at her in the mirror as she opened her eyes once more.

‘We’re gonna rock tonight,’ exclaimed the second member, the one carrying the drumsticks.

‘She’s stoned off her tits,’ said Elf-boy, pulling the chair around and peering into Daisy’s bloodshot and watery eyes.

‘No I’m not,’ said Daisy and was yanked back around by Carol.

‘How is that gonna translate into rocking,’ continued Elf-boy, addressing Stick-boy.

‘Close your mouth,’ said Carol, applying lipliner.

‘Good enough for Syd Barrett,’ replied stick-boy.

‘He was on LSD, idiot.’

‘Names please?’ asked Daisy as Carol reached back into the box for lipstick and another foundation sponge for a touch-up.

‘I’m Walt,’ said the elf. ‘And you’re Daisy.’

‘Didn’t mean me.’

‘I’m Duck,’ said stick-boy.

Daisy burst out laughing and Carol withdrew quickly, avoiding slashing Daisy’s face with lipstick. She thought better of it and drew diagonal slashes across Daisy’s face, blotting the red down with the sponge.

‘Hold still,’ said Carol, holding Daisy’s head in a vice-like grip. She dabbed loose powder here and there, brushing it down and adding more, building it up slowly and carefully.

‘Ten minutes,’ said Marcus, glancing at his watch. His hip buzzed and he retrieved a mobile phone. ‘Yeah?’

‘And you are…?’ she asked the third.

The last boy lifted a bright blonde wig and placed it onto his head. ‘Lady Darlene.’

He struck a pose, with legs akimbo then donned a mostly transparent skirt and yanked his faded blue jeans out from under them.

‘But we’re about to go on,’ said Marcus into the phone. ‘It’ll be at least an hour.’

Carol stood back and admired her handiwork. She grabbed a can of industrial-strength hairspray and worked on Daisy’s hair, which after a few moments was expertly teased upwards and looking like a pack of snakes had taken up residence in it.

A head poked around the door.

‘Five minutes,’ he said, then was gone.

Carol sprayed here and there with red hairspray, then with yellow.

‘Right. Shit, this couldn’t have happened at a worse time, you know,’ said Marcus and nodded at the reply. ‘Okay. I’ll be there soon.’