Purgatory


They say that fame has a high price and I sure found out that was true when I was alive. I couldn’t go anywhere without the photographers on my heels, even more so when I was married to Joe. We were the golden couple and everyone wanted a piece of us.

“Miss Monroe!” Snap! Click! Flash! “Mr DiMaggio, sir! What are your predictions for the Yankees this season?”

It had its good points for sure, I can’t say otherwise - like we always got the best table in restaurants and then there was the money of course. It was tough for me though, always having to look the glamorous star, it put me under pressure like you wouldn’t believe. I didn’t mind being photographed when I looked my best, but I think when you’re famous every flaw is exaggerated. I was never allowed to be myself and dress down, not ever. Folks expected me to look gorgeous the whole time and those goddamn photographers would have sold their souls to get a picture of me without make-up or when my roots needed attention. In the end death was a release, but I’m paying the true price of fame now; how I wish I’d been a nobody in my time.

I have a good friend here in Purgatory - Diana knows, she understands how it was. We have lots in common, like being hounded by the photographers, and we both have mystery surrounding our deaths. I could tell you the truth now, but I won’t; that would only stir things up again and we don’t want that. You see, as long as we remain famous on Earth, the longer we remain here. Our ticket outta here is to be forgotten by our fans and those goddamn historians who keep digging everything up. I blame them mostly, always writing their dumb-ass books. It’s even worse for Diana, being a royal, she could be here until the world ends, and that’s all the hope some of us here have.

It ain’t so bad in Purgatory, don’t get me wrong, but we’re stuck with a lot of odd balls and the atmosphere can get a little uptight at times. Elvis is cool when you can get him away from his steak sandwiches, and John Lennon too, when he decides to get out of bed. But then there’re souls like that Jack guy. Jeez, he gives us the creeps! Luckily The Master took his scalpels away after he attacked Nell that time, thankfully he only slashed one of her oranges she’s so crazy about, but had he managed to cut her, she would remain disfigured for the rest of her stay here. We don’t heal until we pass over in the true sense you see, we’re in a state of inertia. The upside is that we don’t age. Diana and I are lucky in that respect, we are the babes about town here, unlike some I could mention. I feel sorry for the other Diana, she used to model herself on me you know, I’m real flattered by that. She was England’s answer to the Marilyn Monroe phenomena, shame she didn’t die before she went to seed, but she seems happy enough. She and Elvis are eating buddies and they have gorging contests. It’s really cool because they can eat whatever they like yet never gain a pound. Diana the babe likes it too and says she doesn’t have to throw up anymore after pigging out.


Everything here is stuck at a standstill. Take the park for instance. Does nothing but rain, rain, rain out there, always has for years now. Gene seems to like it though. There he is now with his umbrella doing his ‘Singing In The Rain’ routine. The Master likes to sit on his throne and watch him, and since those cute little guys from England showed up, Eric and Ernie they’re called, they’ve been out there most days. Ernie should have moved on to the higher plane by now but he won’t leave without his buddy. Folks tell me he could be here for centuries waiting.

Then there’s my old flame Johnny, he’s like a vegetable with that gaping hole in his head. ‘Good thing too’, my Joe said, when he joined us a few years back; he’s still protective of me. I don’t hold with bearing grudges though and always go sing to Johnny every year on his death day. I think he likes it, but it’s hard to tell. Jackie tried to stop my visits when she arrived, but Florence, his nurse, had her thrown out of the care centre, she threatened to lamp her one, whatever that means. We try to avoid each other as much as we can but Jackie really thinks she’s something. When we do eventually move to the higher plane, Johnny will be healed and then maybe he’ll tell the bitch to get the fuck away from him. I always find that gentlemen prefer blondes.

Diana is the only English royal I hang out with; all of the others are a pain in the ass. We have Bess and Mary tearing at each other’s throats every chance they get and then there’s their old man, Henry, thinking he’s some kind of big shot movie director, pushing everyone around. Then gee wiz! - all of his wives who are forever bickering about who is the legitimate one. I really dislike the older one of the two who have no heads. Well, they used to have heads and went around carrying them under their arms like packages. That was until George and Bobby, and some other soccer players that Diana is friendly with, got trashed one night and decided to play five-a-side. The Master has kept ‘the balls’ because they went over into his yard and smashed his green-house. Boy was he pissed about that! But it’s been real peaceful since then.

Then there’s the broad who never smiles, “I am not amused” is all she ever says, apart from when she argued with Bess over her questionable virginity. Virgin my ass! She’s forever trying to get laid by every guy up here, Diana calls her 'The Slapper' and yes, she sure could use a slap. But jeez you should see her teeth! They're as rotten as the potatoes that Walt guy is always showing us. Now I know where all you limeys get your goddamn awful teeth from. You really should go visit a dental surgeon more often you know.

Anyway, did I tell you the news? We may not have to wait much longer before we can move on. The Master told us newbies last night that every century we can elect one of us to be reincarnated and apparently it’s that time of the millennium again. Good news for us, but not for you mortals. Aww shucks! I’m real sorry about that. We have decided the best person for the job is the guy called Adolph. We were tied between him and a new guy called Saddam, but since he only just arrived we thought it only fair that Adolf go. With any luck, in around forty or so years you’ll all be joining us in the higher plane. I just hope the sun shines in the park there; I’m getting real pissed with Gene and his umbrella. Diana says she wants to ‘ram it up his arse’… I so love the way she talks. She tells me she can’t wait for Harvey Nicks to arrive, whoever that guy is, some famous limey with bad teeth I guess.