JEZEBEL:
Heya, Avid Fans! It’s time once again for Cat and Muse. Here with me in the limbo of Jackie Kessler’s website, as always, is the glorious Muse of Tragedy, Melpomene! Hi, Mel!

MELPOMENE:
Yo.

JEZ:
What’s the cliché of the day, sweetie?

MEL:
Make love, not war.

JEZ:
Ooh, good one. You anti-war, Mel?

MEL:
War is hell.

JEZ:
Ah, Hell. Sometimes I miss home. But going back would be a BIG mistake. Which leads me to our next guest on the show—a lovely lady who learned the hard way that sometimes, going home is the worst thing you can do.

Mel, what’s that saying about diamonds?

MEL:
They’re a girl’s best friend.

JEZ:
No, the other one.

MEL:
Diamonds are forever?

JEZ:
That’s the one! Our next guest knows this one intimately. Avid Fans, give a hot Cat and Muse welcome to the haunting beauty behind H.G. Dowdell’s “Earthly Ground,” the one, the only Emma Bradford!

[APPLAUSE]

Hi, Emma!

EMMA:
[WAVES]

JEZ:
In “Earthly Ground,” Matthew says that after World War I, you traveled from Atlanta to Twin Oaks, Arkansas, presumably for reasons filled with charity toward your fellow man. And then you died from the Spanish Influenza. My, my. Does “No good deed goes unpunished” mean anything to you?

EMMA:
I know what you mean, girl. After leaving that one-horse town when I was younger—yep, Matthew and Willy’s horse Old Jasper was probably it—I should have never gone back to it.

JEZ:
Talk about the ruby and diamond necklace that caused all the ruckus. You know, not including the whole epidemic thing. It was your mom’s, right? How was she able to afford such a possession?

EMMA:
Mom was nobody’s fool, and knew just how to get her husband, my schoolteacher dad, to buy her a “bauble” or two every now and then.

JEZ:
Sweet.

EMMA:
She was a typical red-blooded American girl who loved jewelry just as much as the next one—even in a time when most of American society felt she shouldn’t. So that little ruby red sparkler was passed on to me from dear old mom herself on my “lucky” thirteenth birthday. Oh, by the way, mom says hi.

JEZ:
How’s she doing?

EMMA:
She’s having her usual high tea with Booker T. Washington and Frederick Douglass—and dear Fred (as she likes to call him) has been giving her some rather suggestive glances today across the divan…

JEZ:
Do tell!

EMMA:
Er, never mind.

JEZ:
Well, if you’re not going to kiss and tell on your mother…what the Hell did you do to Matthew when he kissed you? Was that possession, or was he delirious from the flu? Inquiring minds want to know.

EMMA:
Poor, witless Matthew. Honestly, the man’s been horny as a toad (with the swollen right hand to prove it!) ever since we met in grade school. I told him back then that he couldn’t handle this—and sure enough, he couldn’t. Go figure.

JEZ:
Heh. Like that time when you and Matthew were kids, and you brought a caterpillar back to life by breathing on it. Sweetie, tell me true: are you really Jesus Christ?

EMMA:
Hey, as far as I know, it’s simply called “power,” and that’s just about it. And isn’t it a beautiful thing? Hell, old Matthew thought so, didn’t he?

JEZ:
You know, I’ve come across plenty of grave robbers in my time. But coffin robbers? Now that’s inspired. Kudos to your Dear Creator. Was she going for historical accuracy, or was it a comment about stripping dignity from the dead?

EMMA:
Historical accuracy all around, stemming from the Creator’s treasure trove of memorable stories told to her long ago by a great uncle who once lived in Arkansas and served in the 369th Infantry Regiment during World War I. And oh, what a total G.I. hell-catter and all-round nasty boy he was, let me tell you.

JEZ:
Speaking of nasty boys, and not in the Janet Jackson sense, Willy ripping off your necklace must have pissed you off. If Willy were right here, right now, what would you say to him?

EMMA:
Eat five-day old cat puke, you loathsome, player-hating, self-debasing piece of worthless [BLEEP]! And furthermore, I hope your [BLEEP] falls off and turns into [BLEEP…BLEEP]!

JEZ:
Willy tells an interesting story about how a French prostitute exchanged his cash for the clap. Was your Dear Creator trying to make a statement about Seducers?

EMMA:
Probably more like a Jerry Springer moment, actually—where the client knows who and what he’s dealing with, but still can’t believe it when the proverbial snake reaches up and bites him on the old proverbial wiener…oh, well. I think you get the picture.

MEL:
A picture is worth a thousand words.

JEZ:
And what a picture it is. Boy, does Willy rage against the Machine; his diatribe against God was particularly inspired. I agree with him about the “rat-infested trenches ripe with dysentery” speech, but to be fair, it was people who invented ammunition and mustard gas and machine guns. Is Willy mad at God, or at humanity?

EMMA:
Unfortunately, virtually brain-dead Willy made a constant meal out of railing against God for the actions of mankind and the imperfectly polluted world that surrounded his dumb ass.

JEZ:
Don’t hold back, sweetie. Tell us how you really feel.

EMMA:
God’s a smart guy, and still has His good daily laugh at it all, I suspect.

JEZ:
Too much God talk gives me hives. Let’s go the other direction. At one point, Matthew mentions that in the Middle Ages, it was believed that if you had the flu, you were under the influence of the Devil. Fess up: who told?

EMMA:
That secret’s been out for eons. I heard it was probably the original makers of Vick’s Nyquil and Theraflu who were the ones who leaked it to the general public. You know: “Eek! Oh, Lordy me, gotta rid myself of the Devil!” Equaling huge retail profits at the medieval Wal-Mart cash registers, and all that.

JEZ:
Fair enough—but I have to push back on the whole “liquor is the ‘devil’s juice’ ” thing. Sweetie, don’t you know that the King of Hell doesn’t drink booze?

EMMA:
Oh, please. You really believe that? I heard he’s one of the biggest juicers around.

JEZ:
We must run in different circles…

EMMA:
Why, just last week I heard that he, Dean Martin, Frank Sinatra, Sammy Davis, Jr., and a few other Rat Packers (that somehow strangely included River Phoenix, Jim Morrison, and Keith Moon), were seen coming out of the Hell’s Kitty Gentlemen’s Club, with Janis Joplin sucking down on her daily bottle of Jack Daniels—

JEZ:
No, don’t mention Janis…

MEL:
[SINGS] Oh LORD, won’t you BUY ME a MERCEDES BENZ…

JEZ:
Crap. Too late.

MEL:
[SINGS] My FRIENDS all drive PORSCHES, I MUST make AMENDS…

JEZ:
Muses are like teeth—ignore them, and they go away. Moving on to diamonds: A girl’s best friend, or gemstone of the dead?

EMMA:
Er…I’m sorry, Mom. A gemstone of the dead is the way I’m beginning to see it these days. Er, quick, Jezzie…next question!

JEZ:
You bet. In “Earthly Ground,” were there any parts of the story where you were like, H.G., sweetie, what the Hell are you doing to me? Or were you and your Creator in sync the entire time?

EMMA:
I think the Creator and I are in total sync at all times. You know, two rather warped minds thinking alike and all?

JEZ:
Oh, I know. My own Dear Creator is good and warped. Just don’t tell her that. So, if you had your way, what would you change about the story?

EMMA:
Nothing.

JEZ:
Really?

EMMA:
Really. I think the characterizations have all been stretched as far as they can reach, in order to render the three of us alive and well (even though one of us may be as dead as a doornail) for all readers to both witness and appreciate. And hell, being unearthed for a little post mortem make-out session between Matthew and myself was the perfect extra-added bonus, I think.

JEZ:
Mmm. Necrophilia.

EMMA:
His idea, of course!

JEZ:
Of course, sweetie. Tell me one thing in the real world that you wish you could change.

EMMA:
Placing people into socially defined boxes based on ethnicity, background, etcetera. After living with this brand of useless crap for an entire lifetime, is it any wonder, then, why some people seem somewhat delighted to finally reach the stage for the kind of “box” that Matthew and Willy stole from me?

JEZ:
Good point. What about in the publishing world? Anything you or your Dear Creator wish could be different?

EMMA:
I think we’d both love to see the return of the heydays in publishing (the grand old 1980s and part of the 1990s), when there were enough non-downsized and talented editors on payrolls across the board to handle more of the onslaught of quality writing that’s still out there and just waiting to be cultivated.

JEZ:
Can you give us a tidbit about your Dear Creator, tell us where her stories appear?

EMMA:
Even though it was published about a year ago, I think you might want to take a look at how in these modern times, the Creator has handled a rather newsworthy and timely subject in a story titled “The Perfect Stranger.”

JEZ:
Excellent. And finally, if you could be Evil for a day, what would you do?

EMMA:
What else? Summon up that French hooker and have her give old Willy Boy another mega-dose of the clap crud. Don’t mess with me, dang it!

JEZ:
Damn straight! Stick around after the show, Emma—we’ve got to talk about that Hell’s Kitty club and whether a certain succubus has been slumming there…Avid Fans, give it up for the otherworldly love interest in H.G. Dowdell’s “Earthly Ground,” Emma Bradford!

[APPLAUSE]

That’s it for this episode of Cat and Muse! See you next time. And remember, if you can’t wait a week (or so) for the next episode, you can visit me and my fellow Kensington Succubus Diva, Georgina, at Magical Minxes. And remember, lust isn’t just a deadly sin. It’s THE deadly sin.

Smooches!