The small town of Neath now boasted a new Hi-Tech alcohol licensed, eating establishment.

There were already plenty of places to eat and drink but, they catered more toward the younger element  - blasting loud ear drum smashing music which hampered any kind of conversation between patrons.

(Neath lacked a venue for the more mature customer (and there were plenty, of these people waiting for such a place). It was a dead certainty to make its owner a lot of trade and subsequently, a lot of revenue).

The owner of Tech Hen Oven  (the place specialized in Chicken dishes ) was a cheerful late ‘20 something’ year old woman named Adelle. She was a honey blonde with a perfect hour glass figure and elegantly pretty face – another ‘plus’ to bring in the ‘gentlemen’ of the town and because of that, it also encouraged their wags, to accompany them too . . . lol

All in all, the ‘Hen’ (as it became to be known), was a hit! The ‘Hen’ was also situated near to a taxi rank and within walking distance of a bus station – it was a very, handy and convenient port of call for those waiting for their rides home, a proper ‘money spinner’ however you chose to look at it.

Regular customers (day or evening), got to know each other, ultimately  make friends and arranged to meet each other again for a drink a drink and maybe a meal – the meals by the way, were scrumptious! This was down to the very newest design in culinary techniques – hence the name of the place. Everybody who ate there, considered it to be a ‘‘gastronomic delight’’.

There was unfortunately, an element of envy. Not, of the restaurant being successful, but of the ‘green eyed’ jealousy of the female kind toward Adelle.

***

It was 11.45 p.m. on the 30^th October. The last customers had just vacated the ‘Hen’. Adelle and her staff were busy clearing the place of glasses, plates and cruet sets for washing and re-filling etc. They were also working overtime to get the place prepared for the next day’s ‘Halloween’ festivities (good natured organized chaos was in force).

Marvin the chef came out of the kitchen to speak to Adelle about the booked meals for tomorrow. He was concerned about the amount of fresh Chicken that they already had in the fridge. He was content about the amount they had for the next day, it was just concern over the heavily booked diary for the following day, 1^st November that was his main concern.

Adelle followed her chef to view the booking diary. She was so pleased that she had managed to obtain Marvin as her chef. He was also a qualified ‘slaughter man’, so he came in so  handy in humanely killing her livestock.

Marvin was a born and bred London ‘Eastender’. His ancestors had come from the West Indies as sailors from the time when the London docks and surrounding areas thrived with cargo from the Victorian commonwealth. His tall impressive stature had also come to the fore when arguments ‘kicked off’ amongst drunken customers – he was invaluable to Adelle, who lived in the apartment on her own (Marvin occupied the other apartment just above Adelle ). He was a good friend to her and it was good to have a ‘man’ on the premises at the end of the day, for safety sake. Secretly, Adelle hoped, that things might change between them . . . .

A brief chat with each other, culminated in minds put to rest about the meat stocks for the forthcoming future and they both mucked in with the remaining staff, decorating the restaurant.

***

All Hallows Eve.

With the restaurant suitably attired with Pumpkins,black bats, skeletons, witches (some flying on broomsticks [with the aid of wire & string lol], cobwebs, spiders and black balloons (one of which sported a slogan which some member of staff had added in white ‘tipex’: Adelle’s blow job)!  Try as she might, the culprit could not be found – but, Adelle accepted it in the good humour it had been written in.

An atmosphere of fun and festiveness encompassed the ‘Hen’. The door was opened and the first customers of the day duly entered.

***

Extra tables & chairs had been acquired in case they were needed & as it turned out, they were.

A group of ladies of no fixed age came in, they were fully costumed in an array of traditional ‘witchy’  garb and they were quickly followed by a small group of children who were also fully attired and carrying some grotesquely carved pumpkins that in some cases also served to catch any loose coinage from the adult customers and ‘goodies’ from Adelle and her staff. The little ones, when fully satisfied that they had drained the grown up coffers left, to resume the highly profitable, ‘a—souling’!

The restaurant continued to fill up as anticipated. The first group of women who had entered just before the ‘trick or treaters’, occupied a couple of tables that had been quickly joined together (at their request) so they could be all together. They were waiting for another of their friends to join them – apparently, she had been let down by the taxi cab she had booked and was now awaiting a replacement cab. They were already twelve in number, so Adelle put a small round table at the end of the rectangular one her friends occupied. By the time the table had been dressed, the missing guest, arrived.

Adelles happy demeanour faded, when she saw who the guest was. This lady was the one who had been giving her all the grief. The insinuations of Adelle being a ‘loose woman’ and other unsavoury descriptions – which, I hasten to add, bore no truth, had all stemmed from ‘her’.

Adelle bit her tongue and welcomed her as she would any other customer. The guest sat and perused the wine list.

With the arrival of this woman, Adelle kept her eye and her ‘ears’ on her.

It didn’t take long before they were eating and drinking their wine, all huddled up and chatting  quietly amongst themselves. Now and again a glance was thrown Adelles way. It began to un-nerve her a little, but being ‘Adelle’, she shrugged the feeling off and went about keeping her other patrons happy.

Marvin came out of the kitchen and asked checked the time with Adelle – it was 8.45 p.m. He reminded her that the farmer who sold his produce of Chickens to her establishment, as yet, had not turned up and it was very unlikely he would at this time of day. Again, she told him that everything was under control – she had contacted him just a few moments ago. Marvin returned to his Kitchen Eyes rolling and a few choice words uttered under his breath when he heard a loud fracas emanating from it. Adelle laughed to herself just as a loud crack of lightening and a massive clap of thunder almost rock, the restaurant. This brought a rowdy applause from her patrons for her apparent ‘atmospheric effects’. “It is all included in your bill”, she told them laughingly. The table of 13 looked sneeringly toward her . . . they carried on with the hushed whispering.

***

A ‘Van Helsing’  character approached the bar. He placed his order for his guest and himself. The glass of wine was no problem, but when Adelle attempted to draw a pint of the traditional ale, the pump made a couple of rude noises and dribbled a few dregs of bitter out. Silently cursing to herself and giving herself a rebuking for not having put a fresh barrel on the pump before opening up (the traditional ale was unique. It had to be ‘tapped’ – a long process). Managing to placate her customer with an ordinary pint of ‘best bitter’ – on the house, obviously), she went down the cellars steps to put on another barrel.

Searching for the hammer which is required for ‘tapping it’ (the process required a ‘bung’ to be released), Adelle was suddenly grabbed from behind and tape hurriedly stuck to across her mouth to prevent her stifled scream from being heard and some type of rope tying her hands behind her back. A sack was quickly placed over her head and the sound of the bolt on the cellars back door being pulled back then she was unceremoniously dragged into a large van which drove off immediately.

***

As she lay on the floor of her mobile prison, another even louder lightning bolt cracked through the atmosphere above her and her captors, a thunderstorm ensued much to her hosts delight, judging by their laughter and joviality.

Adelle wondered what on earth was going to befall her . . .

***

The van back door was opened, the rain and lightning drenched her as she was bustled through the dwelling house, Her head was still covered by the sack, she was half led, half dragged to a medieval type hall. Once in there, the sack was removed. Adelle glanced around the room.

Her ‘captors’ were now adorned in long black robes. Instantly recognised by her as the ‘thirteen women’, whom she had made so welcome only a few hours earlier, Adelle made no sound. Instead, she listened.

Although their voices were still subdued, she was able to make out there ‘noviceness’ of them. They appeared to be rather new to whatever ‘craft’ they were about – they were still ‘bickering’ amongst themselves about the way things ought, to proceed. Judging by what she could hear, they meant ‘business’.

It was when a long ceremonial dagger was taken from one of the walls and handed to one of the robed women standing behind an ‘alter of some description’, Adelle was able to see that it was the worst one of the lot – the one who had begun all the snide remarks about her.

Adelle ‘SNAPPED’!

In a flash, Adelles bound hands were released magically , from there confines and they ripped the offending ‘tape’ from her mouth. The gathered throng of her captors, stood agog in amazement. Her left hand shot upwards in the air and another clap of thunder erupted. Her voice boomed out to the transfixed audience:

You have messed with the WRONG PERSON!

With another motion of her hand she pointed to the nearest woman to her, mumbled an incantation and immediately she turned into a Fowl.

The remaining women screamed, Adelle acted quickly – apart from the woman behind the alter, the remainder were also turned into Fowl. The twelve of them huddled together – clucking away at each other – Adelle chuckled, wondering if they actually understand each other.

The lady at the alter, fainted at the sight.

Closing her eyes Adelle made another chant, sat down on the floor to await the result. The wait was a short one.

Marvin entered the premises.

“My, my, my – you have been a busy girl”! he said to Adelle who by now, had arisen from the floor.

She enquired of him as to whether he had come with the restaurants van, he replied to her “Of course” and began shoving the boisterously noisy clucking Chickens, all apart from ‘one’. The one person who was still a ‘human’ – Adelle took a great deal of pleasure  from awaking her and letting her witness the full horror of altering her status into that of a Chicken – after informing her of what was going to happen to her a little bit later, in the evening . . .she was going to become Adelles little ‘thank you’ gift, to the dark lord who had given her the ‘restaurant’ almost a year ago now – one an three quarters of an hour ago actually – on 1^st November, to be precise . . . Yes, Adelle explained. Tomorrow is the first anniversary of ‘Tech Hen Oven’ –

A.K.A.   “THE HEN COVEN” . . . and ‘you’ my dear, are going to be the ‘guest of honour’ - - - - - by the way, I have my ‘own’ sacrificial dagger – I won’t be needing ‘this’ junk, chucking the dagger that had not been long in the hands of this ‘clucking wreck’.

Marvin returned and asked Adelle if she was ready to leave and added that the birds he had just placed in the van, will turn out some compliments when served with his ‘special sauce’!  To which Adelle replied “see, I told you there was no need for concern over the Chicken delivery – have I ever let you down . . . “?

“Now, lets get out of here, before we miss ‘our’ parrttaaayyyyy”!!!

Happy ‘All Hallows Eve’ to everybody!!!