Gates of Hell

The sun hung high in the air over Albert Square on that fateful day in June. Pauline Fowler, the laundrette owner and Dot Cotton, her assisstant, were having a good old natter over a cup of earl grey.
Kat Slater was hard at work on the market stall, stealing furtive glances at Alfie Moon, who was oblivious to her affections.
Yes. Just another day in the east end of London and everything was normal. Or was it?
Pat butcher, through her net curtains was sneering at them all. Hidden in the darkness of her cramped living room, she alone knew the fate of Albert Square. Having danced naked amongst the trees and bushes of the small park area the night before, she was visited upon by her good friend, Mephistopheles.
The night sky had erupted in flame, and the blood of the innocents rained from the heavens, hailing Lucifer's presence on this mortal plane.
For she did not know that beneath the quiet green on which she jived in her nudity, there was an ancient temple of evil which entombed the gates of hell itself. And it was her satanic duty to open them for her master. If she succeeded, she would reign as a queen over the hordes of demons that would wash over the land like a swarm of ravenous locusts.
Pat smiled to herself.
She deserved that title. And with her power, she would teach that Mo Slater a lesson for hanging out her dirty laundry in public.
"Well, i better put me glad rags on" said pat to herself. She went to her room to find suitable attire for the occasion. Unfortunately, due to her ineptness at colour coordination, Pat only had violent shades of pink and green. Nothing matched and these hues were highly inappropriate. Luckily, there was a black dressing gown hung on the back of her door. It belonged to her late husband, Roy. So, covering herself up, she made for the front door.
Meanwhile, Sharon Watts was pouting in the Queen Vic, the local freehouse. In her mind she heard a voice. It startled her so much she knocked over the fifteen empty pint glasses in front of her. Chrissie, the bartender wasn't amused.
"I think you've 'ad enough, love" she said scowling as she went to fetch a dustpan and brush. Sharon stepped outside and felt the warm glow of the sun on her skin. But lo! she heard the voice again. And time stopped. Zoe froze mid-stride. Sharon could see Ian Beale's breakfast in the back of his mouth as he froze mid-holler.
"Hello Sharon" said the mysterious voice.
Sharon spun around and saw, shining in the light of the sun, an angel. Following the pointing finger of the angel, Sharon saw the most obscene sight. Pat Butcher, hair dyed as black as the deepest pit of hell, frozen mid-stride across the square. Sharon gagged as she saw underneath the flaps of her black dressing gown.
"You must stop this unholy witch" implored the angel "for she seeks the destruction of the world as you know it". Sharon pouted.
"Pat Butcher is a powerful enemy. The power that makes her invulnerable resides in her overly large earrings" explained the angel "take this silver bow and arrow and smite her to hell"
And with that, the angel was gone.
Sharon pouted. Again.
Pat continued to storm her way into the park like a dark hurricane of evil. Passer byers stopped to watch the spectacle.
Sharon ran to the park to stop the evil Pat Butcher.
"Ello, 'ello, 'ello" said a voice "what do we 'ave 'ere then?" Sharon knew she wasn't imagining it as the bobby spun her around. Sharon could only watch Pat as she was carted off to the police station for possessing a weapon.
Pat was aware of everyone's gaze. But she didn't care. They'd all be kissing her ass soon, and those that wouldn't would feel the wrath of hell.
She began to dance for the opening ritual, and the sky tore open. Blood fell from the sky and the wails of the dead could be heard all over the world. Pat knew she had to make a blood sacrifice, so taking out her silver dagger, she slashed her wrists. Dot looked away in disgust and Yolande fainted.
"Behold, ye mortals" Pat cried as her blood spattered the grass "the great awakening of Beezlebub, Prince of Darkness, and hail me, his queen"
Where Pat's blood had stained the ground, a great hole appeared. There were steps leading down. It continued to rain.
Suffice to say, the whole square was intrigued, so they all filed in after Pat Butcher to witness this apocalyptical event.
It was a grand temple, dark columns disappeared into eternity and before the altar was a row of black pews. The residents of Albert Square sat down to watch Pat.
She ascended the steps to the altar and threw herself over it. She lay there for some time, and the people wondered if she had died. It was true. She had died, just then, of a heart attack. But her death was the catalyst for the opening of the gates and, thus, her rebirth. She arose with her groom in an air of foul glory, and sent her army of darkness out into the world to wreak havoc and destruction.
Pat and Satan now live happily together at number 11 Albert Square after evicting the Miller family in a paradigm of spite. She still likes her eggs sunny side up in the morning. And Satan still likes to watch Hollyoaks when he gets in from work in the evenings.
The End.
(For those of you who don't know, Eastenders is a popular English television series on BBC1 and is depressingly boring enough to make you want to slam your head in a heavy oak door. Several times.)