This is me, Eccles

This is me, Eccles
This is me, Eccles

Monday, 24 October 2011

How to exercise poeple

Farver Arfur de preist in good standin rushed ruond to our huose, where my Anti Moly was scremin dat she needed exercising. For dem what doesnt understand de probblems she was havvin I shuold explain dat sometimes her speech was full of vile, sattannic obscenitties. Well, dat's normmal, but at uvver times her vioce changed and her speech was much milder and pollite, so we susspected dat a Fuol Fiend was posessin her.

"I IS DEMNOS DE FUOL FIEND AND I IS IN TORMMENT!" shouted Anti Moly in a deep vioce. Then she continued "Eccles you is a bitter, offenssive, rude, ill-mannered, cruel, unkind, anggry, traddy sockpoppet!" much as normmal when she is in a good mood wiv me.

"Ullo," said Arfur. "I is a preist in good standin. Damain Thopmson will be writin a specail blogg about my martrydom one of dese days, when a letter from Monsingor Ooglebleep, de Bishop of Pluto, reaches him. You is not a umble servant of de Lord like I is, I got a gold meddle for bein umble. I wears it on Sunddays."

To our surpprise a demmon appeared next to Anti and said "YOU IS NOT A PREIST. WE DEMMONS KNOWS A REEL PREIST WHEN WE SEES ONE."

Demmon

"Ullo, Mr Demnos," I said. "You has changed appearrance since yesterdday. You looks nastier."

"I HAS BEEN IN TORMMENT INSIDE DE SUOL OF MOLY BENDITE!" said de demmon. "IT MAKES DE SULFURR LAKES OF HELL SEEM QUITE NICE BY COMPARRISON."

"Fuol creecher! Go back to de Hellish place from which you came!" shouted Farver Arfur.
"I doesn't want to go back to Pottymouth," complaned Anti Moly. "De poliss said dey would lock me up if I went back."
"Not you, woman! I was talking to de uvver Fuol Fiend!" snarled Arfur. "Right! I got de bell, de book and de canddle. Dis is what we preists is told to use."

bellbookcanddle

"What's de book like?" asked Bosco. "Does de author mentoin dat all Cathlics is mass murderrers?"
"Well, I doesnt have any Bibbles - we doesnt use dem in my churhc - but I brought what I fought was gonna be de story of our Saviuor, one of de gratest men wot ever lived," said Farver Arfur. "De man wot saved de world's econnomy from riun. But it seems to be about a man who spent his time kickin fings."

"DAT WAS GORDON BROWN ALL RIGHT," said Demnos. "WE READ ABOUT HIM IN DE DEMMONIC TELLEGRAHP. EVEN WE DEMONS DOESNT THROW MOBBILE PHONES AT POEPLE. NOW, EVEN IF YOU AINT A PREIST, SEND ME HOME. I CANT STAND ANY MORE OF DIS DAME."

Farver Arfur rang de bell, lit de canddle, and read out a bit from de book: "Och aye, we wuz in de Jolly Sporran pub celebbratin oor 30 nill defeet o' Haggistoon in de Rabbi Burns Memmorial Trophy..."

At dis momment de Fuol Fiend disappeared compleetly (I mean Demnos, not my Anti Moly, who was still dere), cryin, "DIS IS TOO BORIN FOR ME."

"I told you I was a reel preist," said Farver Arfur. "We is now gonna take a collection for my expennses."
"No we aint, you sockpoppet!" said Anti. "You has drivven away de only pusson who reely understood me."

It sure aint easy savin poeple.

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