Welcome, my freshly harvested tissue donor. Thank you for donating *all* of your tissue to my worthy cause! Which cause is that? Why, defeating Fr. Philip, OPpressor, of course!
Today, my son (who is off boning up on his treachery, smiling duplicity, assassination and scheming-for-my-throne skills just as I was at his age–shortly before my late father’s sudden and unexplained death and my ascension to POWER, ABSOLUTE POWER!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!) writes me to say:
This is the most hilarious fruit of your conquest for Followers, Dad.
I now submit that we adopt “Red-Whiskered Were-Catholic” as some kind of
adornment on the Shea crest.
It is telling, my son, that you find such jests at my expense amusing. Please do hurry home! My palace guard have prepared a special surprise for you. You’ll just die when you see it.
As to the rest of my suckups, yes men, sycophants, toadies, and bootlickers:
Today, my Followers, I command you to go read this very funny essay by the invaluable Sci Fi Catholic who appreciates the full pulp fiction purple prose value of Randall Paquette when he sees it.
One thing the 16th century and its heir produces was a bumper crop of marvelously over-the-top titles for religious polemics. I think my two fave titles from the period are “A First Blast of the Trumpet Against the Monstrous Regiment of Women in the Land” (it seems John Knox was unhappy with Queen Mary) and something I ran across long ago that went something to the effect of “Two Hundred Great, Fat, Well-Swilled Papistical Lies”. Catholics could and did gave just as good as they got, and I’m sure some historian of the period could point to some wonderfully shrill broadsides from the Roman side too. However, none of their title stuck in my mind as being as funny as those two.
Anyway, enjoy. And then get back to your thankless toils!
That is all.