DID YOU HEAR SOMETHING BROTHER torthred
Here comes little Ethy now hey I’ve got an idea pretend you can’t see him, like he is invisible.
Holy shit who said that? Was that you Brother Torthred? I could have sworn I heard a voice say, Top of the morning, brother Benedictines. No? Well, I swear I heard someone say something. It sure would be strange if you called me by the plural form, after we have been strolling in our elegant cowls, the ones only the bigger monks are allowed to wear, through the gabled colonnades on the western side of our delightful monastery, where the little monks like Brother Ethy are never allowed to set sandal.
Holy fucking Christ! Stop tugging at my sleeve, Brother Torthred! You know how I hate it when Brother Ethy and the other smaller monks do that, and now you got the habit too!
NO PUN INTENDED.
What are you going to do next, begin wetting your straw tick every night like Pissy-Pants Ethernan?
No I did not say I would tattle on you to Abbott Spock Bockum, Brother Torthred, that must have been a devil whispering sweet nuggets in your ear. You know your darkest secrets are safe with me, such as…
Wait! Yes, I believe I can hear the little devil that is pestering you, Brother Torthred! It sounds like an unfashionable, retrograde devil though, with a vocabulary of just under one hundred words of Latin. You know how hard it is to make conversation, strolling in the arbored garden when you can not even conjugate your simple perfect tenses?
No, that is why this fool devil is speaking in English. Yes, listen to what it is saying, put your ear right up to where its mouth would be if it had not been rendered invisible by God’s wrath because of its despicable play in yesterday’s dodgeball event.
I am not a devil, it lies. Can you hear its pitiful mewling, Brother Torthred? I am Brother Ethernan, it cries, as from a fiery pit of everlasting agony where they never serve dessert, I am your friend, can you not see me?
DO NOT REPLY TO IT, BROTHER TORTHRED IT ONLY WISHES TO ENSNARE YOU AND LEAD YOU TO YOUR UNDOING. PUNCH THE SPACE WHERE THE DEVIL APPEARS TO BE LURKING, AND IT SHALL FLEE FROM YOUR LACK OF SIGHT! KICK IT WHERE IT APPEARS TO BE ROLLING IN THE GRASS! PUNCH IT, KICK IT, SHOW NO MERCY!
Well fought, Brother Torthred! The devil appears to have fled before the majestic fists and flying kicks (and was that a nunchuck I detected flashing from under your skirt?) of the true servants of our Lord and Savior Jesus.
Now let’s get out of here.
Image generated on Stable Diffusion
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