We had a "visit" here in my house earlier this weekend from some evangelist missionaries. Not that I have anything against evangelists, but I think prosteltyzers rank up there with Direct Sales over the phone, the Psychic friends network, and, door-to-door, are not nearly as cute as Girl Scouts (plus, they don't have cookies). The players: Me, Tristan Clair de Lune, the extremely handsome, talented and witty Rialto junkie Rachyl, my girlfriend, also a Rialto reader. Keith, (or, Phil-in-the-Blank Clair de Lune) a 6'6", 280-pound stick jock (and my brother) My "other brother," William, a collegiate fencer, busy cooking up a Chinese banquet for my parents who were coming. Scene: Tristan is nibbling on Rachyl's ear, washing dishes for dinner, or playing with his armor [recollections vary]. William: KEN! Could you come here? Me: What is it? William: Just come here! Me: OK (puts down the hamster) Ken walks down the hall to see his brother and girlfriend conversing with two Nordic-looking, clean-cut gimp-types with name tags. Gimp #1: Hello! My name is Todd, and I'm from the Mormon Church of Latter-Day saints. Me: How special for you. Gimp #2: Have you heard about the Mormons? Me: Yes, I have. Sometime in the 19th century, some guy thought he was a prophet, went insane, moved out to Salt Lake City, got into trouble with a lot of seagulls, and, hey, y'know Roseanne Barr is from out there? Gimp #1: So, you've heard of us? Me (washing dishes): Yes, but we already have a religion, thank you very much. We're Jewish. Rachyl: We rather like it... Me: But should it ever break down, we'll be sure to call you. [Rachyl and Keith collapse laughing] Me: That reminds me... Rachyl... isn't it time to light Shabbos candles? Rachyl: Yeah... Me: Excuse me for a minute... [Rachyl and Keith continue to talk to the Mormons] Me (picking up a very large sword from my bedroom wall and shouting down the hall): RACHYL! IS IT TIME TO SACRIFICE THE GOAT YET?!?!?!?!?!?! Rachyl: No, you have to wait until the moon comes out! [Gimp #1 looks at Gimp #2. William continues to chop up the tofu] Gimp #1: Excuse us. We must be going. [Switch camera. Tristan is rooting through his closet] Gimp #2: Thankyouverymuchforyourtime... [The Wonder Gimps turn to leave. Quickly]. Me (running from the bedroom in his black cloak, waving a large sword): CHRISTIAN BLOOD! WE NEED CHRISTIAN BLOOD!!!! [Switch to: Benny-Hill-esque shot of Mormons running away down the driveway of House of No Sexual Morals, AKA House Four Down From Ogami]. Me: Damn. We lose more Mormons that way.
(From the "Rest" of RHF)