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Freakin' the Evangelists, or: Later, Day Saints! (TRISTAN CLAIR DE LUNE/KEN MONDSCHEIN)
University at Buffalo

	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

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

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):


[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)

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