“The world is the soul's abyss. The Pope is foreign to the soul. Let us swim in our own bodies, leave our souls within our souls; we have no need of your knife-blade of enlightenment. We humbly declare we reject sanity.”
Needless to say, I went stark raving bonkers. Clearly, the Elder Gods are the True Gods, not the Christmas Turkey Gods!!!
Then, I became sane again and assassinated a boring speech-giver at the House Owners Community Meeting, which was discussing the limit of 1.25 cm for grass on people's homes.
The Pope-- Where is he now?
He's dead. And probably in Heaven. Alleluia.
And that's the story of how I saved Christmas from carol singers.