The Curmudgeon

YOU'LL COME FOR THE CURSES. YOU'LL STAY FOR THE MUDGEONRY.

Saturday, September 08, 2012

Haute Couture

Considerably diminished by repeated assaults from the legions of Rationalistic Anthropology, a Threadbare Myth sought sanctuary in a church. No sooner was it inside the door than it was seized, robed in white to represent Eternal Truth, a mask glued to its face for the sake of Holy Mystery, and its meagre physique bulked out with the stuffing from unused hassocks.

The Threadbare Myth was aware that the inhabitants of churches occasionally have odd predilections, and bore this treatment stoically. Nevertheless, it was somewhat disconcerted to find itself hustled up to the belfry, loaded into a catapult and fired at the very legions of Rationalistic Anthropology from which it had been fleeing.

After a long and precipitous descent, during which the wind whistled horribly in its ears, the Threadbare Myth landed hard on the head of an Evil Atheist, and promptly bounced off again. Recovering from the impact, the Threadbare Myth scrambled to its feet and did its best to brazen the situation out.

"Tremble, you malefactor," it thundered at the Evil Atheist, scattering clouds of hassock stuffing with every syllable; "observe this robe, this mask, this magnificent sawdust, and confess the manifest absoluteness of my continuing non-irrelevance!"

"My dear fellow," said the Evil Atheist, calmly brushing herself down, "grateful as I am to you for drawing my attention to your extravagant wardrobe, your efforts are quite unnecessary. I already knew that your tailors are not the most reputable."

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