I'll tell you a true story here.
I already have a spoof religion made up ready to deter these people; it is about St Postula and her Holy Screeves. I've used it a few times.
Well, about 10 years ago, just as we were preparing Sunday lunch, a pair of Mormons rang the bell. (I knew what they were, they'd been around the village for days.)
Before they could open their mouths, I was off with, "Are you saved? Do you believe on our Lady St Postula and the Screeves? You may think you're saved, but unless you have St Postula in your heart, you are inadequately saved."
Then I had an inspiration. I turned back towards the kitchen and called to my daughter: "Jennie! There's some people here who are inadequately saved. They need the Screeves of our Lady St Postula."
Jennie came out from the kitchen with a manic grin, waving a half-peeled carrot. "Do they want a carrot?"
"Well, says I, "a carrot might help, but what they really need is the Screeves of St Postula."
I turned back towards the front door but the Mormons were gone, belting down the road as fast as their legs would carry them.
I already have a spoof religion made up ready to deter these people; it is about St Postula and her Holy Screeves. I've used it a few times.
Well, about 10 years ago, just as we were preparing Sunday lunch, a pair of Mormons rang the bell. (I knew what they were, they'd been around the village for days.)
Before they could open their mouths, I was off with, "Are you saved? Do you believe on our Lady St Postula and the Screeves? You may think you're saved, but unless you have St Postula in your heart, you are inadequately saved."
Then I had an inspiration. I turned back towards the kitchen and called to my daughter: "Jennie! There's some people here who are inadequately saved. They need the Screeves of our Lady St Postula."
Jennie came out from the kitchen with a manic grin, waving a half-peeled carrot. "Do they want a carrot?"
"Well, says I, "a carrot might help, but what they really need is the Screeves of St Postula."
I turned back towards the front door but the Mormons were gone, belting down the road as fast as their legs would carry them.
Only sheep need a shepherd.
