You open the large oak doors to the Church of Pickles – a division of 47 Enterprises.  Light streams in from the stained glass windows and illuminate the interior.  Pictures of the gods hang on the wall . . . tiggy, Squishy, Rianne, Death Knights, etc . . .  Rows of pews are filled with a handful of the faithful.  The Reverend Mr. Pickles stand behind the pulpit speaking to his flock.

Brothers and Sisters!  Welcome to today’s services.  Peace be with you!

“And also with you” replies the congregation.

We are here today because you are all thieves and sinners!  It’s true.  Your transgressions, while making you look good to your Godfather, do not make you righteous with God.  But, as the good books says, if you confess, you will be forgiven.   Snatching purses, conning schlubs, running prostitution rings . . . these aren’t the sins that I’m interested in.  You can confess those to any parish priest.  No, I want the good, juicy sins.  The ones that make headlines.  If you confess these to me, I will grant you absolution for your sins (with a small fee, of course). 

Sadly, for some of you, there can be no forgiveness.

Pickles looks over at the picture hanging on the wall of Chuckle surrounded by flames, holding a pitchfork.

But, for the rest of you, follow me and your place in heaven shall be assured.  For a nominal fee of course.

DanK make his way to Reverend Pickles and gets on his knees

I've been a bad boy, bad boy, what can I do? What can I do to make it up to you?

Pickles glances at the collection plate in a very obvious manner.

First, get off your knees.  People might get the wrong idea around here.  Now tell me, what is your sin?

Quietly slips in the back of the church and takes a seat in one of the pews. He begins to reflexively cross himself and pray, until he realizes that it doesn't seem like that kind of church.

Brother Crawford, worry not!  Think of me as God's secretary.  Just tell me what you want, and I'll pass it on to the big guy.

Pickles shakes Crawford's hand

Welcome to the church.

It's a... uh, interesting place you've got here.

So what exactly is it you're looking for here? Juicy sins?

Bit of a far cry from my pastor growing up, if you don't mind me mentioning.

Pickles makes the sign of the cross.

Your pastor, I'm sure, wasn't able to hear the sins and grant the absolution I can.  You see, we lead different lives and deal with different sins.  Who's the worst sinner your Pastor had to deal with?  I little lust?  Shoplifting a candybar?  Coventing thy neighbor's lawnmowe?  I deal with real sins!  The ones that require real forgiveness.

Raising an eyebrow, Crawford thinks back to the very recent past and what had got him into so much trouble.

Like.. drinking all of LoveGun's rum?

Monet wearing his dirty painting clothes and his old hat hobbles into the Church of Pickles wondering why it doesn't smell like more vinegar...he was expecting a vinegar smell. 

He scratches his chin through his beard wondering what kind of hobnobbery this is. 

So, Mr_Pickles, Monet begins, Does your church have the 10 Commandments? If so, what are they? And how much is your nominal fee? 

Irish enters the newly founded church.

Can one become a member of the church?

Crawford, that is quite a sin indeed.  That's going to require ten Our Squishys and ten Hail Tiggys.  And, perhaps you should buy LoveGun some more rum.

Pickles blesses Crawford and sends him on his way, down the straight and narrow path.

Monet, I get the impression that a man like you could use some religion and guidance.  Sure, spending your day in haystacks or on Japanese bridges might be peaceful, but I think I can help guide you better.  As far as the comandments go, of course there's commandments.  And guidelines.  And, they will be reveled shortly  But first, I must get more of the faithful to join my flock.

And, kids, you can tell your parents not to worry.  This isn't one of those churches where you end up in South America drinking Kool-Ade.

Irish, I'd be more that happy to have you as one of my congregation.

Monet raises a fuzzy eyebrow at Mr_Pickles. 

So we have to join in order to know the commandments and guidelines? Would one want to know these things before joining a church? And there won't be Kool-Aid? I'm quite disappointed, I quite like Kool-Aid. Well...except for you know...the arsenic tainted kind. Any why are there no pickles, Mr_Pickles? 

He sniffs around and continues to look about the church looking at the creepy deities. 

Monet, where would one be without faith?  You need faith to join the Church of Pickles.  And, you may drink all the sugary beverages you want.  I'm just letting everyone know this isn't one of those weird suicide cults.  And, since Methodists don't eat Methodists, and Episcopalians don't eat Episcopalians, why would the Church of Pickles serve delicious, juice pickles?

You need faith for anything, that doesn't mean you jump blindly into it. I'm just curious and I'd rather shop around my religions a bit before committing anything. Soo..Monet strokes his beard. I don't know if I would want to say "I'm in" before knowing what I'm getting into. 

But that's a good point on the pickles. 

Join my church or the water lillies get it!  I shall have to consult the ancient texts, scrolls, and parchments to dig up the commandments.  In every religion there are commandments, of course.

Pickles blows the dust of an old book and begins to read . . .

" . . . and Tiggy didst come out of her Mafia Gazette office and ascended into the heavens, but first spake unto the masses giving these commandments . . .

Pickles pulls a pen from his pocket and begins scribbling . . .

Apparently, there are a few mistranslations.  I'll fix 'em real quick . . .

i) The Tabloid News is the only worthwhile newspaper.  Thou shalt have no other newspapers before it.  Especially that heretical rag that shall not be spoken of by name, but it rhymes with the Buckle Suckle.

ii) Mr. Pickles is a really great guy and you should trust him with everything at all times.

iii)  Thou shalt stop referring to Mr. Pickles in any way shape or form as a food product, hors d'oveurs, or snack.

iv)  Remember Mr. Pickles' birthday and send him presents.

v)  Thou shalt honor Mr. Pickles with gifts and money.

vi)  Thou shalt not murder Mr. Pickles.

vii)  Thou shalt not steal, unless you plan on donating the stolen item to The Church of Pickles.

viii)  Adultery . . . we're good with it.

ix)  Thou shalt sing "I'm A Little Teapot" for the amusement of the clergy of The Church of Pickles.

x)  By confessing your sins in The Church of Pickles, you wave all rights to complain if they end up in The Tabloid News.

Rev. Pickles stops reading.

Well . . . who can argue with that?

Pickles adds one last thought . . .

And, you know they're legit commandments because they're listen with Roman numerals.  That makes it official!

Pickles puts the book away before anyone tries to challenge his interpretation.

*ahem* "listed."

Aldo walks in holding the chuckle Knuckle. Then realises that he's in the wrong place, he drops the paper and runs out of the door.

Monet listens as Mr_Pickles reads off the Commandments.  He nods agreeing with many of them while also disagreeing with several. 

He squints as he says, “I’m not sure how I feel about Tabloids but whatever.  Also, what if I’m too poor to contribute all this money? My dear, dear family is always number one in my heart and usually sucks most of my money out of me.”

The old man swirls his cup of cherry Kool-Aid, as he awaits Mr_Pickles response. 

So, you're saying you don't care about your eternal soul?  Just the balance of your checkbook?  It sounds as if your priorities need to be lookd at.