<em>Monet purses his lips,</em> No...that's not what I'm saying. I just don't approve of cults...I mean religions charing money for such frivolous things.  Of course I happily give to those in need but, seeing as I've been around for quite some time I'm also less loose with my money than those of the young whippersnapper generation. 

Archbishop Pickles stands aghast!

A common cult you call us?  For shame, sir!  We are an official religion!  Just look at out tax exept status and our Roman numeraled commandments.  The service charge, is just that.  A charge for service.  First it costs money to feed and clothe clergy.  Secondly, do you have any idea how much it costs to process these forms with heaven?  No, you don't!  Do you want homeless clergy?  Do you want backlogged paperworked in heaven?  If yes, you're a heathen without hope!  Do you want to be a heathen without chance of redemption?  I didn't think so.

My, I seem to have been a bit drowsy awhile back. Those are all valid points but couldn't you just wear handouts from a used shop, and wander the streets preaching your word? You don't have to have all this mumbo jumbo higglty pigglty all over the place. You should be a simple, humble man of a simple religion. 

Your so called "humble" men of the cloth cannot properly advertise a one and true religion in their disheveled state.  You see, god's house must be worthy of god.  I would not dream of trying to build a cathedral to the almighty that wasn't the best.  If you're advertising the most powerful deity in the universe (and let's be honest, the clery are nothing but advertising and marketing for their god), would you want to advertise him as someone who's practically homeless, or as an omnipiotent being?  Who wants to follow a god that can't provide for them, much less his employees!

So are you saying the gods are materialistic? And want to see the fanciest of the fancy and the lavish of the most lavish? Oh I beg to differ, sir. 

First things first, put some vodka in this man's Kool Aid.  What's with all the non alcoholic beverages consumed and placed on coffins these days? 

Mikey picks up the copy of the Chuckle Knuckle left on the floor, and heads off for the bathroom hurriedly.  You wonder if it's reading material or emergency toilet paper.

Apparently, you've never met Tiggy!

Mr. Pickles wonders why he hasn't hired bouncers for the church to make sure the unruly bohemian artist types don't ruin his plans.

slowly walks to the front of the awe inspiring shrine to the goodness that is pickled cukes.. places a picture of the Holy Grail

http://batamptepickle.com/images/products/garlic-dill.jpg

Al lights a dill scented candle and walks away

Monet watches incredulously as LuckyAlphonse goes through his motions to place the picture on the altar.  His eyebrows work furiously, as he tries to straighten out his thoughts. 

The only words that escape his mouth are:

Wow.

Shaking his head he realized he hadn't addressed Mr_Pickles' threat. 

Unruly? I don't believe I'm unruly...more of just trying to clarify the goals and desire of your church here.  I can most happily leave if you wish. 

Monet bows his head slightly at Mr_Pickles

Pickles isn't sure what to say or think about Lucky . . .

As I have said before, Monet, this isn't one of those cults you can't leave.  But, I prefer you not leave until AFTER I convert you!

Pickles grabs a baseball bat

This is the Louisville Converter 5000!  According to the ads, it's guaranteed to make people see it your way or your money back.  Or perhaps I should engage in more apologetics (not apologies, boys and girls).  But, don't forget to mind your manners in this house of holiness.  How quickly do you think you'd get to stay at the Vatican after telling the Pope his has a funny hat!  In my experience, it's approximately eight minutes before the Swiss Guard throws you out.

Now, as for the goals and desires of the Church or Pickles, it's merely to offer Reasonable Salvation at a Reasonable Price!  Even though you might not be able to put a price on your eternal soul, we will certainly try.

Monet eyes Mr_Pickles and the baseball bat with his milky eyes, he does not responsd well to brunt force. 

Louisville Converter 5000? And "According to the ads"? Did you BUY this so-called converting device from a salesman? The pope does have a funny hat, but I don't recall ever being rude to you sir. And how dare you tell me when I can or cannot leave. I shall do as I please. As for putting a price on my eternal soul, it is priceless! I do not need saving for I have saved myself with the interpretation of the beauty of nature! One does not need more than such things! What a joke!

A salesman, sir?  Surely you jest!  I have a catalogue.

If only nature gave the final verdict on judgement day, then you would be fine, and I would be out of a job.

Pickles peruses what appears to be a sacred text - but it's probably just a naughty magazine hidden behide more legitimate appearing reading material.

Nope!  Nothing in here about salvation though nature.  There are many like you, Monet.  The unbelievers.  Those whose hearts have been hardened to the truth much like the Pharaoh of Exodus.  I shall say a prayer for you in the next services.

LoveGun slinked into the back of the church and took a seat next to Crawford. She slid deep into the back of the pew and crossed one leg casually over the other. Someone was shouting near the front, but LoveGun kept her eyes low as she examined the area. These seats, she heard that they were called pews some where, looked more like booths. Why was there another booth in front of her? There was suppose to be a table, with a checkered cloth over it and a large pizza for her to eat. LoveGun rolled her eyes at whatever this establishment was and looked over at Crawford.

Finally some action started to take happen, that Pickles guy stood at the front and voiced his list out loud. LoveGun pulled her flask from the inside of her torn jacket and took a sip. She passed it to Crawford and attempted to listen to the list. Which failed, unsurprisingly. The droning finally stopped and murmurs passed quickly through the place. LoveGun wondered when the singing would start. Wasn't there always a choir at these things? LoveGun was patient enough to let a few moments pass, but still, no music. She decided to change the stagnate silence and sing under her breath.

Well I be jus' out o' school, like i be real real cool. Gotta be dancin' like a fool, got th' message tha' I gotta be a wild one.

She hummed the melody, but then stood, shouting at the top of her lungs.

YEA OOOOH YEA I BE A WIL' ONE!

LoveGun found Rev. Pickles and looked him straight into his eyes. She slowly brought the flask up to her lips and took a sip, daring him.

Archibishop Pickles pauses his debate with Monet, having full confidence that he's winning to look at LoveGun

Drinking in the Church or Pickles without sharing with the clergy cannot be tolerated!  Now, gimme a nip!  And, as for your singing . . . could you please wait until it's the proper time in the literurgy?  Thank you.

Now then, LoveGun, what deep sins have brought you to me today?  How may I help cleanse your soul?