Are ya ready, kids?

Over at Consensus, someone asked about the Purple Palace. This scenario has been stirring around in the back of my head for a while now, but perhaps only fans of rectangular britches will appreciate it…

Are ya ready, kids?
Aye, aye, Kantor!
I can’t hear you!
AYE, AYE, KANTOR!!

Whooooooo works in a palace as purple can be?
(come on, you know it fits here… just sing it!)
Bylaw-ish, and lib’ral, and popish is he
(You know you know)
If doctrinal nonsense is just what you wish,
(I know you know)
Then follow his lead, and you’ll flop like a fish!
(You know you know, I know you know,
you knoooooow, I know!)

Now enter with me into the wonderful, watery world of “You Know” and his friends…..

“Hey, Skidword, what’s that on your arm?”

“I have no idea, “You Know.” It started out small, and now it’s really big.”

“It looks like a little building. With a steeple. Oooo, maybe it’s a Church Growth! Hahahahahaha, hahahahahahaha, hahahahahaaha!”

“Oh, you are just too funny, “You Know.””

“I’m sorry Skidword. Does it hurt?”

“Yeah, I’d better go see the doctor.”

(Later)

“Hi, Skidword. What did the doctor say?”

“He said it is a Church Growth, that you’re a known carrier, and it’s really hard to get rid of.”

“I can do it, Skidword!”

“No, “You Know.””

“Aw, come on; let me try.”

“NO, “You Know.””

“Aw, come on ya big chicken! Let me buuuuurn it off!”

“NO, NO, get away from me you porous propagator of platitudes!”

“Sing it with me, Skidword! Come on baby, light my fire….” Hahahahahahahaha, hahahahahahaha, hahahahahahaha”

“NO, ouch, get away, that hurts, NO, “You Know”!”

“There!”

“AUUUGGHHH! You made it even bigger!”

“Yep. It’s the wave of the future, Skidword. Oooo, here comes St. Patrick. He’s next. Hey, St. Patrick!”

“Run, St. Patrick, run! “You Know’s” gone mad with power!”

“Duuuuuhhh, oh right! He’s already set me ablaze once this year! AUUUGGHHH!

(Meanwhile, down at the Crusty Crab…)

“Mr. Crabz, we’re with the congregational health department. We have reason to believe that your employee, one Mr. “You Know I Know,” has been purposefully trying to infect every one with Church Growths. We’d like to use your restaurant as a confessional operation and nab this guy before everyone in the community is infected.”

“Sure thing, mateys! He’s given me half a dozen of the blighters already. Ye can hide in the kitchen, but I’m a-warnin’ ye – he keeps it mighty hot in there.”

“We’ve got it covered, Mr. Crabz. Here he comes now.”

“Burn, baby, burn; disco inferno! Hi, Mr. Crabz! Want me to take care of those growths yet?”

“For the last time, NO. Now get to work, “You Know”.”

“Aye, aye Mr. Crabz. I’m cookin’ up a really good special today: Happy Clappy Crabby Patty Surprise! Hahahahahahaha, hahahahahahaha, hahahahahahaha”

“Good. Great. You just hurry on into the kitchen, “You Know”. Go on now. Get in there. Off you go. Time’s a-wastin’. Shoo-shoo.”

“Wait just a minute, Mr. Crabz. You seem awfully anxious to get me into that kitchen. It’s a trap! It’s a trap! Run away! Run away!”

(later at the purple palace)

“That’s right Jerry! ( I love that name. Oh, Jerry, my beloved snail, you don’t think it was silly to name you after …, no, never mind. Oops, where was I? Oh, yeah.) They’ll never get me out of here. Never, never, never! I’ve got the palace. I’ve got the purpose. I’ve got powerrrrr!!!!! Bwahahahahahaha, hahahahahahaha, hahahahahahaha!”

(Tune in next summer, mateys, to see the exciting conclusion!)