Episode Four: Turn Four: Massed Into Submission!
The Village of Creggenbaun Church…
Drink some of my encouraging tea and reveal my tremendous spiritual presence. Mass the entire neighbourhood into submission.
…”Nomine!” bellows
Father Brown, filled with righteous anger and feckin' furious at these feckin' ungrateful bastard villagers complaining about his spectacular Massing ability.
“Oh, wait, no,” he stops, quickly grabbing the nearest cup of tea and downing it in one, just like he used to do at priest school.
“NOMINE!” he starts again, feeling incredibly encouraged.
“Oh, hang on!” he decides, as he realises something's not quite right yet. He turns away from the crowd, whose full attention his blaring Latin has most definitely caught. He removes his cassock. He shakes his hips. He turns back round to face the crowd at roughly the same time as he starts swinging his trousers in the air around his head.
“NOMINE!” he starts once more, as Mrs O'Doherty faints to the ground.
Father Brown rips his shirt off, buttons popping off with such force one of them hits Mrs McHennity in the eye. She collapses to her knees in pain, screaming with the fear.
“FOR FECK'S FECKIN' SAKE! WILL YOU SHUT THE FECK UP AND LET ME FECKIN' FINISH, YOU FECKIN' EEJITS!” yells Father Brown, entirely possessed by the passion of the Mass. After struggling to remove his last sock whilst mounting his makeshift altar he starts Mass one final time.
“NOMMMMMMINNEEEEEEEEEEE!” he yells, star-jumping from the top of his altar into the crowd, closely following his underpants.
The congregation parts, like... like... like some Biblical reference that doesn't quite come to Father Brown's mind before his face hits the ground. He lies there for a brief moment, a star-shaped intrusion in the light covering of mud that graces the church yard. Many of the villagers voice their displeasure at this turn of events and depart, walking carefully over the unconscious bodies of the scandalised; after ambling over with her walking stick and taking a good look at Father Brown's posterior Mrs O'Flemmary does the same.
Somewhere behind Father Brown a slight hissing sound accompanies the rain as it begins to fall on the smouldering remains of his church.
The Village of Ardglass…
Distract the bishop by pointing out sin! Flee! Find clothing!
…Back in Ardglass,
Father Lars is directly underneath Bishop Lennan's newly acquired war-seat. He has to think quickly.
“Oh! Wait! Feckin'... oh dear Lord! Bishop Lennan! Blasphemy! There! Right feckin' there behind you! Oh Lord save us from this terrible sight!”“WHAT?! I SEE NO BLASPHE- OH YOU CUNNING LITTLE GOBSHITE, YOU COME BACK HERE YOU GROTTY LITTLE BOLLOCK!”But Father Lars is already out of the television studio, his tremendous spiritual presence swinging proudly in the wind as he runs down the street.
It starts to rain a little.
Father Lars doesn't look back, and so he doesn't notice the enraged bishop chasing him down the busy street.
...Go around the feckin' lady! If THAT'S impossible, Wheelie over her!
…Very nearby, cheeks still scarlet from the scandalous female nudity he has just been blemished by,
Father Fusco is hurtling out of control at nearly five and a half miles per hour towards the innocent Mrs O'Shea.
She's less than ninety five metres away! He raises his hands to his face in terror!
“OhdearLordwhatthefeckhaveIdonetodeservethis?” he prays, improvising.
She's probably only eighty five metres away! “OhmyGodohGodohGodohGodohSHITE!”She's less than seventy five metres away! “I... er!”She must be sixty five metres away! Mrs O'Shea turns at the approaching whir of the milkfloat.
She's merely fifty five metres away!Mrs O'Shea raises
her hands to
her face in terror! Father Fusco's still cover his!
And now she's merely forty five metres away!She screams in terrified fear of her life and shuffles several inches sideways in desperate escape!
She must be only thirty five metres away!Awakened by the blood curdling cry of a banshee, Father Fusco comes to his senses. He removes his hands from his face. He remembers his priestly vocation. He remembers he is living his milkman dream. He puts his hands on the wheel. He shrieks like a school girl when he realises Mrs O'Shea and he zimmer frame are less than twenty five metres away from the milk float! He faints in horror when he realises he can't brake if he wants to live!
… … … … … ...
Father Fusco comes to.
He is in a milk float, careering towards Mrs O'Shea at just over five miles per hour, and she is no more than ten metres away from him!
He pulls up on the steering wheel!
The milk float launches into the air!
With tens of seconds to spare it leaves the ground, soaring over Mrs O'Shea's weekday hat, clearing the pedestrian crossing, and landing with a bumping crash on the road beyond. Shattered milk bottles dribble milk off the back of the float.
First Father Fusco looks back to see the poor old lady unharmed, but apparently clutching her chest and collapsing to the ground. He's not a medical professional but she looks kind of ok if you squint.
And then he looks down, towards the speedometer.
He can't help but gasp with fright when he sees he has almost reached six miles per hour! His knuckles whiten as he grips the wheel!
The Village of Cloonsherevagh Church…
Sigh and run to the parish library. Oncee there, quickly learn how to defuse a car from a book.
…In the nearby parish of Cloonsherevagh,
Father Reilly manages to surreptitiously escape from under the herd of pensioners and make off towards the local library. He is mere feet from the main entrance when he hears the brief wail of a police siren.
He turns to see Officer Mallarky pull up by the side of the road some twenty metres away.
Two priests are naked! One church is burnt! Father Brown has a +1 Encouraging Tea Bonus next turn!
THE SPEED OF THE MILK FLOAT IS 5.9 MILES PER HOUR! BEYOND SIX MILES PER HOUR THE SPEED IS BARELY CONTROLLABLE!
Mrs McFinnickerty – 2 pints
Mrs Daly – 2 pints
Mrs McDaly – 2 pints
Mrs O’Daly – 7 pints
Father Fusco 8
Father Brown 4
Father Reilly 4
Father Lars 3