I second this.
-
Sign up or login, and you'll have full access to opportunities of forum.
The Cardinal Bishop and his Female Pope
- Thread starter Barbaria1
- Start date
6. EPILOGUE
Cardinal Bishop Praetorio looked down from the window of his office in the Papal Palace at the great square below. It was nearly empty on that hot July afternoon. A few pilgrims wandered about gazing in wonder at the magnificence of the vast space and the great Basilica that looked over it. Some stopped to gaze curiously at the large wooden cross … the one on which the female Pope … the imposter … the anti-Christ … Barbara of Mohr … had suffered and died but a few months earlier.
The cross was empty now. She was gone, her corpse removed in the dead of night and reportedly tossed into the Tiber. The dark bloody stains in the wood, where they had nailed her wrists and feet, and on the blunt head of the cornu on which she was impaled, were all that remained of her.
But in Praetorio’s mind she lived. She was alive and well there both in spirit and in body. She lived on in his everyday thoughts. musings, and even his nighttime dreams … dreams that were at times horrifying and bitter with anger and remorse, but mostly good and uplifting.
He had been determined … since the day they led her from the Castel, nearly naked, staggering under the lash, mocked and humiliated at every faltering step, to the great square, where she was so brutally crucified … that her memory should live on, not only in his own mind and heart, but in a distant time, perhaps in another millennium. In a time when her progressive ideas and reforms might be taken up by a new and forward looking Church ready to shake off the age old fetters of male-domination, graft and greed that had so often over the ages subverted its true mission.
Accordingly he had written … it lay at that moment on his desk nearby … finished … a moving testimonial of the life and times of Barbara of Mohr, chronicling her meteoric rise within the Church to reach the pinnacle of achievement, election as Pope; and laying out in detail her ideas and reforms … all stillborn by her tragic discovery, trial and execution. And, of course, giving due attention, as well, to the extraordinary brilliance of her mind, her deep compassion, sense of justice, and saintly spirit.
And the ultimate conclusion of the document was that last point, her saintly spirit. For what he had written, and now intended to tuck safely away for posterity, would one day serve a future generation as the chronicled justification for her beatification as Saint Barbara of Mohr.
It would soon be handed over to Bishop Le Camus for safekeeping. Then Praetorio could relax. And as he turned away from the window, a thin smile spread across his lips, knowing that the one thing he left out, and some might always wonder about, is whether he and she did or didn’t? He wasn’t about to tell.
FINIS
Cardinal Bishop Praetorio looked down from the window of his office in the Papal Palace at the great square below. It was nearly empty on that hot July afternoon. A few pilgrims wandered about gazing in wonder at the magnificence of the vast space and the great Basilica that looked over it. Some stopped to gaze curiously at the large wooden cross … the one on which the female Pope … the imposter … the anti-Christ … Barbara of Mohr … had suffered and died but a few months earlier.
The cross was empty now. She was gone, her corpse removed in the dead of night and reportedly tossed into the Tiber. The dark bloody stains in the wood, where they had nailed her wrists and feet, and on the blunt head of the cornu on which she was impaled, were all that remained of her.
But in Praetorio’s mind she lived. She was alive and well there both in spirit and in body. She lived on in his everyday thoughts. musings, and even his nighttime dreams … dreams that were at times horrifying and bitter with anger and remorse, but mostly good and uplifting.
He had been determined … since the day they led her from the Castel, nearly naked, staggering under the lash, mocked and humiliated at every faltering step, to the great square, where she was so brutally crucified … that her memory should live on, not only in his own mind and heart, but in a distant time, perhaps in another millennium. In a time when her progressive ideas and reforms might be taken up by a new and forward looking Church ready to shake off the age old fetters of male-domination, graft and greed that had so often over the ages subverted its true mission.
Accordingly he had written … it lay at that moment on his desk nearby … finished … a moving testimonial of the life and times of Barbara of Mohr, chronicling her meteoric rise within the Church to reach the pinnacle of achievement, election as Pope; and laying out in detail her ideas and reforms … all stillborn by her tragic discovery, trial and execution. And, of course, giving due attention, as well, to the extraordinary brilliance of her mind, her deep compassion, sense of justice, and saintly spirit.
And the ultimate conclusion of the document was that last point, her saintly spirit. For what he had written, and now intended to tuck safely away for posterity, would one day serve a future generation as the chronicled justification for her beatification as Saint Barbara of Mohr.
It would soon be handed over to Bishop Le Camus for safekeeping. Then Praetorio could relax. And as he turned away from the window, a thin smile spread across his lips, knowing that the one thing he left out, and some might always wonder about, is whether he and she did or didn’t? He wasn’t about to tell.
FINIS
M
montycrusto
Guest
Beautiful ending, Barb! Congratulations 
I don’t mind though, the ending was great.
Fab story all round.. and great illustrations by @settantuno too!
Uh-oh, that’s gonna cost me €10.. I’ll send it to the forum fund!
I don’t mind though, the ending was great. Someone has been taking lessons in modesty and self-deprecation from @Praefectus Praetorio ..
Fab story all round.. and great illustrations by @settantuno too!
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
A posthumous sainthood for the pioneering Pope (ess) Innocent the first, and a self-flagellation infused, moralistic reflection for Praetorio!
Truly wonderful narrative Barb.
windar
Teller of Tales
Obviously not the current millenium. The year 3000 is still a ways off...
If they did, there goes the sainthood, I guess.
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
I waited for a little to post. I expected others to say most of what was needed - and I was right!
Barb seems to be finding new depths of talent and imagination these days as she consistently ascends to new heights of storytelling. Whatever is feeding this new excellence, Barb. Keep ingesting it!
Bravo, Barb. One of your best works.
Although I guess this is best described as a crux story, it is so much more. Told in a short and exquisitely crafted fashion, it really breaks new ground, combining history, religion, intrigue, and power. Not to mention a stunning depiction of unfulfilled(?) romance and heartbreaking guilt!
Barb seems to be finding new depths of talent and imagination these days as she consistently ascends to new heights of storytelling. Whatever is feeding this new excellence, Barb. Keep ingesting it!
Bravo, Barb. One of your best works.
Again, Sett reinforces his position as one of the best story illustrators on CF. We writers are honored and blessed by his presence and his contributions.
Last edited:
Harsh Martinet
Consul
Fear not Settantunno! I once believed that the Brother of the Quill bore me ill will and had used his writing utensil to stab me. But I have since come to realize that his heart is good and that he is well meaning with his comments and (mostly) sage advice 
Loinclothslave
slave to the whip
@Barbaria1
like @Praefectus Praetorio says, I heartily agree with the praise of others. Magnificent!
Might I add I love how the ending leaves some loose ends (and tight littles) unanswered which is perfect! Did Praetorio receive the Bishopric of Rome? What really did happen on their final night together? Did Barbara of Moore forgive him?
My imagination will happily chew over the various possibilities. Thank you for a wonderful mind-journey! 
like @Praefectus Praetorio says, I heartily agree with the praise of others. Magnificent!
Might I add I love how the ending leaves some loose ends (and tight littles) unanswered which is perfect! Did Praetorio receive the Bishopric of Rome? What really did happen on their final night together? Did Barbara of Moore forgive him?
My imagination will happily chew over the various possibilities. Thank you for a wonderful mind-journey!
settantuno
MUTUS PICTOR
Harsh Martinet
Consul
It still matches the mood of the ending. The rendering of the bridge alone is a joy to take in.
Loinclothslave
slave to the whip
Love your work, love the style, this picture serves as a beautiful accompaniment for the story as is!
You’ve captured the historic bridge and Castel perfectly. Looking forward to the promised detail.
NewUser
Magistrate
A delightful, as well as an unexpected story. Just as God created the world in six days, so you have completed it in six unforgettable chapters.
It's awesome!
NewUser
Magistrate
This is an illustration of the aphorism Sun Tzu (but this is not exactly he)
"If you sit on the river bank for a long time, you
can see the
corpse of your enemy floating along it"?
settantuno
MUTUS PICTOR
Oh wow … perfect. Inserted with pleasure,
M
montycrusto
Guest
Gutter.minded…
Loxuru
Graf von Kreuzigung
Some epilogue...
The Gates of Heaven.
The Holy Registration Deck.
“NEXT SOUL! APPROACH!”
Barbara of Mohr felt a bit uneasy. Her first solo flight had been scary. Coordinating the motions of the wings on her back was like learning to swim or to ride a bicycle. Finally, she had made it on the cloud. Surprised that it could bear her weight. Until she realized that she was no corporeal body any more, but just a soul, made of weightless ectoplasm. Just like the desk, and the creatures sitting behind it. Nevertheless, the she felt like having weight and being solid,, and the feathers of her wings tickled her tight little as she walked to the desk.
“Barbara of Mohr!?”
“Y..yes!?”
“You were a…Pope!!??” Saint Peter looked up, over his glasses, with a mixture of surprise and irony.
“Yes, Your Honour, I mean, Your Eminence,.. or..!?”
“Just call me Sir! And by no means ‘Reverend’! Ariel!? Is that true, was she really a pope!?” Saint Peter asked to the archangel seated next to him behind the registration desk.
“It is true Sir! She has been elected Pope recently, by a regular conclave!”
“Regular, apart from one detail! Popes have neither tight littles nor bodily curves prone to tumescence! What name did you choose?”
“Innocent, Sir!”
“That’s what they all say! You are not innocent! You cheated the whole Christian world! I am asking for your pope name, woman!”
“My pope name was Innocent, Sir!”
(Ariel could not suppress a laugh).
“Ariel! Behave a bit, will you!? Innocent, and what number of Innocent were you?”
“Innocent XI, Sir!”
“Innocent XI!? Is that correct Ariel!? With all those antipopes popping up, even I would lose count!?”
“I’ll check it, Sir!” and Ariel started browsing in the large parchment pages of the very big book on his desk.
“And what good things have you achieved during your… pontificate, Pope Innocent XI?”
“Nothing yet, Sir, but I had planned numerous reforms and…”
“Reforms, Pope Innocent just give you stress and frustration! Ariel, is there a problem!?”
“Actually, Sir,” Ariel said, while nervously browsing forward and backward a few pages in his big book, “I… well, I got here Innocent I, Innocent II, Innocent III….”.
“What happened next, Barbara of Mohr!?”, Saint Peter continued, “Your true identity got unmasked. Did they poison you?”
“No, Sir, they crucified me on … Saint Peter’s Square!”
“Well, bloody hell – ooops, hmm slip of the tongue – at the same place as me!? What a coincidence! Very unusual, I should say, to treat a pope like that. Can I see your stigmata!? “
Barb showed the holes in her wrists and feet.
“Oh, bloody hell – ooops, doing it again – it’s true! They are real! Just checking for confirmation! We get many fanatics here who pretend having stigmata, but they have just scratched their wrists and feet, as it turns out! Now tell me! How did you cheat them all during the conclave? I thought the pope-elect had to sit down on a groping chair, and some cardinal bishop had to confirm ‘habes testes!?”
“Really? I thought that was an urban legend!?” Ariel intervened.
“Yes, Ariel, trough a hole in the bottom of the chair! Ariel! Stop laughing, will you!? Gabriel, you too! That’s not funny, it’s serious matter! Stop it, or no portion of rice pudding for the two of you, today! Barbara of Mohr! Why did not the cardinal bishop report…!”
“He lied about it!”
“Really, Barbara! That is serious! What’s the Cardinal Bishop’s name, actually!?”
“Preafectus Praetorio, Sir!”
On hearing the name, Saint Peter and Ariel exchanged a suggestive look of triumph!’.
“Ariel!? Isn’t lying a mortal sin?”
“The gravity of a lie is measured by the truth it deforms, the circumstances, the intentions of the one who lies, and the harm suffered by its victims, Sir!”
“Correct, Ariel, and to your opinion, are there elements that there is no gravity to consider this lie not a mortal sin?”
“By no means, Sir!”
“Barbara of Mohr! Theoretically and theologically, you are in deep shit, and I am afraid, I cannot allow you in Heaven, immediately. According to… regulations, your pretended manhood as a pope, is a mortal sin too, which you have not confessed appropriately before you passed out. I neither can take into account the tortures you have been subjected to, nor the gruesome and humiliating death you have been subjected to! You know what that means!”
“Y..yes Sir!” Barb’s heart sunk to her feet. It meant : going straight to hell!
“Yet! Maybe I could offer you a deal! A plea bargain!”
“A plea bargain, Sir!?”
“Admit it! You are not Innocent! You are guilty!”
“But I am Innocent, Pope Innocent XI!”
“Innocent XI or Innocent XII, or XIII, of whoever! You are guilty! But if you accept my offer, I save you from hell! Just purgatory! What do you think?”
Barb first instinctively wanted to continue protesting that she was Innocent, but suddenly realized she better would cooperate. After all, she had already noticed that although the creatures behind the deck were just weightless ectoplasm like her, even ectoplasm had feelings, apparently, and the lustful looks of Saint Peter and Ariel at her naked body, had not escaped her. Better to play this out.
“What’s the deal, Sir!?”
“One! Admit you are guilty! Two! Tell us everything you know about the cardinal bishop. Everything that could… be used against him, the day he will stand here where you are now! You see! Souls of popes we can handle. Most of them are relieved of being freed of their responsibilities. But cardinal bishops, they are a real pain in the neck. They are without exception overambitious, self-complacent, evil intriguers, terrible fixers! They try to get themselves a direct line to The Boss, over our heads. They conspire to take our place, particularly Archangel Michael’s, but even mine! All intelligence is welcome to have a good reason to bar their access here!”
“All right, I confess I am guilty of being Innocent!”
“Good! Archangel Michael is already on the cardinal bishop’s trail! He never gets such an opportunity to nail that cardinal bishop! Hey! Mike! Come here and bring your Big Book!”
Archangel Michael approached with his Big Book and joined the desk.
“According to Barb here, the cardinal bishop has lied about the groping chair, what we consider a mortal sin, taking into account the circumstances, the context and the gravity of the consequences. You can write that already down, Mike! What else is there, Barb?”
“He is incredibly vain! He cannot stop spreading around what a hero he is! What an outstanding, saintly man! What a spectacular tactician! What an unselfish and giving person! What a wise and learned father of the Church! He keeps repeating the obvious about this holy, brilliant, kind, strong, handsome, wise, honorable, etc., etc., etc., (not to mention, modest!) man!”
“Geeze! What a pompous twit!” Ariel remarked.
“He compares himself to people like Brad Pitt, Anthony Hopkins, Charlton Heston, Christopher Reeve or Clint Eastwood, whoever they are.”
“You cannot know them! These are handsome stage actors who will only be born over three centuries! “ Saint Peter replied.
“This beats all vanity.” Ariel said.
“And idolatry too!” Michael added.
“And the cardinal bishop wants to become the next pope.”
“The pride!” Michael said while writing it down. “I hope he will be so kind not to name himself Innocent XII.”
“Actually, I think…” Ariel interrupted. “Say!? Does anyone know? Do pope names actually start numbering from one or from zero?”
“Shut up, Ariel! Save us your futile administrative details, please!? Conclaves are The Holy Spirit’s authority! I will have a word with him as soon as possible. There is still time before all cardinals will arrive in Rome! Continue, Barb!”
Half an hour later, Archangel Michael closed his Big Book with a satisfied smile.
“No soul of a cardinal bishop who ascends to his position is a clean sheet! But this one’s soul is as black as a slab of slate! Thank you for your cooperation, Barb!” he said.
“He will regret he made you die before him!”, Saint Peter said. “Gabriel! You see to it that this cardinal bishop Preafectus Praetorio is not even allowed to come to this desk. Security angels will intercept him, once he sets foot on this cloud, he will be escorted straight to hell, confined into a high security section, and not be eligible for parole until Judgement Day!”
“Yes, Sir!”
“Concerning you, Barbara of Mohr : I send you to purgatory for ten thousand years. You shall be there naked, apart from a papal tiara made of lead upon your head, and wearing the most hideous high heeled purple shoes available in the universe. You shall stay in a place that will be named Arkansas in the future. Any complaints from you will result in ten demerits on your tight little! The same for breaking the fine print of purgatory’s regulations! Fair enough!?”
“Fair enough, Sir!” Only ten thousand years in purgatory was much less than she had feared.
“Here is your assignment. Fly to that cloud up there, and report for Angel Hangingtree. He will supervise you during your stay in purgatory! Good luck!”
“Thank you, Sir!” she said and flew away.
“Arkansas! Angel Hangingtree! You are wicked, Sir!” Ariel said..
“On the contrary, Ariel, I have been lenient! For a moment I had considered to put her in purgatory under the custody of Angel Goldman and make her watch reruns of Seinfeld for ten thousand years without interruption. That would have been truly cruel! Perhaps I was a bit soft, for she got crucified, as a pope, on the same place as me! That creates a bond! Touched my weak spot, I humbly admit!”
“Something tells me, her pretty tight little touched another weak spot of you very hard, if I may say so!?”
“And Angel Hangingtree and his Arkansas cousin angels will keep that tight little tight, Ariel! Better for her than sitting on a coach for ten thousand years with Angel Goldman, watching Seinfeld interruptedly, with lots of cola, chips, donuts and hamburgers at her disposal! That would ruin the poor soul’s health! Anyway, I intend to make it good with her when she has done her time in purgatory, and then I’ll ask her for a diner at Saint-Ducasse. NEXT SOUL!”
The Gates of Heaven.
The Holy Registration Deck.
“NEXT SOUL! APPROACH!”
Barbara of Mohr felt a bit uneasy. Her first solo flight had been scary. Coordinating the motions of the wings on her back was like learning to swim or to ride a bicycle. Finally, she had made it on the cloud. Surprised that it could bear her weight. Until she realized that she was no corporeal body any more, but just a soul, made of weightless ectoplasm. Just like the desk, and the creatures sitting behind it. Nevertheless, the she felt like having weight and being solid,, and the feathers of her wings tickled her tight little as she walked to the desk.
“Barbara of Mohr!?”
“Y..yes!?”
“You were a…Pope!!??” Saint Peter looked up, over his glasses, with a mixture of surprise and irony.
“Yes, Your Honour, I mean, Your Eminence,.. or..!?”
“Just call me Sir! And by no means ‘Reverend’! Ariel!? Is that true, was she really a pope!?” Saint Peter asked to the archangel seated next to him behind the registration desk.
“It is true Sir! She has been elected Pope recently, by a regular conclave!”
“Regular, apart from one detail! Popes have neither tight littles nor bodily curves prone to tumescence! What name did you choose?”
“Innocent, Sir!”
“That’s what they all say! You are not innocent! You cheated the whole Christian world! I am asking for your pope name, woman!”
“My pope name was Innocent, Sir!”
(Ariel could not suppress a laugh).
“Ariel! Behave a bit, will you!? Innocent, and what number of Innocent were you?”
“Innocent XI, Sir!”
“Innocent XI!? Is that correct Ariel!? With all those antipopes popping up, even I would lose count!?”
“I’ll check it, Sir!” and Ariel started browsing in the large parchment pages of the very big book on his desk.
“And what good things have you achieved during your… pontificate, Pope Innocent XI?”
“Nothing yet, Sir, but I had planned numerous reforms and…”
“Reforms, Pope Innocent just give you stress and frustration! Ariel, is there a problem!?”
“Actually, Sir,” Ariel said, while nervously browsing forward and backward a few pages in his big book, “I… well, I got here Innocent I, Innocent II, Innocent III….”.
“What happened next, Barbara of Mohr!?”, Saint Peter continued, “Your true identity got unmasked. Did they poison you?”
“No, Sir, they crucified me on … Saint Peter’s Square!”
“Well, bloody hell – ooops, hmm slip of the tongue – at the same place as me!? What a coincidence! Very unusual, I should say, to treat a pope like that. Can I see your stigmata!? “
Barb showed the holes in her wrists and feet.
“Oh, bloody hell – ooops, doing it again – it’s true! They are real! Just checking for confirmation! We get many fanatics here who pretend having stigmata, but they have just scratched their wrists and feet, as it turns out! Now tell me! How did you cheat them all during the conclave? I thought the pope-elect had to sit down on a groping chair, and some cardinal bishop had to confirm ‘habes testes!?”
“Really? I thought that was an urban legend!?” Ariel intervened.
“Yes, Ariel, trough a hole in the bottom of the chair! Ariel! Stop laughing, will you!? Gabriel, you too! That’s not funny, it’s serious matter! Stop it, or no portion of rice pudding for the two of you, today! Barbara of Mohr! Why did not the cardinal bishop report…!”
“He lied about it!”
“Really, Barbara! That is serious! What’s the Cardinal Bishop’s name, actually!?”
“Preafectus Praetorio, Sir!”
On hearing the name, Saint Peter and Ariel exchanged a suggestive look of triumph!’.
“Ariel!? Isn’t lying a mortal sin?”
“The gravity of a lie is measured by the truth it deforms, the circumstances, the intentions of the one who lies, and the harm suffered by its victims, Sir!”
“Correct, Ariel, and to your opinion, are there elements that there is no gravity to consider this lie not a mortal sin?”
“By no means, Sir!”
“Barbara of Mohr! Theoretically and theologically, you are in deep shit, and I am afraid, I cannot allow you in Heaven, immediately. According to… regulations, your pretended manhood as a pope, is a mortal sin too, which you have not confessed appropriately before you passed out. I neither can take into account the tortures you have been subjected to, nor the gruesome and humiliating death you have been subjected to! You know what that means!”
“Y..yes Sir!” Barb’s heart sunk to her feet. It meant : going straight to hell!
“Yet! Maybe I could offer you a deal! A plea bargain!”
“A plea bargain, Sir!?”
“Admit it! You are not Innocent! You are guilty!”
“But I am Innocent, Pope Innocent XI!”
“Innocent XI or Innocent XII, or XIII, of whoever! You are guilty! But if you accept my offer, I save you from hell! Just purgatory! What do you think?”
Barb first instinctively wanted to continue protesting that she was Innocent, but suddenly realized she better would cooperate. After all, she had already noticed that although the creatures behind the deck were just weightless ectoplasm like her, even ectoplasm had feelings, apparently, and the lustful looks of Saint Peter and Ariel at her naked body, had not escaped her. Better to play this out.
“What’s the deal, Sir!?”
“One! Admit you are guilty! Two! Tell us everything you know about the cardinal bishop. Everything that could… be used against him, the day he will stand here where you are now! You see! Souls of popes we can handle. Most of them are relieved of being freed of their responsibilities. But cardinal bishops, they are a real pain in the neck. They are without exception overambitious, self-complacent, evil intriguers, terrible fixers! They try to get themselves a direct line to The Boss, over our heads. They conspire to take our place, particularly Archangel Michael’s, but even mine! All intelligence is welcome to have a good reason to bar their access here!”
“All right, I confess I am guilty of being Innocent!”
“Good! Archangel Michael is already on the cardinal bishop’s trail! He never gets such an opportunity to nail that cardinal bishop! Hey! Mike! Come here and bring your Big Book!”
Archangel Michael approached with his Big Book and joined the desk.
“According to Barb here, the cardinal bishop has lied about the groping chair, what we consider a mortal sin, taking into account the circumstances, the context and the gravity of the consequences. You can write that already down, Mike! What else is there, Barb?”
“He is incredibly vain! He cannot stop spreading around what a hero he is! What an outstanding, saintly man! What a spectacular tactician! What an unselfish and giving person! What a wise and learned father of the Church! He keeps repeating the obvious about this holy, brilliant, kind, strong, handsome, wise, honorable, etc., etc., etc., (not to mention, modest!) man!”
“Geeze! What a pompous twit!” Ariel remarked.
“He compares himself to people like Brad Pitt, Anthony Hopkins, Charlton Heston, Christopher Reeve or Clint Eastwood, whoever they are.”
“You cannot know them! These are handsome stage actors who will only be born over three centuries! “ Saint Peter replied.
“This beats all vanity.” Ariel said.
“And idolatry too!” Michael added.
“And the cardinal bishop wants to become the next pope.”
“The pride!” Michael said while writing it down. “I hope he will be so kind not to name himself Innocent XII.”
“Actually, I think…” Ariel interrupted. “Say!? Does anyone know? Do pope names actually start numbering from one or from zero?”
“Shut up, Ariel! Save us your futile administrative details, please!? Conclaves are The Holy Spirit’s authority! I will have a word with him as soon as possible. There is still time before all cardinals will arrive in Rome! Continue, Barb!”
Half an hour later, Archangel Michael closed his Big Book with a satisfied smile.
“No soul of a cardinal bishop who ascends to his position is a clean sheet! But this one’s soul is as black as a slab of slate! Thank you for your cooperation, Barb!” he said.
“He will regret he made you die before him!”, Saint Peter said. “Gabriel! You see to it that this cardinal bishop Preafectus Praetorio is not even allowed to come to this desk. Security angels will intercept him, once he sets foot on this cloud, he will be escorted straight to hell, confined into a high security section, and not be eligible for parole until Judgement Day!”
“Yes, Sir!”
“Concerning you, Barbara of Mohr : I send you to purgatory for ten thousand years. You shall be there naked, apart from a papal tiara made of lead upon your head, and wearing the most hideous high heeled purple shoes available in the universe. You shall stay in a place that will be named Arkansas in the future. Any complaints from you will result in ten demerits on your tight little! The same for breaking the fine print of purgatory’s regulations! Fair enough!?”
“Fair enough, Sir!” Only ten thousand years in purgatory was much less than she had feared.
“Here is your assignment. Fly to that cloud up there, and report for Angel Hangingtree. He will supervise you during your stay in purgatory! Good luck!”
“Thank you, Sir!” she said and flew away.
“Arkansas! Angel Hangingtree! You are wicked, Sir!” Ariel said..
“On the contrary, Ariel, I have been lenient! For a moment I had considered to put her in purgatory under the custody of Angel Goldman and make her watch reruns of Seinfeld for ten thousand years without interruption. That would have been truly cruel! Perhaps I was a bit soft, for she got crucified, as a pope, on the same place as me! That creates a bond! Touched my weak spot, I humbly admit!”
“Something tells me, her pretty tight little touched another weak spot of you very hard, if I may say so!?”
“And Angel Hangingtree and his Arkansas cousin angels will keep that tight little tight, Ariel! Better for her than sitting on a coach for ten thousand years with Angel Goldman, watching Seinfeld interruptedly, with lots of cola, chips, donuts and hamburgers at her disposal! That would ruin the poor soul’s health! Anyway, I intend to make it good with her when she has done her time in purgatory, and then I’ll ask her for a diner at Saint-Ducasse. NEXT SOUL!”