Indy Pedant Geeks And The Temple Of Our Ennaychess

A veritable curse has been placed upon the glorious and gracious Ms Geeks, a tribulation to the right leg that only a blessing and a prayer from Our Sacred Ones in Our Ennaychess can cure.  With that in mind, we wended our merry little way to the Sacred Monastery in Londonistan.

A Holy Guard at the Outer Fortress holds up his hand and bellows, “Halt!  Who dares enter our Sacred Sanctum without the wearing of the Holy Veil of Our Ennaychess?”

“Pity me your worship, for I am tormented by a devil from Beelzebub that doth vex me when the Holy Veil of Our Ennaychess is close, it disables me most, I must exempt myself forthwith”, I replied.

Misdirected with my obvious chicanery and cunning, he passes us through to the Inner Guard.

“Only one may enter Our Inner Sanctum to be seen by Our High Priests”, the Inner Guard says.

“My dear lady, my wife suffers greatly from the disability of comprehension, especially when it comes to all things medicinal.  I am merely the interpreter between her and the High Priest’s holy words of wisdom and divinity”.

“It is an unusual request peasant, I must consult with the Scriptures of Spine”, she replied menacingly.

Several minutes later she cries, “This cannot be! There are no passages that tell me what to say, I am confounded!”

I humbly replied, “I am a mere interpreter of Ms Geek’s disability of comprehension, I simply translate”, and I wave my hand in a convincing Jedi-like way.

“Very well, come through, come through unto the Archway of Inner Sanctum where you will be met with a Priestess of the Holy Clipboard”, she replied haughtily.

I saw the blue beast that was the Priestess of the Holy Clipboard.  The blue beast I saw resembled a hippopotamus but had feet like those of a penguin and a mouth like that of a walrus and a face like a slap-jawed donkey.

“Please observe our customs and partake in the Cleansing of the Hands in the Holy Waters of Our Ennaychess”, she screeched like that of a Harpy.

“I’m sorry to say, that the ritual washing of the hands in the Holy Waters of Our Ennaychess is forbidden by my culture as it brings about the Demons of Itch and the Sprites of Scratching and makes the hands most red and swollen.  I would be most grateful if you could bring a mild surfactant containing olive oil and locust scrapings, a pewter bowl overflowing with the milk  of the hard Londonistan waters and a warm soft towel made by the lazy palms of The Tinged to cleanse the dark spirits from my hands, as is custom with my culture of modernity and not that of superstition”, I replied.  With a big smile.

“It is best, foul peasant, that you do not titrate my urine further! Be gone about your business!”, the blue beast growled.

We slowly shuffled to the Alter of Confession but suddenly I was ambushed by another blue beast.  A bigger blue beast if that was even remotely possible.  She resembled a giraffe but had feet like those of an orangutan and a mouth like a porpoise and a face like a bag of smashed crabs.

It roared, “Why are you not wearing the Holy Veil of Our Ennaychess in our Sacred Narthex?”

“Pity me, big blue smashed-crab-faced beast, for I am tormented by a devil from Beelzebub that doth vex me when the Holy Veil of Our Ennaychess is close, it disables me most, I must exempt myself forthwith.  Here!  See my Talisman of the Veil-less and proclaim that thou hath seen the sign of the Convincing”, I exclaimed.

“I have seen it brother, and I am regretfully out of logical argument, so you shall pass”, she replied, and we spoke to the Highest of Highest, most Revered of the Revered Ones, the Cunt Sultan.

With a wave of his hand, a twitch of his Golden Rod, a Prayer for the Gullible, the Cunt Sultan performed his tricks of sorcery.

Oh verily, Ms Geeks!  You is saved!  Bring me my alabaster Urn of Virtue, bring me my wooden Ladle of Signalling and let us praise Our Ennaychess and their High Priests and bring together our Holy Talismans and offer our Holy Song of Mindless Clanging to show to others how humble and virtuous we are.

All together now:

“Our Ennaychess,
Untouchable be thy aim,
Thy high priests come,
Thy tickboxing done,
On Spine as it is in SystmOne,
Give us this day our daily vaccine,
And forgive us thy debts,
As we forgive our BBC,
And lead us not into staycations,
But deliver us from COVID,
For thine is the sacred cow,
With the power and all that’s Tory,
For ever and ever,
Hatt Mancock”


Text & Images © Beware of Geeks Bearing GIFs 2020