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Alright.

[That... is a very thick Irish accent. Not to the point of being impossible to understand, but there's really no mistaking at least the birthplace of the person talking.]

Ye have me. I've not a clue as to what is happening, why it must happen to me, what I've done of late to deserve it nor how to get back, which out of all of these happens to be the most pressin' issue at hand.

I'd be askin' who's responsible for this chicanery, but I'm goin' to assume I won't get an answer, so rather I'm just goin' to inquire somethin' I know I'll get a reply for-

Do I have to wear this God awful gaudy thrift store necklace openly or can I just stick it in my pocket?

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Trust me, I've gotten very good at scarin' people. There's also only so many times a man can be told he's goin' to hell if what he doesn't show up once a week before he tires of it. It's hard to keep a six thousand year old book interestin' after you've read it cover to cover every day of your life.

He's for the dead too as well, they have to go off somewhere after all. I recall the time where the church couldn't keep a single priest because they were offin' themselves too quick.

Had to go make a new rule about suicide for that one. Everyone'd rather be dead.

Oh, that'd be perfect! That's just the sort of thing Everglade needs. I'd love to see a demonstration.

Hah, those must've been trying laities. Would that they were good as Paul, desiring the end of race yet holding strong for the sake of the sheep.

Well, I'm at your service should you need anything from one who's been here for some time. I'm happy to assist Mr...oh, pardon! What's your name?

A sermon? ... Aye, I'll give 'em a sermon.

Nae, they sought the end because the times were troubled. Rather they were shite, what with everyone droppin' dead due to war and disease. With talk of heaven bein' paved with gold and not a moment of sufferin', tis hard not to understand why a man might seek that sooner than suffer through worldly problems.

Cassian Lynch. I'll be sure to remember ye should I require help.

Good, they stand in need of several. May luck put me within ear's reach of it.

Oh, Mr. Lynch, I have an um...personal question. A friend of mine has gotten, or rather has been involved with sodomy for some time now. I tried to talk him out of it, but it didn't bear fruit. Do you have any suggestions to give, or at least prayers to make on his behalf?

... Are they married?

Oh, Lord no! Just the ah, usual promiscuity.

Tell 'em to get married.

Either they'll be legal and accepted in the eyes of the Lord an' we won't have to worry about adultery, or they'll get sick of each other and swear to never bugger the other ever again.

Then one of 'em will become a priest.

So your solution is for him to...marry a woman? [The other possibility doesn't quite register.]

No, then they'll just bugger each other on the weekends.

Nothin' ruins a lovin' relationship like marriage.

Come on, Cassius, this is serious! As if legality changed anything about abominable acts. You don't know anything to ward him from that path?

Cassian.

Accordin' to the New Testament, we are discardin' the old one, lest ye be a Jew. If ye be so desperate to hang on to Leviticus ye are more then welcome to stop cuttin' yer beard, quit wearin' polyester and dump shellfish from your diet.

If ye be so keen on breakin' them up, mayhap just watch a few romcoms and see what ye can learn from those.

Otherwise, it isn't any of your bloody business what a man does behind closed doors, call me if they take to bending each other over park benches.

Romans and Corinthians might have something to say about...[He groaned. Yet another lackluster priest. The faith would never survive at this rate. And here he thought all his rudeness might at least avail sound doctrine. Alas. By now he's gotten the hint.]

Good afternoon, Cassian.

Best leave men to their own. Ye ain't Jesus, so don't go about throwin' stones.

Good day, sir.

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