Introduction

i appear before you today, humbly girded in my finest knickers and satin spats, to carry out a charge passed on to me by an affable anthropomorphic panda I encountered in a dream last night. He commanded me, in between sips of warm caramel which he drew from a jewel-encrusted chalice, to pollinate your minds with my dementia and proselytize the gospel of the First Church of Mother Locust.

I regret to say I have no recourse but to comply with his wishes, as failure to do so would be tantamount to writing my own death sentence, a fate traditionally administered, in accordance with Church bylaws, as a fatal innoculation of liquid feces by High Priestess Terry Phelps.