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Tired and emotional, the Abbot answered the email:


My Good Sir,

THEY ATE MY GOAT!

THEY KILLED IT. THEY SKUN IT. THEY STUCK A POLE THROUGH IT'S VITALS AND THEY SPIT ROASTED IT. WITH OLIVE OIL AND ROSEMARY.

I am not happy.

Thank you for your most wise words in your email. I will take you advice and shall look for guidance and solace within the bottle.

The sooner I travel the better.

On that subject, I am considering travel in the middle of next week. I will get confirmation on Monday from the travel agent. I will probably leave sometime Wednesday local time and, through the joys of time differences, arrive in London late Wednesday or early Thursday, London time. I will confirm the details once I know them.

Pardon Tuck? As a Christian I should. But it is not easy. I will do my best. Sometimes it is enough.

And I must apologise for thinking you were Muslim, not that that is a bad thing, they are fellow pilgrims on the same journey. I just wanted to be polite. God bless you Sir, with everything that you so richly deserve.

Yours sincerely,

Abbot Costello.
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And the priest shall make an atonement for him with the ram of the trespass offering before
the Lord for his sin which he hath done: and the sin which he hath done shall be forgiven him.

- Leviticus 19:22

There was a loud banging on his door.

“OPEN UP MY LITTLE BLOSSUM! MY TIBBY LAMB! LOVE ON MY LIFE! THROB OF MY LOINS! LET ME IN, LET ME IN!”

“Cheeses Kraft!” muttered the Abbot.


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