WHAT YOU ARE ABOUT TO READ IS:
IRRELIGIOUS, IRREVERENT, AND IRRELEVANT.
THE PEOPLE, PLACES, AND EVENTS CONTAINED IN ST MUCKYMUCK ARE COMPLETELY FICTIONAL. ANY AND ALL RESEMBLANCES TO REAL PEOPLE, REAL PLACES, AND/OR REAL EVENTS PAST, PRESENT, OR FUTURE IS PURELY COINCIDENTAL.
THE PEOPLE, PLACES, AND EVENTS CONTAINED IN ST MUCKYMUCK ARE COMPLETELY FICTIONAL. ANY AND ALL RESEMBLANCES TO REAL PEOPLE, REAL PLACES, AND/OR REAL EVENTS PAST, PRESENT, OR FUTURE IS PURELY COINCIDENTAL.
IN FACT, ANY RESEMBLANCE TO ANYTHING AT ALL WILL BE REMARKABLY COINCIDENTAL.
St. Mocheomoc Cathedral House
Sunday, 8:02 pm
"Chi Chi, it's nearly time. Are you ready? We've got to be the first ones there," said Nettie, preening in the entryway, full-length mirror.
"Yes, nearly," yelled Chi Chi from a distant room.
Fr. Eric descended the wide spiral staircase of the chapter house. He was wearing a black tuxedo, with full coattails, a gem studded bow tie, and shiny black shoes with jewel-tipped shoelaces. He looked smart and handsome. But he was as nervous as ever. His face was pale and he was panting, as though he'd been running about madly.
"Nettie, are you ready?" he said to the small knitting kitten.
"Yes, Eric, I'm ready. Come here," she said. The tuxedo-ed priest approached her. "Your tie is crooked." He leaned over and she straightened his tie. "That's better. You look very handsome tonight."
"Thank you, my sweet kitten," he said, patting her head gently. "Chi Chi," he yelled. "Time to go!"
"Yes, here I am," said the chihuahua, running into the vestibule. He had on his best sweater with "C H I" on each side, clearly knitted for him by the kitten. "I'm ready."
"Right," said Nettie. "Let's go. We have to be there before anyone else to receive our boarding instructions."
"I'm so nervous," said Eric, double checking his tie after putting on a black overcoat.
"You'll be fine," said Nettie, placing a velvety paw gingerly on his arm. "Just breathe."
Eric sighed. "Right. Just breathe." He picked up the kitten and the three of them made their way out the backdoor of the cathedral house into the clear, cold, Kilcathclydian winter night.
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