The Mass.
Many decent things were banned back then: sex, violence and coffee marching gracefully in the top-10. It must be hard for a modern man to imagine a living devout of those rather enjoyable pastimes, but we were managing alright. Every Sunday mass a guest speaker would come up and enlighten us on the nature of forbidden vices. Wise men spoke of the time wasted on drinking coffee in the crumbled societies of the ancient ages. Often they brought black-and-white slide-shows, pretty diagrams sharply depicting striking relationship between the vices. A bit of sex, it appeared, often leads to a violent outburst, undeniably followed by a boiling pot of dark liquid. The vices could sometimes replace each other as if to show us the cunning nature of sin: violent movies may very well replace sex, while the prospect of a morning intercourse could draw a man from his hearty cup of coffee.
All these lectures inspired us greatly, however, there was one particular priest, whose speeches proved to be most entrancing and therefore surprisingly popular. Soon enough respected fathers across the county would find their masses deserted with only the blind and the deaf clumsily stumbling into the sparse halls in search of shelter. Suspicion aroused and a thorough investigation followed.
It was a gloomy Sunday morning when three men in trench coats fastidiously cut through the roaring crowd trying to enter St.Mary’s. The lines stretched for miles with no chance of anyone outside catching a syllable of the much-desired speech. Those in mercy of their compatriots in the cold would summarize the lecture and pass it around written in brief sharp statements on the used cheques. As the trenchcoat men made their way inside (a few injuries included, no doubt) the crowd was already at the peak of their delirious trance.
“Now then–, the priest said. Sex! Sex, sex, sex”.
A storm of applause.
“Yes, yes, I know how much you hate the rotten thing and so do I. It pains me to even think of the matter, yet I must brace myself and speak aloud, for that is the ultimate sacrifice a priest takes to enlighten the masses and save the pure souls from corruption. Last week we talked of most abominable things: the unclean thrill of sex in public places, rape and fellatio. Today, I shalt dwell deeper into the dark abyss of perversity and introduce you to... incest!”
Several people started crying, a few fainted, most reached to check the contents of their underpants.
“Sex, as we all know by now, is an awful awful wretched ugly thing. Can we make it any more awful, I ask? But of course! How? The answer lies in the vicinity of your own home, the sacred shrine of purity and comfort. Incest is considered to be a sexual intercourse between close relatives. Mother and son, brother and sister, father and the Glenn Beck. I can see images of horrid lust flashing before your eyes! Well, let me read you an excerpt from a particularly repulsive book on the matter. It’s called, believe it or not “How I fucked my mother-3: how I got father and the newborn baby Johny involved in a deranged orgy”...”
The smell of lust was unbearable. Several men already stained the marble floor of the church in sticky white liquid, women fainted, no longer able to handle the deranged fantasies, so abundantly delivered by the priest. Suddenly, just when the narrative reached the diapers of little baby Johny, the priest stopped talking and let out a shriek of agony.
The sudden silence fell heavily on the church, inspiring wildly aroused devotees with unbearable shame and humiliation. They promptly zipped up their pants and slowly stumbled to the exit turning their heads to god and occasionally slipping on poodles of sperm.