The Apocalypse of Fletcher, ch. 7

Fletcher and Reuel—to the scattered flock of Spokane, who have fled to British Colombia, which is in God the Father and in the Lord Jesus Christ—Greetings, halfwits.

Forgive my language, for my companion assists me in this letter, and believes, as I do, that a dog could learn our commands faster than you. But I recant, my dearest brethren. We are bound to thank God for you, as your faith and love for one another grows. And yet, we also wonder what exactly it will take for you to put two and two together. We shall glory in our Lord Jesus once you people show the mental capacity of a brain-damaged cow; for it is life to us if you keep your faith in the Lord unchanged. By his mercy have you been guided this far on the path to righteousness; surely you must not need help further? But, alas, thus far you have dashed all my hopes and dreams for your people, and you have been relegated to a barren place in my heart.

You have done many deeds that force me to reconsider my trust in you. I am disappointed in your apparent lack of progress, as all other churches are doing wonderfully with expanding. You, however, exhibit a lack of knowledge that would make even the town idiot feel as wise as King Solomon! In your state, there is a fool born every other moment, a fool who cannot take the time to understand what it means to be a child of God. I fear that you have no idea what, or how, I teach.

Yet, once my expectations in you were so great! When first I set out on my journeys, I traveled thousands of leagues and tens of miles in search of those who could inherit the kingdom. I traveled to Wenatchee, Ontario, and many other cities, but in you, I found those whom I felt had the potential to love and be loved as God’s faithful children. I thought you would make excellent disciples, those who would carry out Christ’s mission throughout the world. I believed that you would become the foremost in the advance of God’s kingdom. I prayed that you would be the foundations of a new people, as Saint Bartholomew became the foundation for a new church. My faith in you never wavered, and yet you failed me, my brethren; you failed me as much as you failed your heavenly Father.

Oh, Spokanians, you who have fallen so low! Know you not how much faith I had in you when first we met? When my second letter was sent, I had been relying solely on the positive claims of your first reply to my teachings. You were eager pupils, and I anxiously awaited your next letter, praying to God that you had progressed tremendously in wisdom and faith. I fear, however, that you have remembered little.

You say you have not heard of the Deliverance. Oh, you who are so deaf! Did I not preach these things to you? The war will indeed end and God will protect his own. This is all part of God’s grand plan to bring the world to perfection. Watch and wait for that day, for it is not far off. The LORD has seen the pain you have gone thru being administered by Canada: winter 11 months out of the year, the emphasis that is placed on hockey, and mayonnaise on everything. You are not alone in your struggles. In the American administered section of Cascadia, the war is still being fought. American kamikazes are burning our precious forests, causing the Sasquatch militia to retreat on all fronts. In the east, the Americans have pushed almost to the Cascade Range. In the south, however, the Federalists have been pushed back. The Cascadian Corridor is completely ours again as we have recaptured the city of Eugene. Plans are being made to drive back the Army in east Cascadia. Potatoes from Madison and Jackson will once again come forth. Your arteries will swell with the starch wherefrom in the near future. The offensive continues and Medford should fall to our forces soon. The rebellion in San Francisco is about to start which will deliver a crushing blow to those Federalists.

Dear brethren, when you disturbed me I was writing a letter to our newly freed brothers in Eugene. But let me put that aside so I can deal with your questions about how to arrange the chairs during Mass. Henceforth, you shall arrange them as such: in neat rows lined up in front of the altar, as is aesthetically pleasing to God. It is for the same reason that you dress up on Sunday mornings. But, really, do I have to tell you this myself? Use the minds God your Father gave you. Oh Spokanians! Become wise, men of wisdom, men like gods! But that is too high a standard, I fear; so now I set my decrees for you and for your church.

Brethren, rejoice in one another and in Christ. Work on good deeds, and worry not about the color of the carpets (I prefer red, but that's just me). Be satisfied with oaken pews. Offer each other a kiss, or the soul brother handshake, if appropriate. When you sing, sing of the glory of God. Do not engage in sexual immorality or thoughts that defile the temple Christ has built in your hearts. When you sing "Proud Mary," sing it slowly and pensively. An up-tempo version leads to evil thoughts. No evil thoughts can be allowed in the house of God, for his is a holy house, founded on truth, and the Spirit resides in this house, bringing new life to all who come to dwell in God. Though I doubt you will understand a single word I have just written, I pray for you to receive the message within these words.

Now I read that you do not know, and have not heard, the voice of God in your hearts. I am disappointed in you, my brethren! God surely will not speak to you as he will to me, for he resides in me and I in him and he holds my very spirit and soul in heaven for correspondence. You do not know the burden I bear: one misstep and I shall be smote. Wait for his voice, my brethren, and you shall be rewarded.

Dearest brethren, fear not. I have received your letters, and I had been duly planning a trip to Tigard until I got your latest foolish correspondence. Do you not believe what you have heard? I fear for you, my brethren. Long nights have I stayed awake searching for the way that would allow you to comprehend God’s mysteries without injuring yourselves. But, my dear brethren, I digress. May my prayers for you come to pass, then, else you all rot in a smoldering, underground, mountain hole. The grace and peace of the Lord Jesus Christ be with all of you.