I bumped into my friend Cousin Jack the other day. He was lean and weatherbeaten, like a man who’d survived six months in the Andes following a plane crash.

Where have you been?.... I asked him.

In the Andes, he said.... Plane crashed.

Jack isn’t the most talkative.

So? .... I prompted him.

I found a monastery. Met a priest you might know. He nursed me back to health.

Really?

Yeah. A guy name of Titsworth

Titsworth? Surely not.

Was it Tommy Titsworth

Could be.... Called himself Thomas.

I was astonished. Tommy Titsworth left years ago to join a monastery abroad after an unfortunate incident with a badger....

Did Father Titsworth, by any chance, tell you how he’s been getting on?

Sure did. ... Matter of fact, he was glad to talk since he doesn’t see too many people up there on the top of the Andes.

He’s isolated?

Yeah...... Seems the Mexican priests kicked him out so he started an order of his own. One of those things where a fella, you know, thinks about stuff....

A contemplative order?

That’s the one.... A con tem plative order. That’s it..... He con-tem-plates, mostly what it must be like to get a shag... but other stuff too. Like how to turn a pan loaf into Jesus.

So how many other monks are with him?

None. Seems nobody would join up, what with him fondling himself all the time, and everything...... and of course, that thing he does with the animals.

Yeah... I can imagine.... The badger incident was not pretty.

You know, said Cousin Jack, he kinda opened up with me after a while. Seems he arrived in Mexico to be a priest and then he was applying to NASA to bring the Eucharist to the Moon.

NASA?

Yeah..... He wanted to be the first priestronaut....lol

To the Moon. He wanted to bring the Eucharist to the Moon?

Well, not exactly. He wanted to be the chaplain on the rocket in case anything went wrong and they ended up stranded on the Moon. He could save everyone’s soul. When NASA turned him down, he applied to all the airlines to be a sky pilot. He reckoned he could rustle up the body and blood of Jesus out of just about anything. An old bag of potatoes... A pack of rice-cakes.... A slice of salami. Even a cigarette if he had to and it was an emergency.

The airlines didn’t hire him?

What do you think........ So he ended up back in the Mexican monastery until one day he made the body and blood of Jesus out of a Cactus and that caused the ugly incident with that Badger thing

They didn’t like that?

They kicked him out. Don’t come back, they said. You fucking nutcase, they said, or whatever Mexican priests shout when they get mad at you. Hombre loco or something. I think he said they called him by that Russian president’s name.

That’s when he set up his one-man contemplative order?

Yep..... At the top of the Andes, waiting for a plane crash....waiting for an animal shag .... Grooming alpacas. And that’s where he met me.

So how is he now?

Oh, he’s back home. When I explained to him about the internet, he came straight back with me on the rescue flight, ... set up the First Church of Troll and now he spends his days watching porn and picking fights..... He’s very happy.

I’m delighted for him, I said..... It’s a big improvement over that filthy other thing he used to do.

Oh, said Jack. He’s still doing that, but who am I to judge?