THE REVEREND JOSIAH PYKE'S MOBILE PHONE.
The Reverend Josiah Pyke was wonderfully happy with his mobile (cell) phone.
It was supposed to be one of those all-singing, all-dancing devices that could forecast the weather, tell him what the time was to the nearest decimal minute and communicate with anyone anywhere in the world.
He wanted to communicate with his boss, and although he truly believed that boss was somewhere called Heaven he was convinced that any man-made cellular device should be able to cross the ether to it, no problem.
He put the fact that his all-singing, all-dancing mobile phone stubbornly refused to do that down to his own simple-minded adherence to stone age technologies. You see, the Reverend Josiah Pyke had a real need to communicate with the almighty. His congregation had shrunk and he wanted to know how to get it back.
A quick phone-call, he thought, a few quick words when he's not so busy and he'll tell me what to do...
He'd tried praying,of course, but he got no reply because, he reasoned, praying wasn't technologically advanced enough for modern times. There are, he told himself, so many people in the world that the Almighty can't be expected to listen to everyone without enhanced networking capabilities.
So he went to a modern mobile phone shop and asked for a top-of-the-range model, one capable of reaching anywhere on Earth, and off it, he added almost sardonically. The young bearded salesman thought it must be an attempt at a clerical joke so he smiled knowingly. But it wasn't. The Reverend Josiah Pyke didn't do jokes.
He made his way home in a state of excitement and most certainly would have tried communication of an advanced technological kind with his deity even before making his cup of coffee, but the Bishop was waiting for him.
?Sherry, sir|?? he asked, aware of his superior's primary weakness.
?Just a small one,? grunted the bishop, ashamed of it.
The Reverend Josiah Pyke poured a generous measure of slightly diluted cooking sherry from a crystal decanter and handed it to his immediate terrestrial superior.
?We are concerned,? rumbled the Bishop after grimacing at the first sip from his glass, ?we are concerned that congregations seem to be falling.?
Josiah Pyke nodded soberly. ?They are,? he agreed.
?They seem to be at rock bottom,? muttered the Bishop.
?They can't go much lower,? concurred the cleric.
?So we must do something about it,? gravelled the Bishop.
?I am planning on a BOGOF campaign,? grinned the Reverend Josiah Pyke off the top of his own rather silly head.
?BOGOF?? queried the Bishop, ?that sounds sordid to me! What can you mean by BOGOF? You're not cursing, are you? Using dirty or smutty language to your Bishop? You're not making sexual innuendos surely? ?
?Buy one, get one free, sir,? tantalised the Reverend. ?Sell a funeral and let them have a second for the same price. Ditto with christenings and weddings. Get them in that way. It'll mean extra work for me, of course...?
?Probably double it,? scoffed the Bishop, ?but that shouldn't trouble you over-much seeing as twice nothing is still nothing... you don't appear to have anything to do with your time...?
?I'm entering the technological age, sir,? simpered the Reverend Josiah Pyke. ?I have this very day bought a top of the range mobile telephonic device with which to communicate to Our Lord!?
?Goodness me, idiot!? roared the Bishop, demanding a second helping of diluted cooking sherry with a flourish of his glass. ?The Lord's not on the phone! He's above that sort of thing! He listens to everyone, even Muslims!?
?I don't seem to be able to get through to him...? wobbled Josiah Pyke. ?My prayers seem to go undetected by our Heavenly Father. It's my opinion that he has upgraded to a mobile network, what with all the extra people on the planet and the unbelievably huge collection of prayers he gets bombarded with.?
?You're mad!? glowered the Bishop. ?You're madder than a box of frogs! I'm getting out of here before you get any madder in case it's catching!?
?It makes sense to me,? rippled the Reverend Josiah Pyke, beginning to enjoy the purple colour that had washed over the Bishop's neck and into his already florid cheeks.
The Bishop almost hurled himself towards the door, and would have exited in a supreme cloud of protestation and hatred when the reverend's new mobile phone rang.
?Oooh, that'll be for me,? trilled the Reverend, and he pressed appropriate buttons on the face of his brand new phone before pressing it to his ear.
?Yes, Lord, yes!? he exclaimed, and listened for few moments longer. Then he turned to the Bishop who was sliding down the front door towards the welcome mat with a look of almost apoplectic surprise on his face.
?It's God, Bishop, for you,? he whispered, ?it's a good job I bought this phone! He just called to say he loves you...?
But the Bishop didn't hear. He was in no condition to hear anything, nor would be ever again.
? Peter Rogerson 07.01.13
I seem to be creating another of my characters. Here's a link to a previous part.
1. The Reverend Josiah Pyke's Judgement
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