With a firm grip on her huge banana, Christine sucked on a camel and wondered out loud in her mind if mice with fully functioning human brains would even give her the time of day. . .

. . .Christine is pondering about something far away, when she had been a tiny girl monkey, and she had seen an appearance of the Virgin Mary as a tea cup.  She had been in the woods, not too far from the Father’s house.  In fact she was close enough to see the house.  She had been out by the side of the road, daydreaming about mice, when the Virgin erupted into her tiny girl monkey mind;  only she was a tea cup, not a woman.  Later, Christine decided that this was a sign.

The Tea Cup Virgin had told Christine that prayers were a lot like ideas— but if they just stayed inside her head, they may never come out into the real world and become actual.  The Virgin suggested that Christine imagine what it was she wanted.  Imagine her ideas were getting on a little train, and pretend the train was going straight up to the Father and the Son, but especially the Holy Ghost.  The Virgin told Christine all three of them were way up above the house— way up in the air somewhere— The Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

So Christine let her eyes roll back, and she looked up toward the high ceiling in the hallway, where she was— and imagined herself being created by divine fiat;  created from scratch, right there in the Father‘s living room, a fetus factory really, really way up in the sky.  Then God placed the tiny fetus’ into wombs around the world, and not a single hairy monkey was involved in any of this. Hmm.  Unless— they were the ones responsible for things like miscarriages, and birth defects;  the possibility made Christine’s head begin to swirl.

But then Christine remembered she had been daydreaming about mice, out by the side of the road;  mice that were smart, mice that could talk, with fully functioning human brains in their mouse heads, put there by scientists with fully functional human brains, but with the moral scruples of an orangutan.  In her daydream, the scientists carried all of the mice with human brains one by one by their hairless tails to a huge tea cup.  They were dipped up and down, up and down, up and down into the tea, and told over and over and over that evolution was not a myth.  And as you probably know, this is human brain washing in mice at its most utilitarian level.

Christine was tired and confused from practicing so long for the Senatorial primary pageant.  She had been worn out from practicing her tea party shtick, and she had also been exhausted from old film clips which kept appearing every day, which seemed to show that she has always been confused about things that mattered.  So when she had the chance, she grabbed one of the Blessed Virgin‘s big hot butts and tried to smoke it.  She was really needing something to relax her, and a big hot smokey Virgin butt was all she could get her hands on.

Only then did she suddenly remember that she had a huge banana—which she had been hiding at Sarah‘s house over at the nut farm.  She hid it over there because she had been unable to stay on her diet and was getting fatter and fatter.  She thought the banana was safe over there;  she was sure that if she couldn’t touch it, no one else would touch it either.  But she couldn’t help reminding herself that she did like to hold it in her hand, and peel it a little bit, so that its fleshy goodness was partially exposed.

Of course, just the thought of that huge, partially exposed banana made Christine‘s eyes roll back again, and she looked up toward the high ceiling, and she thought about the night she won the primary pageant, and the glories of winning… of actually having won the Senatorial primary pageant!
That was huge.
And while the memories were gratifying, there were bad memories, too.  Like when she had said evolution was a myth, when she really knew deep inside that she didn’t really know for sure what she was talking about.  She just knew that science was confusing.  And now it seemed that all the intricate twists and turns of her life between the glories of winning and the things the Blessed Virgin had told her in her monkey mind, and her obsession with her huge banana, oh and the mask she now had to wear to hide her secret monkey doubts about the things she kept saying she believed; all these things were making it impossible for her to relive her good memories with unfettered pleasure.

It was right then and there that Christine received word from the Holy Ghost, who told her silently in her tiny monkey mind that, for all he knew—which was a lot— monkeys had no part in the making of the universe, or people, and that people were hairy like monkeys for mysterious reasons that were totally unrelated to evolution;  but what the reasons were, the Holy Ghost couldn’t say.  But he did whisper like a tea pot that evolution was just a myth— created by the Father and the Son and the Holy Ghost— just to distract the mad scientists from more important things, like the myth of Climate Change.

Christine chuckled quietly to herself in her chattery monkey mind when she realized that, surprisingly, one good myth deserves another.  And no sooner had this thought come and gone, than thoughts of her huge secret banana gripped her once again.  She decided right then and there to go over to the nut farm.

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