Dear congregants, I'm afraid.

I'm afraid there's a stranger among us.

What does he mean?

I see you asking yourselves.

Is he being metaphorical?

Am I a stranger unto myself?

I'm seeing some faces go ready.

So look to your left and look to your right. See your spouse, child, your tot, your neighbor, your illegitimate cousin? Are they blushing? Do they look guilty? What desires are

they hiding? What secrets? What terrible deeds have they done?

Are they ensnaring you right this very moment?

Tonight, when you tuck your tot into terrified slumber,

or when you lean to kiss your spouse good night,

look them in the eye and say, I know what you did.

Answer no questions they might have.

Embrace betrayal, for betrayal is one of the nine holy mysteries of the story.

The story must be told.

The story must be told. The story must be told. Today's story comes straight from the stories locked, vault, refurbished, renewed, new to those who have not heard it, or a

refreshing warning to those who have. It is brutal. It is good. It is terrible.

For it is the story. But before we hear it, Sister Callista will lead us with a song.

I have a sack full of batteries, sizes double A, triple A, and a hefty bag of D's.

Uncoincidentally, there have been a series of break-ins in my neighborhood.

But when the cops arrive, nothing is missing.

...