—”Unhand me, gray beard loon!”
Perfect!
Just perfect.
A friend and I were out to lunch on a workday and he ran into an old boss and invites him to sit with us... we were spellbound like the wedding guests. I needed to return to work, but no way.
The guy had been a wild young man, very Italian; telling us his real-life come to Jesus story.
He wakes up to the smell of burning sulfur a sign of Satan.
His sister a Catholic nun, appears and tells him to change his ways for he is bound for Hell...
The next day he receives a notice hs sister had died that night.
He retired and helps out in the church as he can and also works in the church baking bread for ongoing fundraisers.
In no way do I wish to make light of this event, it was transformative.
“Eftsoons his hand dropt he!”...
(The Wedding guest, here beat his breast, for he heard the bassoon within!)
Wow!