Well hello my people. How are you liking that long book I wrote? I’ve been dying to write a sequel but really, who has the time? I’ve been too busy saving people from natural disasters while leaving others to perish, inspiring songs from The Beach Boys and Joan Osbourne, helping celebrities win Oscars and professional athletes win games. You know, the usual celeb stuff.
Just like any celeb, I have amassed a group of Superfans. Much like Bronies, Browncoats (people inexplicably obsessed with the mediocre sci-fi western Firely), and people following that deranged cult leader Dan Harmon, I have a group of people who wear very specific costumes and devote most of their time devoted to me. They call themselves priests (and my ladyfans can be nuns). Much like the Star Trek/Star Wars devotees, they too can’t get laid! I kid, I kid. I like to mess around. I do the open mic at Flapper’s in Burbank, come check me out.
One such fan, named Frank, is getting Ms. Dorothy Zbornak as hot and bothered. They work together on a school carnival or something that involves a cheap set and hanging banners. She asks him to dinner to meet her roommates, because nothing says playing it smooth than parading around your crush in front of your dysfunctional household.
Meanwhile, the other ladies are dismayed as to why Frank has not asked out Dorothy! (He hasn’t revealed his devotion to me yet. I get it. Not everyone understands or likes me. Haters gonna hate, right?)
Frank arrives anyway, and gives way to lots of foot in mouth scenarios. He tells Dorothy that he’s thinking of leaving the church. And then just leaves the house. Not a lot of brains on Frank, huh? He used up his prayers on poor starving children, not on his own self, I guess.
Dorothy meets Frank at church, or what I like to call a sheet of drywall and some benches, to offer herself to him. Dorothy gets, as the kids say, uh, “friendzoned” by Frank who is not leaving THE church, he’s leaving THIS church to become a “teaching priest” which is really a fancy word for the pyramid scheme I cooked up.
And while I have you, please support my Kickstarter for another season of Joan of Arcadia.