Parsnips For All

Well... I was supposed to be going to New York. But it seems that the pilot forgot to clear his flight path with air traffic control. And when they ask for identification, it isn't a good idea to use the opportunity to chat to the Air Traffic Controller about how The Lord is going to wreak a teriffic vengeance on this evil world for smiting the Parsnip.

So, naturally, we were given an RAF fighter pilot escort back to the UK. We were taken to Gatwick airport, where we were held for some time and quizzed about what we know about Allah and other such entities. I told them all I knew about the Parsnip, which resulted in numerous interested glances. I think I converted one of the MI5 staff by demonstrating to her the Power of my large Parsnip.

I was eventually released, although I have a £5,000 fine to pay. Fortunately, I have the proceeds of several weeks church collection plates with me (the Old Dears were very generous), and so this is nothing but a small incursion into my vast riches.

I heard on the news that most of Mevagissey has been destroyed. I guess no one will care much about the Bishop now anyway, since he is nothing more than bones. It is no more than he deserved!

I am now staying at a hotel in London. I cannot disclose the identity, for fear of being mobbed by my loving fans. But I intend to have a pleasant evening watching the Pr0n channels and making love to the wife. She will also feel the power of my large Parsnip!

My programme of revenge has begun in earnest.

Yesterday, I discovered a wonderful thing down at the allotment. I discovered that if I squashed parsnips so much - and yes, I did feel sorry for the poor things at first for injuring them so badly, but it was worth it! - they eventually became so concentrated that within five minutes they will explode most horrifically, killing everyone within a 10m radius.

So I've slipped a few through the doors of the Heathens on the Parish Council and several Old Dears. As you can see, the Lord takes no prisoners when it comes to smiting those who have stood in His way. There will be no stopping the Way of the Parsnip.

Now, I am awaiting the explosions. Once I am satisifed with them, I will then begin my journey to Mevagissey airstrip, where I will make for New York. I hope to drop my Mighty Prize Parsnip out of the private jet I have acquired for the journey. This Parsnip weighs 100kg, and it was sad to have to squash Old Herbert so that I could do this, but I know he will not mind giving up his life for the noble pursuit of the destruction of the whole of Mevagissey.

Phear The Mighty Prize Parsnip, for He Will Smite All Those Who Challenged Him!

Wish me luck!

Things have taken for the worse today. You may remember that today I was to leave my Vicarage under the orders of the Bishop.

Well, he turned up and I'd not packed a single thing. He was most flabbergasted, and insisted, nay demanded, that I leave at once and he will forward all my belongings to an address of my choice.

Unfortunately, the fucker chose to do this at 4am local time.

As most people are aware, it comes as a shock to the system to be knocked up at 4am, and I am not at my peak, especially because I haven't had my parsnips for breakfast just yet. He banged hell out of the door and ordered me to leave as he was standing outside.

As a direct consequence of this, I opened the door, and banged an equal hell out of his face. He collapsed to the ground in a lifeless heap. It would seem I caught him quite an unfortunate blow to the side of his head. It must have dislodged a blood clot or something as I believe he is dead. I dragged his lifeless body inside and he is now slumped in front of the TV on my Royal Parsnip Throne watching Coronation Street.

I have doused him with whisky (which was a tragic event as I prefer not to waste my precious Jack Daniels!) surroundED him with boxes of Kleenex and put one of my favourite porn movies: "Mrs Gosworth Rides Again!" in the VCR on loop. When he is discovered, I will not be here. But the Bishop will. And it will look as if he has Bashed The Bishop in more ways than one.

This evening I catch a plane. I am heading out to New York and I hope to arrive at the airport sometime tomorrow. A new chapter of my life begins here!

But I have some surprises I must deliver to my congregation before I leave. I hope to share more stories later.

Hail the Parsnip!

Did you know that high-rise buildings could be much stronger if they constructed them out of parsnips?

Yes indeed... the Power of a Blessed Parsnip, once sanctified by myself, would be enough to resist even the attempts of the strongest man in the world to chew through the immortal fibrous nature of the external parts of a parsnip!

There would be no way the skyscrapers would ever feel any damage in the event of an earthquake if they were laid on a foundation of parsnips. Their strength would allow them to absorb all the earthquakey vibrations and there would not be a single teacup out of place... even if every other building around collapsed in a factor 10 earthquake.

Yet another reason why Parsnips are the King of All Vegetables!

The wife has just entered with a fine parsnip stew for tea. This will be of great use to me as I need something to focus my mind. I always find that the nutrients in a parsnip stew will kick start my brain into action, allowing me to become more receptive to the superb ideas that the Lord is ready to send me. I know He will not fail me!

The reason why I have to think is that I do not have much time left before I have to leave on Friday. I still do not know how to react to this... but I know that whatever I do, I have the Lord on my side, and I will be steering towards an eventual victory.

Anyway, I have just donned my finest pair of rollerblades and I intend to do four laps of Mevagissey to scout out any Demons in the area. By Demons I mean prostitutes. They always come out on a Thursday night, and I feel that it is time for another one of my re-education sessions. I am worried that I may be spotted by some of the Old Dears, as one of them sent me in the post a rotting parsnip with a knife through it and a note attached "Even Parsnips die in the end!"

This is deeply concerning.

My work is complete on my latest invention: the Parsnip Cannon.

It works very much like an ordinary cannon. Only, it fires projectile parsnips at a punishingly powerful velocity! I have developed a new "heat seeking" parsnip, and I intend to fire one at the Bishop's arse. It will be attracted to him because his arse is the orifice through which he talks most of the time, and thus it is very hot. There it will penetrate and settle in his system, causing him severe discomfort and anal fissures for some months!

Parsnips are Powerful, and you ignore them at your Peril! Be warned! If you are a Heathen to the Way of the Parsnip too, then you may also find an attack from the rear to be a distinct possibility!

And then you too Will Feel The Wrath Of The Parsnip!

I'm a bit confused now. I hate my Bishop for ordering me to leave. He's a bastard. But I need to know what to do next. I am supposed to be out by Friday.

But I have given great thought to staying here, locking myself in and taking the Bishop hostage until he gives me my job back. Or I could drop that and just squat in this vicarage until the tide blows over.

I do not know what to do, but I am confident that the Lord will send me in the right direction. He knows what to do in situations like this, and it is through His power and guidance that I will find the answer.

Yes, I enacted my plan. Last night I broke into McDonalds and released a torrent of turds into the machine that cooks the burgers. Or at least, I think that was the machine. Then I left parsnips on every single table so that there could be no doubt of the message.

McDonalds in Mevagissey is now destroyed. There is no way they will be able to recover quickly enough for the Freedom Festival planned this weekend.

The Lord will wreak vengeance on those who take the Parsnip hostage and smear his brain with dark thoughts. I am merely His conduit, and I carry out his bidding on Earth as he does in Heaven.

Afterwards, I smashed all the windows and wiped anthrax all over the tables and counters. Hopefully there will be some Punishment Deaths the next time they open! It is only what they deserve.

I have been relieved of my post!

My Bishop is pure evil. He told me that he could no longer stand idly by while my parish went into open revolt. He had received complaints from Old Dears that they caught a glimpse of breast during a genuine wardrobe malfunction at Sunday's service. Yes, my spandex suit failed ever so slightly while I charged down the aisle during a guitar solo at the Sunday service, but I didn't think they would mind. They haven't minded up till now, and I've exposed much more to them - but that's behind closed doors. Especially Mrs Gosworth. Ahem!

But this is not good at all. From where now will I preach the message of salvation?! I have long suspected that my bishop is more of a Turnip Man. I roared a curse on him before he left, and then decided to hurl a few bricks at his car as he drove away for good measure. My aim was more accurate this time!

I have to leave by Friday. I know that this cannot be the Lord's doing, for He wants me to keep up the Way of the Parsnip! But this may be new dawn. And I've yet to take on McDonalds, although I am preparing a little surprise for them after closing tonight.

I have many scores to settle. It could be time to bring my Spanking Stick - used to discipline errant members of my congregation before it was banned in 1962 - out of retirement.

When the Parsnip fails, only the Rule of the Iron Rod will suffice! They will feel my wrath and vengeance - but pain is only another way of saying that I Love Them All Really. God's Love will flow through the stick as it crashes onto their buttock cheeks. Discipline and proper chastisement is all part of God's will for expressing His love for His people.

Then they will Bow Before the Parsnip!

I don't have much time to keep the world informed of my progress this morning, as I'm very busy preparing the house in order to receive the Bishop later this morning. I am extremely concerned about a dream I had about a world where parsnips grow poorly and the only edible ones are being mass produced in a factory in Singapore. Some may even conclude that this is an omen of things to come.

I am sure that it's not, and it's just McDonalds trying to attack me with their Evil Thought Machine. Parsnips will live on forever, as He will grant them eternal life.

Hail the Parsnip!

This evening I am posting to you from my allotment. I don't think I've told you before that I have an allotment, but now I shall divulge this critical data to you, as it is important in the next part of this story.

I have an allotment. But it isn't an ordinary allotment. Oh no! It is a Parsnip Paradise! I decided to retire to here for most of the day in order to rest my weary soul and prepare myself for the journey ahead. This may well be the last day of peace and quiet I get. I am too unpopular in the village to do my usual stroll around town, standing in the village square and preaching the Way of the Parsnip to all and sundry. I usually get monetary donations from American and Japanese tourists, and all of it gets spent wisely in Defence of the Faith! (And Consumption of Jack Daniels!)

But I couldn't do that today. So I spent the whole day at the allotment and I have just finished fertilising the soil. I'm currently wirelessly connected to the Internet. Isn't it wonderful!

The best part of this, however, is what is under the allotment. Yes! There resides my secret laboratory in which I conduct experiments on parsnips in an attempt to produce the juiciest parsnip in the history of mankind. A parsnip so strong and powerful that it would distort the very fabric of space-time on consumption, knocking the Eater into an alternate reality as the Laws of Physics cannot cope with such extreme parsnippery deliciousness in this dimension!

I am a long way from achieving this goal, but initial tests on my guinea pigs (which are rabbits, actually) have produced some remarkable results: ranging from instant death to a large flying leap in an attempt to claw my face off.

The Power of the Parsnip is Strong in them! It will soon reach all of Mankind! Parsnips will be the Tool of the Righteous!

On checking my diary, I have noticed that I have a visit from my Bishop tomorrow. I am not looking forward to this, and I have a feeling in my stomach that there could be bad news ahead.

Ack! A boll weevil! This satanic creature must be squished out of existence. When I am Lord I will ban them and order an extermination programme to remove them from God's Earth. It is what He would want.

A swift blow with my shoe has killed the fucker! Death to Weevils! Hail the Parsnip's Shoe, for it Has Much Greatness!

It's been a slow start to the war. Overnight I had an interesting dream about large McDonalds arches on fire. This must be a sign from God that victory will be mine eventually.

I am eating many more parsnips than usual. They are to me as spinach is to Popeye. Only through blind obedience to the Way of the Parsnip will I achieve my goal of destruction of McDonalds.

Out in the village people are sneering at me. I've already been for my morning jog. The Old Dears have taken up residence on the seats in the village square already (they must arrive at 3am or something) and they will not move all day. But if looks could kill, I would most certainly be dead by now. I just cannot believe they have turned against me in such a fickle manner. Even the ever delightful Mrs Gosworth is not looking quite so ravishing this morning.

Time will tell.

I am still in a state of shock at what happened. I'd geared myself up for a fantastic service: one of the best in my career. I was ready to deliver what would be a resounding and scathing attack on the local helicopter flying school, but I was not expecting the reaction I got.

I started off the service in typical fashion, with my usual star-studded and glamorous entrance. I like to don a spandex suit and burst in with my electric guitar to the hallowed strains of AC/DC's Back In Black. The choir boys and girls are in control of the lights, which they dim and then use spotlights and disco balls and other assorted paraphenalia... creating a real show for the Old Dears, who love a blasting to wake them up the morning. This normally sets the tone for the rest of the proceedings, but I should have known things would go wrong when I totally screwed up the solo. Oh, and one of the stage lights came crashing down, nearly killing me. That was very suspicious, as the boys and girls are normally so reliable. I think one of the flying instructors has bribed them and tried to kill me off. The bastards!

But then things got worse! As I started delivering my mighty sermon, I got heckled.

Me!

The Reverend Parson Peter Parsnip got heckled!

By the Old Dears!

One by one they stood up and shouted such blasphemies as:

"Death to parsnips!"

"Stick your parsnips where the sun don't shine!"

And the worst of them all...

"Turnips are better than parsnips!"

I screamed and roared: "YOU WILL ALL BE DAMNED TO AN ETERNITY IN HELL! ALL OF YOU! YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO DEFY THE WAY OF THE PARSNIP! EVEN IF ONLY ONE OF YOU REBELS, YOU WILL ALL BE SMITED VERILY ASUNDER!!! FLAMES, HELLFIRE AND DAMNATION AND NO PARSNIPS AWAIT YOU ALL!!"

They continued to challenge me, their strength growing as more people found the evil motivation to speak out. The Devil is not involved here. It is another far more evil force: one who seeks to rid the world of all vegetables altogether... not just the humble parsnip!

I knew this day might come eventually. The day where I'd have to take on a mighty foe, more powerful than God himself. The strength and formidibility of this foe would be indefineable. Only the greatest will prevail in a long and deadly battle of two adversaries. But, in my eventual triumph, it would clear the way for the Way of the Parsnip and the Coming of the Age of Root Vegetables would finally be upon the world.

Yes... McDonalds are behind this. Their corporate machine has heard of my threat to their existence. And they have brainwashed everyone in the village. They are all out to get me.

But I will win.

The war begins now.

Often on Sunday mornings I like to open the large chest freezer and insert my head in there for some seconds, before getting stuck in completely. I'll then shut the door after me and wait. This kind of coldness is a test for me! It reminds me of all the sacrifices that Jesus made for us all... and I feel proud to emerge unscathed and even more alert than ever. I do believe that the coldness activates a special gland in my brain that gets me into Sermon Mood for the upcoming service today.

Only through constant mental torture and physical stress will we keep our minds and bodies pure for the Lord, and, of course, the eventual coming of the Way of the Parsnip. See the Bible, and see how much suffering God inflicts on everyone who does not do his bidding! You will be struck down if you do not comply! Bow down before me and realise that I am the Future!

I am all fired up for today's service which begins at 10:30am. I have my sermon memorised off by heart and I intend to deliver it with all the passion I can muster. We will take down the evil that is that helicopter field - I triple guarantee it!

I've wondered around my village this morning to see how many people are up and about getting ready for church. Clearly there have been many people preparing through the night, it seems! Indeed, some of them must have got themselves so worked up that there is sick everywhere. They do get nervous over what I'm going to say, it seems. There are also many smashed bottles of alcohol... I am surprised that people have to turn to the demon drink to deal with the situation though. The Lord provided the parsnip as a stress reliever! Use it properly!