Lou

Fatso’s Mom was acting like at Mass, like the priest. She knew the rock was from Jesus, that’s why she was moving so slow, plus being so fat. But then she left with it. I heard Fatso tell Ralph she was going to wash it off. So that made me think of John the Baptist. She was going to sprinkle the head like John the Baptist baptizing Jesus, because even Jesus had to be baptized, even Him.

I baptize Thee...

So that’s what she was doing out there—you could hear the water running—making the head official, making it Catholic.

Catholic is the only true religion. All the other ones are false. My friend Marcia is a Lutheran. She goes to church but it’s not Mass, it’s not real. Jesus isn’t there. She’s wasting her time. He’s in our church. I tried to tell her. Know what she said? The Pope is Satan. She really said that. I told her she was going to Hell. She said at least her father wasn’t a drunk. I punched her in the stomach. She ran in the house screaming her head off. Her mom came out and said I should be chained up.

Fatso was singing quiet to himself, “‘I’m Chiquita Banana and I’m here to say...’”

I snuck a peek at Ralph on Fatso’s other side. I had to lean way back.

Guess what he was doing, he was praying, hard. He was kneeling up straight with his eyes shut tight and his hands together perfect, moving his lips.

Ralph was back!

I felt like doing the Twist.

I felt like doing the Mashed Potato.