Archive for the ‘Lee Jacob Pulps’ Category


Many were calling for Bobbi’s head. Canada does not have a death penalty, but it doesn’t mean it isn’t raised many times in regards to gun crimes. It was hard to progress with charges when the victim was non-co-operative, he asked for the possibility with the Crown Prosecutor for a house arrest style situation at St. Jude’s that would allow Bobbi to complete school, and work off compensation as a janitor.

Jacobs pressed the button to raise his bed up so he could look out the window with his one good eye.  He watched the armoured figured fly across. Grinned slightly. The bullet had shattered his left eye and knocked him on his butt. Bobbi had attempted to save him, who knew there would be a supernatural intervention so love could overcome hate. His fingers traced the eye patch, he could add pirate to his job list.

Fidgeting in the uncomfortable office chair was retired constable, Sean James. “Many thought you were a goner.”

Jacobs laughed. “Can’t be that morose and dark all the time, sometimes a new beginning means literally that.”

“She’s settling in well.” James said, while picking at a band aid on the back of his hand.

“But can we afford her?” Jacobs already new what his head Elder thought, finances was his concern. Lee never worried about those, he always stood by the flow method, if he created space for the need it would flow in. “Melanie Moon will be an excellent Co-Minister of St. Jude’s.” She had stood the line, the people trusted her. It made sense, and was a good transition from her work after the election of chaos and hate.

James just shook his head and grinned. If he wanted to be an elder at a church that was easy on the ulcer he would’ve joined a United one that y’know actually panicked about things as nickles and dimes in offering plates as opposed to jumping in head first. “Ashram has been bulldozed.” James said. “Break ground on the retired agent residence, will also have a side door working with the agency for any Supras and their spouses.” Jacobs nodded, a residence with on sight psychologists 7 days a week in their on-site medical clinic.  Surprisingly the idea had come from Beth Venus, who was now living in a room in the newly rebuild Manse of St. Jude. Having seen what happened to the old guard, she wanted something better. Since Speedster had left her the property, James worked with her to create the design.

“How’s Bobbi?” Jacobs asked. The boy had not come to see him since he had been loaded into the ambulance. He was worried for him.

James moved from the chair and walked towards the door, the other 3 beds in the room were still empty. He opened the door and stepped out. Jacobs heard some talking before walking back in with Bobbi. The lad locked eyes on Jacobs good eye.

“Father Jacobs I am soo—”

Jacobs interrupted. “Don’t apologize. You tried to save lives. You are working off your debt. I hold no debt or reason for forgiveness over you.” Jacobs waited a few beats as this boy looked stunned. Even after the few years at St. Jude’s, he was not used to compassion in response to what would appear against the grain. Or missing the mark.

“Bobbi, friends?”

Jacobs extends his hand to Bobbi. A shaking teenage hand takes the one with i.v. lines in the back of it.

One Enigmatic Tale Ends

Others await to be told.

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“Go now in Holy Love of the Creator, the blessing of Brother Jesus, and the Family of the Holy Spirit. Go. Embrace. Simply say, I love you.”

Bobbi was from small town middle of nowhere’s in Alberta. Barely 16 years old when he fled home as his Dad had literally tried to beat the gay out of him.  A preacher’s kid Bobbi always found it ironic that he found himself on the steps of St. Jude’s after being jumped a few blocks away and beaten for trying to flirt.

Father Jacobs had shown compassion. Not what he had learned to expect from the church.  The folks worked with Bobbi to get a place of his own and into school, and found a lawyer so he could become emancipated. Bobbi still has visceral shakes when he remembers his Dad and brothers storming the Sunday Service looking for their “daughter and baby sister”.  Elder James and Father Jacobs blocked the isle. They had always spoken non-violence, but when the four on two attempted to swing, Jacobs used what he described as Aikido, a passive form of martial arts that uses ones own energy against them.

Bobbi’s dad and brothers left that day bruised in ego and body. Saying they had no family in this city. Bobbi should’ve felt pain, instead he felt… FREEDOM. He had a new family.

Now the trench coat had flown off. A yellow vest running towards the altar area.

He had hit his truck and gotten the .22 his Dad had given taught all his children to shoot for hunting, and Bobbi still enjoyed hunting. The wild meat made for some amazing community meals.

Violence is never the answer, Love is. Yet the day when they came for Bobbi…Father Jacobs and Elder James stood their ground.

He fumbles a bullet in and bolt actions. Exhales and fires at the running form.

As a yellow vest falls into the crowd and vanishes.

The pop shattered the moment.

“No.” was it even audible as the rifle falls to the parking lot. Commands to hands behind head. Bobbi is moving through muscle memory of compliance.

As where once there was four, now there was only three…


Beth nods to Moon, a trench coated figure moving in the far back with a ball cap pulled down. Retired Constable Sean James followed the gaze, he knew security was good and would get the individual. Due to the dress looked very androgenous, but they had rounded up many that had decided to cause a ruckus.

Jacobs was in Jacobs form. The Holy Spirit was moving through him, Beth thinks as she continues to scan the crowd. She chuckled at the thought. This old broken down writer turned preacher she knew very little about who looked her in the eye when she was in the Bionic Knight armour and said no to her offer of help. Now today he was holding a parking lot Mass of Hope he called it. The Open Table of Love. It sounded corny as it went through her mind, but the corn bread was real.

Another break out of campfire hymn singing. As it quiets down, Jacobs picks up the bread “On the night he was betrayed, betrayed out of fear and hate for change, for the old ways dying away. For those oppressive powers and control authorities realizing they needed to release and let go and let come the new Holy Love. Jesus took bread and broke it. This is the bread of hope.” As if on cue lunch bags, snacks, you name it started coming out, and a potluck smorg was shared with all. It was St. Jude’s way. Communion was not just a simple piece of bread it was eating, like the feeding of the masses miracle. Jacobs handed the bread to Moon and James who let it out to the crowd, as well as the baskets of sandwiches.

Moon smiled as she watched the bread and food move into the crowd. The other reason St. Jude’s was so relevant and real, as she had begun to understand as the area MLA (Member of Legislative Assembly) wasn’t because of some Platonic, Metaphysical or Western-Constantinian Theology…it was simple love through ensuring folks could get to treatment, medical appointments, kids were cared for, and when months were tight in the socio-economically diverse area bills were covered and food was in pantries. She had once asked Jacobs to see a budget sheet, he burst out laughing and said, “Talk to Elder James, he gets heart palpitations at least 8 times a day with how that thing is bent, broken and abused.” When she pushed on how they still survived.

He gave this grin with a chuckle. It wasn’t cockiness. It was a depth of humility. It was the type of look when he locked eyes on you that you truly believed it was all going to be alright and the good would win. “Because we give.” It made no sense to her political mind, or her basic undergrad economics mind, yet here was the result. The more they gave the more…they had in tangible and intangible ways. Almost like there truly is enough for everyone in the world.

He nodded to Beth Venus. The next part. “Then he took the cup, knowing that his blood was about to be spilled. That he was to lose his life for simply sharing the story of Holy Love and belonging. This is the cup of promise. Drink and be at the table together as family.” Beth got volunteers to begin rolling out coolers with juice, pop and water to share.

Sean James admitted Jacobs has driven him batty the entire time he has known him, from his reporter days forward.  James also knew if he did something it was with conviction and belief of actually helping people. His eyes watched the crowd reacting. Lee held that through love you dissolved hate. James thought he was nuts, and said “I told you so.” After St. Jude’s bombing and as the crowd’s gathered today.

It had looked like it was going to snow, but it had held off.

And now what he was seeing.

She noted tears in people’s eyes at the simple acts. Those in hate garb, some let it drop off as they made eye contact for the food. Simple, kindness.

Moon, James, and Venus note the trench coat drop off, the yellow vest, the cap off…

The costume underneath.

She was already vibrating wanting to dodge at super speed towards Jacobs. Beth could hear her words through magic vibration. “this life took my Johnny.” She had known her friend was hurting. But had been improving, and had entered this place of what Venus believed was contentment. Looking at the situation now it was resignation of having a plan on a place to misdirect her anger and denial.

She had promised no powers.

But here was the Speedster flying towards Jacobs ready to tear him to pieces.

An audible…

“johnny”

“Go now in Holy Love of the Creator, the blessing of Brother Jesus, and the Family of the Holy Spirit. Go. Embrace. Simply say, I love you.”

As a yellow vest falls into the crowd and vanishes.

The pop shattered the moment.


The first question arose about the retired Supra agent Jacobs had been seen with after the shoot out at the trailer. He hated turning Sunday Service into a media blitz, but sometimes the Liturgy (work of the people) was about being the catalyst for change. Jacobs chuckled it was a very Catholic Workers or Social Gospel or Liberation Theology movement, but it was true. Today in the parking lot outside the office, as the writ had been dropped and Melanie Moon was no longer an MLA, and the Social Credit party ceased to be. It became outdoor church.

Already the mud slinging by the former governing and former official opposition parties had begun. Jacobs’ heart was to filled with sorrow to track the rants and lies. The fact that old things were dragged up to attack character, but no newer patterns of same behaviour were there to show legitimacy or current causation. That is even though it may be true (an attack, not a smear) it was without merit and did not allow for the fact that human being grow and evolve over a lifetime. Or the stirring of the hate and fear pot. His opening prayer had been simple at this cross roads of grief:

“Loving Creator, we are a people, a province at the crossroads. Change is grieving. We are trapped in anger and denial. Gnashing our teeth and shaking our fists against that which is no longer possible or plausible. We need hope, we need to let go that which was, and be fully present in our new reality, a province where all belong simply because they are. A true community with an open table, that loves as our Brother Jesus commanded and lived for us to do. Let us surrender our pain in this wilderness so that we can let come the new blessings that await… Alleluia!” Jacobs prayed.

As hecklers from the back in blue shirts screamed at him about not being “Heretic! Racist! Not a Christian!”

There was police present, as well as the strip mall complex security. Jacobs waited as the regular attendees of St. Jude’s began chanting “Alleluia! Alleluia! Love Wins!”

Moon nodded to him. Sean James and Beth Venus closed ranks around Jacobs, they knew this could turn sketchy, as he answered the question about Louie Regis. Beth spoke silently into her up turned denim collar so Speedster was aware. Kyla Storm, the Speedster was just on the outskirts of the crowd, her costume hid under a trench coat but ready if powers were needed. Venus stood by her promise to Jacobs, hate had to be defeated with hope, not super hero involvement.

“It’s always funny to get a press question during a church service.” Jacobs spoke again into the outdoor microphone. The regular congregants of St. Jude’s were alternative verses of Jesus Loves Me and Come in, Come in and Sit Down you are apart of the family. “I did not know retired Agent Louie Regis well. I knew of his reputation when the police came to tell me someone had assassinated him. I use that term, because folks need to understand murder/assassination are the same thing. Usually it is title or socio-economics that determine the word choice. Louie may never have made it above working class salary in-spite of his white collar look, but he served our Country. He retired due to Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, and should’ve been able to rest and heal.” Jacobs takes a sip from the McCafe coffee he had picked up on his way to the parking lot. His eyes scanning for anything that could be a long shot gun. The goon mobs of extremist party members were still trying to agitate, and he noted the attire of some known hate groups as well. He was happy to see that the police and security were starting to root, arrest and move along.

“Unfortunately the passion he put into protecting others, and being their pillar of strength he did not think himself worthy enough of. I hope the Governor General allows for a full honours funeral, and I pray this is a change in the national dialogue around trauma, mental health, addiction and violence so that we can truly become a nation that loves our neighbours, but also loves ourselves with the same love. Louie’s death is a reminder what happens when we only fulfill one part of the second Great Commandment, love of neighbour without honouring our own Imageo Dei. Now back to your regularly scheduled service.”

Melanie Moon opened a well worn New King James Bible, and reads to the gathered crowd:

34 But when the Pharisees heard that He had silenced the Sadducees, they gathered together. 35 Then one of them, a lawyer, asked Him a question, testing Him, and saying, 36 “Teacher, which is the great commandment in the law?”

37 Jesus said to him, “‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind.’ 38 This is the first and great commandment. 39 And the second is like it: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ 40 On these two commandments hang all the Law and the Prophets.”

She hands the microphone back to Jacobs. He finishes off his cup and deposits it in a recycle bin. “Anyone with a passing knowledge of the Hebrew Bible or Donnie Osmond Musicals (editors note for the youngsters: this is a Dad joke about Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, fyi, my daughter says her aunt does Dad jokes better). Knows we need to pay attention to dream work for sometimes it is simply our subconscious dealing with bull shit, other times it is a healthy place to release the hurt and pain. Sometimes it is where we learn…and on a very slim moment it can be a mystical experience.

I had one of those multi-coloured mystical moments. To the citizens of this province I want to let you know that our hero is not coming to pull us out of this quagmire of fear and hate. The original Bionic Knight is gone.”

Jacobs let that sink in, seeing some faces tear up, even the hecklers, bullies and aggressors in the audience were gob smacked.

“His name is Rick Saturn, his wife was our beloved mayor that vanished last year, Susan Kobwash. They have two amazing super heroes as children blessed to experience this life with Cerebral Palsy and Autism respectfully. They have joined the pocket verse between the multi-verses…” a few heart beats to let that sink in. “They are living their best life, as both Susan and Rick, and their kids shared with me, he has moved through the destruction wrecked by the a-typically cellularly ingrained Post Traumatic Stress Disorder into what is known as Post Traumatic Growth… or to a simple shit disturber like me, the path of Light renewal.”

A break out of singing old hymns from all around. Then the voices become more unified as they sing an old favourite of St. Jude’s, John Lennon’s Imagine . As the singing comes to a close, before he continues, Jacobs opens up for the Lord’s Prayer. As is the custom of his congregants, and to the beauty being sent out via the news. They do not pray in English, they may if that’s their language, but Latin is heard, Cree, Blackfoot, German, Russian, many African and Island dialects. For Jacobs he calls it the Pentecost moment of service, where the simple prayer is said and heard so all may hear it in their language.

“Saturn wants us to release our anger and hate. To grieve. Let the tears flow don’t hide behind toxic human beliefs. Feel. Love. He knows he can be in the next phase of life, for the hope is here already within each of us. The still small voice that speaks what is honest, good, and true. That which allows us to have compassion for ourselves and neighbour, and to truly know that the only way forward to a bright future is by embracing the beautiful Mosaic like is gathered here today.”

Venus and James watched the rabble rousers, the next part was the heading to the closer, and the benediction was going to be the tell.

“So my family, however you identify we are connected through the holy spark, that blessed breath that gave us life. Listen to the simple words of Jesus, Love your neighbour as yourself. It is how we show love for God. If anyone piece falls down, we are not truly living the sacrament of Holy Love…and then hate and fear win. So Love.”

Another break out of campfire hymn singing. As it quiets down, Jacobs picks up the bread “On the night he was betrayed, betrayed out of fear and hate for change, for the old ways dying away. For those oppressive powers and control authorities realizing they needed to release and let go and let come the new Holy Love. Jesus took bread and broke it. This is the bread of hope.” As if on cue lunch bags, snacks, you name it started coming out, and a potluck smorg was shared with all. It was St. Jude’s way. Communion was not just a simple piece of bread it was eating, like the feeding of the masses miracle. Jacobs handed the bread to Moon and James who let it out to the crowd, as well as the baskets of sandwiches.

He nodded to Beth Venus. The next part. “Then he took the cup, knowing that his blood was about to be spilled. That he was to lose his life for simply sharing the story of Holy Love and belonging. This is the cup of promise. Drink and be at the table together as family.” Beth got volunteers to begin rolling out coolers with juice, pop and water to share.

She noted tears in people’s eyes at the simple acts. Those in hate garb, some let it drop off as they made eye contact for the food. Simple, kindness.

“Go now in Holy Love of the Creator, the blessing of Brother Jesus, and the Family of the Holy Spirit. Go. Embrace. Simply say, I love you.”

The pop shattered the moment.


There is ancient Celtic myths around Leprechauns and their gold. Modern cerealogy tells us that luck is in charms. Meanwhile the sanitized celebration for a genocidal maniac, St. Patrick’s Day has us dying things green, and talking about chasing rainbows to their tails anchored in pots of gold.

Rainbows.

“I hate colour.” Lee Jacobs said. All he wanted was a deep sleep, the kind where you awake well rested and do not recall your dreams. What he got instead was  a mystical experience from a super-hero and a former mayor with their kids that many presumed missing, assumed dead.

“Mr. Jacobs, this is Camelot.” one of the children said. His mother hugged him and her sister close.

“What is left of Camelot. It is a pocketverse in the multi-verse.” Susan Kobwash said. Former mayor, adventurer with the Great Crime Fighters, and wife to Rick Saturn, the (original) Bionic Knight. “There is some literal truth in each myth or legend that goes with the eternal truth.”

Lee scratched his head, looking at the man in the golden armour, with the balding head. More salt that pepper in his beard as he locked tired eyes with Jacobs. What Lee had seen before entering the rainbow of the man with tremors was no more, just weary with some tears in his eyes. “Bionic Knight?”

“Not anymore. I hold the PenDragon magic, but Beth Venus is the new Bionic Knight of earth.” Rick said. Lee nodded, it already confirmed a heavy suspicion he had about the young lady, and gave him some pride that she had heard his words about battling hate without super powers that she would return to him in her secret identity to continue the fight. “I’m simply Rick.”

Lee nodded, as Rick and Susan went on to share what brought them to Camelot at the end of the Rainbow bridge. The piece of the multi-verse between all the other realms. What ancient philosophers, mystics and theologians had termed such as Hades, Purgatory or Limbo…a place of nowhere and everywhere all at once. They had been healing from the psychogenic non-epileptic seizures and chronic pain the decades of heroics had brought into Rick’s system as a result of his a-typical Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Susan and the kids had chosen to come to Camelot, much like the Fantastic Four was a family that shared adventures, so they chose to share adventures. Healing of all the traumas and vicarious traumas were on the board.

“So this is some mystical Big TOE type Post Traumatic Growth?” Lee said. (writer’s note: Big TOE is a metaphysical-quantum physics terminology for Big Theory of Everything).

(Also writer’s note Post Traumatic Growth, also known as PTG, is the phase of life after healing through PTSD where one can be known to come into a spiritual awakening).

Rick smirked.

“Yes, we are moving through the pain and the hurt to the new reality. The four of us are Camelot, and enjoying exploring all the other realities and the relationships that are we are coming into.” Susan said.

“Wait, you are Camelot?” Lee quizzled.

“Yes, the last of the PenDragon energy has allowed us to become Camelot that which was thought destroyed with my friend John MacCurtis when he stopped the evil alien god, Thor. We can slide through dimensions and universes using the Rainbow. We are finally home and at peace.” Rick said.

Lee got the hint behind it. Everyone kept talking about the “real” Bionic Knight returning to put things right. To save the world once more. Rick was closing that door, and he brought it to… “Why me?”

“Lee, I have grown up with you, seen what you do, and know people listen to you. Take the message home that we are no more, let the nation grieve and heal. Let them accept the new.” Rick said. He extended his hand. Lee shook it. “The Great Crime Fighters are yours. A new team, a new family if you will for old threats, but the wisdom beats in your heart.”

“Wait…I…”

The colours vanished.

The trailer’s laminate was all to real as Lee bounced his face off of it having fallen off the couch. Not really how he enjoyed mystical experiences ending, though it wasn’t like he had a lot of experience with them.

The sermon for Sunday was in his heart now. He clicked open his phone and dialed MLA Moon, here’s hoping with the election call looming she may still be able to swing a feed of the Sunday message to bring out the good grieving a country, a province, a city needed to embrace the new.

Meanwhile…

Louie Regis, former agent of Canada’s Supra Agency, who wrestles with his own typical PTSD that results in flashbacks, depression and anxiety spells. Today was a good day. He hadn’t had many before retirement, or since he had this feeling to track down MacKay to only discover his old friend dead, and a new batch of yahoos playing hero.

Regis finished what was left of his beer in the run down bar. His trusty snub nose .38 still in a shoulder holster under his rumpled suit. It was a controlled fire arm, and he was not supposed to be carrying it. But Louie had seen, and been involved with enough things to know the necessity of protection in a weird world.

Sliding from the stool, his worn loafers stuck a little to the pitty plank wood as he moved to the stain glass door and stepped out into the night air. Funny enough an avowed atheist, that he was off to church the next morning to hear what the big deal was with this Father Lee Jacobs, and the importance of rebuilding some parish always on financial life support (St. Jude’s).

The six beers were not sitting so well with him with the crisp night air, and light fog as he walked down the road to sleep it off in old hatch back. He had grown accustomed to sleeping in his agent days and as such when travelling never bothered with hotels or motels. Louie just cleaned up at truck stops.

“Loouiee!”

Regis turned to his name…

The arrow sliced through his left eye and out the back of this head sending brain and bone pieces…

 


A few episodes of Letterkenney, which for anyone that has ever existed in a small town the humour just ran deeper, then attempting to get comfortable on the couch as a breeze seeped in through the plywood covered window. More than likely some bullet holes had been missed from the craziness of a night ago. Jacobs could feel stress leaving his system as he silently recited the Serenity Prayer to calm his body.

Image result for serenity prayer

He then moved himself through a mindfulness of a body check in. Moving slowly through his muscles, seeking out the physical sensations which was easy– pain and weariness. The emotions that he was feeling of anger, grieving in sorrow and the thoughts.

Thoughts he had built walls around, because in the thoughts was the memories.

No one wanted to go through to the memories, it is how he had stayed sane throughout his life, and his loss of his lightning rod…Alexis and their bundle of joy. One day he would break through the walls, and deal with it.

Thankful sleep came… Jacobs eyes fluttered rapidly, he felt the room become bathed in rainbow light. Rainbows– the ancient myth from the Hebrew Bible after the Flood, YHWH placed the bow in the sky to promise not to destroy us all again.

Yet today here was the bow inside his trailer. Not his trailer the dead man’s, MacKay, Regis had pointed out that he had been a redeemed supra hitman that had lost a child. Talk about a cursed trailer to move in once the haters had bombed St. Jude’s, the spiritual community for the lost causes.

The bearded man was back. The rainbows flashed across Jacobs face. Something so familiar. Norse myths run through his mind, the Rainbow Bridge connecting realms…

Those brown eyes. The scars, the salty beard. A tremor in the left arm. His golden armour, yet dulled.

“Bionic Knight?” It’s a question, it should’ve been a statement.

The face speaks again…”Camelot”

As the trailer explodes in rainbow light…


Lee groaned slightly as he shifted against the tombstone. The morning was damp. It had been a bit since his last visit. The fire-bombing of St. Jude’s, dealing with Insurance Companies and their scams, working with contractors, and keeping the little parish that could against all odds afloat at the MLA donated office space had taken up his time.

Though not as much as the crazy at his first night, when all he wanted was sleep. Now the window has plywood up, and… “Yup Lexie, my landlord is a Supra. Think she’s the legacy super hero known as Speedster. She didn’t reveal my identity, but it tracks when the skinheads hit. The old man took some shots, I got grazed in the shoulder.” He could feel his wife’s scorn and the playful punch to his wound. That’s just how they rolled, Lexie constantly warning him to quit stirring the pot, with her smirk and giggle.

“Crazy, so it’s a trailer that was owned by Shotgun MacKay, he suicided, before that it belonged to that weirdo Zed we always read about in the online self-help stuff. The kid, Beth Venus set me up with it, still have no clue how she fits in. The old Asian guy is a former agent in this weird world, goes by the name Louie Regis he’s pushing eighty or something and has been having visions.” Lee pauses in his tale. Did he have to tell her of the coloured sights of the family and the voices? Or did she know? What was Camelot anyways?

“Even though Speedster is supposed to be as fast as sound, Mel and Sean beat her to the punch in his old truck, and they both can swing mean baseball bats. Six gun men all together taken down, none speaking about why they hit.” Lee couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought of MLA Moon swinging a bat in her jeans and hoody with retired Constable Sean James.

“Almost created one of those goofy comic book moments of a new team coming together, all looking the same way and smiling. Instead a lot of sirens, police and EMS.” Jacobs rubbed the back of his head. He was still fatigued and tired. Just needed time to relax and sleep, before that some coffee and to check in with Moon that it was still a go for tomorrow at her office for church.

“Thanks for listening babe, if you hear of anything about Camelot let me know.”

Jacobs pushed himself up slowly, crossed himself and blew a kiss to the tombstone beofre walking away.

Louie Regis let his black ray bans slide down as he watched the minister walk out of the grave yard. Jacobs nods, as the lanky graying Asian comes into step with him, his black rumpled suit seeming at odds with Jacobs jeans, hiking boots, zipper hoody, and plaid jacket. “Why so grumpy, Louie?”

Regis chuckled. “Thought I was done with all this crap, and then bam. People’s new sense of self-entitlement and selfishness is harming the world as a whole. Inability to think outside themselves in actions. Re-education being used to indoctrinate into new cult and terror groups like anti-vaxxers, alt-right, f’ing Nazis…”

“Miss the days of the universe attacking super villain huh?”

“Life was simple then Father Jacobs, it was easy to spot the villain, and easier to silence the idiot.”

“Bloody social media.” Jacobs said.

“And the lack of critical thinking, with anyone able to post an opinion like it is gospel truth. So where do we begin?” Regis replies.

Jacobs scratches his beard, a bit fuller than he would like, but it has been a roller coaster ride for sometime. “First, I check in with Ms. Moon to ensure my parish has a place of worship tomorrow.” Shepherd first he thinks to himself, adventuring wanna be hero later. “Then, what do you know about something called Camelot?”