C/O Hotel Fontainbleau – Penthouse Suite, Miami Beach, FL
Remember that time during the Deity Club Croquet Tournament when I had your ball set up for a Roquet that would have meant an almost certain Sextuple Peel for Me? Remember how, contrary to Club Rules, You promised Me a miracle for use at a later date if I would Roquet someone else? Well, I’m calling in that miracle.
But don’t misunderstand Me. I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t have the utmost respect for You. I’m sure You’ve noticed that I’ve always taken Your advice re My brand-loyalists. You are, and I’m not just saying this to be a kiss-ass, everything a deity could hope to aspire to. I mean, by sheer number of brand-loyalists – which, after all, is how the game is scored – You knock the pants off the rest of Us. Right now, I feel like jumping up and down on the couch and screaming, “I love Gawd! I love Gawd!”
You are, just to be clear, My greatest role model. I don’t want to sound like a twelve-year-old OT I with a Cruise Crush, but I’ve modelled My entire career on You. You know how You gave Your Chosen People plagues, pogroms and holocausts? I went right out and stacked Mine around volcanoes and dropped nuclear bombs on them. You know how You made one of Your boys get crucified for His initiation? I made Tom Cruise appear on Oprah and John Travolta in Battlefield Earth. You are, as they used to say in the Galactic Confederacy, the dog’s bollocks.
So You’ll understand why I’ve come to You with this problem I can’t handle Myself. In a word – it’s the French. They’re trying to freeze Me out. They’ve charged My Paris cash machine with organized fraud and dispensing drugs without a clue license. They’re saying that there’s no science in Scientology. In fact, that the Mark Super VII Quantum™ E–Meter® Pastoral Counseling Device, (Available at the FLAG Bookstore for a low, low $4,000), is nothing but a couple of phallic substitutes and a battery!
This is a time for all good deities to come to the aid of Their meal tickets. You don’t want to be saying in a few years, “First they came for the Scientologists and I did nothing, for I wasn’t Xenu…” What about Lourdes, eh? If We let the Cruise-damned French kick My brand-loyalists out of the country for a little low-grade fraud, what do You think they’ll do about Your little operation there? So I’m asking You to loan a few of Your delusional miracle-witnessing brand-loyalists from Lourdes to Me purely on a temporary basis. Perhaps Kirstie Alley could come to them in a dream or something. I’ll leave the details up to You… or, oh! I know! A weeping Travolta statue would be perfect! I’ll attach a mock-up of the sort of thing I mean.
I await Your reply with sincerest excitement and promise that I won’t have to ask for any more miracles once Tom goes OT VIII and can kill with a thought.
Yrs Galactically, &tc.,