Gunnland
FTR
Capitoline City, Tibur. Keep out of the way, or the workmen will bump into you. They are removing the priceless Renaissance paintings from the walls of the Capitoline City's many buildings, for fear of a Solaris attack. You have been wondering, I'm sure, why the august and respectable camerlengo tolerates the overblown Oswald Cardinal Millbank or the lecherous Gaspar Cardinal Puopolo. Well, truth is that Cardinal Von Haaksbergen shares a terrible secret with them. It all began last November, a week after Pope Stephanus angered the conservative cardinals with his pastoral letter to Eiffelland condoning homosexual intercourse...
"Has the deed been done?" croaked Middelhuis reedily, pale as a marble statue. The camerlengo was obviously trying to ignore the completely nude brunette girl, perhaps nineteen, holding the towel for Cardinal Puopolo to wipe his face. Middelhuis was not pleased to appear before the younger cardinal in the bathtub, either, even if his oversize gut covered his penis amply. Even if the Vangalan sandalwood soap did have a pleasant aroma.
"Zenobia! My statue of living stone," smiled Gaspar, chuckling. "She is a girl at least, right?" Seeing the camerlengo's serious look, Gaspar's face soured. "Please, Middelhuis! Where's the nerve you had last week? Remember that the Eiffelland letter is a capitulation to the secular liberals? Remember! A betrayal of seven centuries of Catholic sexual ethics? Remember Stephanus must be pushed aside, and all of the Dominici with him? Remember that!" Taken aback, Middelhuis stretched his closed eyes with his eyebrows and stiffened his neck. "I don't want to be here any longer than I need to be, Gaspar. Unlike you, I find this whole business repugnant. Now tell me, what happened with Joannes Cardinal Von Grass?"
A cruel smile curled over Cardinal Puopolo's lips as he stood up slowly, his corpulent frame dripping as his maidservant rushed to dry beneath his armpits. "Didn't Oswald tell you? No? Let us say then, Middelhuis, that the Wieser Cardinal Secretary has drunk the liquor of succession."
"The Holy Father is far healthier, but a similar dose should confine him to bedrest for several months, at least. Time enough."
Last November.
"Has the deed been done?" croaked Middelhuis reedily, pale as a marble statue. The camerlengo was obviously trying to ignore the completely nude brunette girl, perhaps nineteen, holding the towel for Cardinal Puopolo to wipe his face. Middelhuis was not pleased to appear before the younger cardinal in the bathtub, either, even if his oversize gut covered his penis amply. Even if the Vangalan sandalwood soap did have a pleasant aroma.
"Zenobia! My statue of living stone," smiled Gaspar, chuckling. "She is a girl at least, right?" Seeing the camerlengo's serious look, Gaspar's face soured. "Please, Middelhuis! Where's the nerve you had last week? Remember that the Eiffelland letter is a capitulation to the secular liberals? Remember! A betrayal of seven centuries of Catholic sexual ethics? Remember Stephanus must be pushed aside, and all of the Dominici with him? Remember that!" Taken aback, Middelhuis stretched his closed eyes with his eyebrows and stiffened his neck. "I don't want to be here any longer than I need to be, Gaspar. Unlike you, I find this whole business repugnant. Now tell me, what happened with Joannes Cardinal Von Grass?"
A cruel smile curled over Cardinal Puopolo's lips as he stood up slowly, his corpulent frame dripping as his maidservant rushed to dry beneath his armpits. "Didn't Oswald tell you? No? Let us say then, Middelhuis, that the Wieser Cardinal Secretary has drunk the liquor of succession."
"The Holy Father is far healthier, but a similar dose should confine him to bedrest for several months, at least. Time enough."