WHO Judas and Friar Tuck WHEN Tuesday evening WHERE Tuck’s church WHAT God loves a trier WARNINGS tbd
There was absolutely no fucking way in a thousand fiery hells that Judas was going back to St Margaret’s now that he’d seen Sloth there. The thought of having seen that creature made him shudder. What was it with them? Lust going after Mary, and now Sloth following him- it was unnerving, and he wondered if there was a bigger pattern at work.
St Margaret’s hadn’t been a good fit for him anyway. He didn’t know why he chose a Catholic place of worship to go to. Well, okay, yes he did know. It was because he knew he would be made to feel guilty and horrible, and he was going to try to use that to rise above. Except this week the entire sermon had been about betrayal, and repeated use of his name, and at the end he’d seen the organist slip out the back in tears.
He couldn’t handle it, was what he was saying. When it came down to it, when he was tested, he couldn’t handle how bleak and cursed he felt afterwards, completely wrung out and miserable. And the guilt. Nobody did guilt like the Catholics.
So, instead of suffering through another grinding sermon from a Catholic who was determined to see every one of his parishioners writhe in torment in their pews, let alone in the pits of Hell, he decided that maybe he would try something a little more… forgiving.
Friar Tuck’s church was a lot smaller and shabbier than St Margaret’s. He frowned at it, wondering just where the money he’d donated had gone to, because the place could use a little more love. Unless he wanted to get cheesy, that is (and he didn’t), because the warm glow from inside and the smiling people heading in for the service and the Pride flags displayed prominently all definitely pointed at the “God Is Love” message. So, very not Catholic.
He found a seat in the church, shuffling along to make room when a couple and their kids came in after him, and slouched down so the Friar wouldn’t see him. Wooden pews weren’t really made for slouching, but there was something homely and handmade about these ones, and he really had to fight the urge to be disgusted at it and just leave altogether. His eyes wandered around the room as the service progressed, taking in the side room with the kitchen attached, and the pinboard which displayed community activities on it, and the fundraising thermometer about three quarters coloured in. He stood when he was supposed to stand and mouthed the words when he was supposed to sing, going through the motions for God’s Love. Maybe he should stick with the hellish Catholics. Somehow the stick felt like it worked better than the carrot.
He was planning on trying to slip out with the crowd afterwards, but people just didn’t seem like they wanted to leave. Smaller groups gathered to chat and exchange news, and Judas could see that Tuck was moving among them with that- ugh- beatific smile on his face. Shit, he had to go. Quietly, craftily, he sidled towards the exit.