Liturgy for a Car Parked on the Pavement

 

Beaker Folk encircle the car parked on the pavement.

Archdruid: Let us judge not, lest we be judged.

All: But let's face it, it's pretty tempting, innit?

Archdruid: Shall we risk walking out into the road to get round this selfish get?

All: Though the traffic is heavy and two of us have baby buggies.

Archdruid: For wide is the road that leads to destruction.

All: But it's a sensible place to park.

Archdruid: And narrow is the path that leads to salvation.

All: And that twerp in the Fiat isn't making life any better.

 

All may lay their right index fingers on the car.

Archdruid: Can you feel the selfishness?

All: It flows along our arms, like unto the water that runs down Mount Hermon.

Archdruid: Can you feel the stupid?

All: It burns! It burns!

All may remove their right index fingers.

Archdruid: Let us give the car a blessing, in the hope that the blessing will pass to the driver.

Beaker-bearers lift their beakers

Charlii: I pour out the Beaker of Grape Juice for fruitfulness.

Young Keith: I pour our the Beaker of Honey for sweetness.

Hnaef: I pour out the Beaker of Grease, for smoother starting in cold weather.

Burton: I pour out the Beaker of Milk, for youthful reactions.

Stacey: I pour out the Beaker of Tripe, for this bloke's judgement.

Kylie: I apply the Beaker of Fermented Fish Intestines, for better eyesight.

Kayleigh: And I apply the Half-eaten Kebab of Completing the Exercise.

Driver: Oi! What you doin' to my car?

Departing Blessing:

Archdruid: Quick! Scarper!