Rev. Dick, (revdick2000)
Formerly a powerful opponent of Dan, this broken man now spends his days scrubbing a toilet
(Rev. Dick talks to a psychiatrist hired for him by his nephew, Dick Jr.) My nephew has insisted I see you, because he thinks I am a complete lunatic. He just doesn't understand what I've been through with COD the Cult of Dan. Please, let me explain.
When I first discovered COD, I was convinced that Dan was a dangerous and mentally ill man. Here was a man who was drugging, brainwashing and abusing hundreds of people, and encouraging them to engage in orgiastic pagan rites in a vat of jello. I decided that someone had to put a stop to Dan, so I opened COD Deliverance Ministries, and began offering free cult-deprogramming and Bible study to Dan's victims.
I was joined by Dan's arch-enemy Binky the evil elf, and by Betsy, Dan's talking goat, who appeared to have temporarily turned against her master. Yes, that's right doctor, I DID say "evil elf" and "talking goat". I should explain that, up to this point, I had always firmly believed that "Binky", "Betsy" and "TOS" were merely characters Dan played to delude his followers, and that Dan played Betsy while dressed in a goat-suit. But after Betsy had lovingly explained that situation to me over several cups of a delicious coffee-beverage they have called happa-blappa-frappacino, I realized that I had been completely wrong. Betsy actually WAS a real talking goat.
Over a week, and many more cups of that wonderful beverage, Betsy won my absolute trust. Soon, I was suckling myself to sleep at her udders every night, and willingly handing over control of my ministry and bank account to her. I'm not proud of what I did�but I'm sure I'm not the first fundamentalist preacher to have been betrayed into an indiscretion by the wiles of a sweet-talking goat. But my trust was misplaced. Betsy wiped out my club, drained my life's savings into the bulging COD coffers, and left me a ruined man. Dan then handed me over to Binky (who I had previously thought was Dan kneeling on a pair of sneakers, but who turned out to be a very real evil elf), and condemned me to scrub a toilet for him, without a brush, for all eternity.
Low self-esteem? No, doctor, I do NOT scrub a toilet because I suffer from low self-esteem! I scrub because if I didn't, I would be killed by a squad of stealth baboons, or by a monster that is a cross between Don King, Julie Andrews and Judy Garland! Under those conditions, ANY sane person would scrub a toilet.
And despite being condemned to endless torment, I did once manage to get the better of Dan. When he was impersonating a drone called "Quivering Monkey Pudding", and attempting to take over two rival organizations called the Cult of New God of Anti-COD and the Donkey Mafia, I figured out the scam he was trying to pull. So I grabbed QMP's regular sex-partner, who was an inflatable Rush Limbaugh doll and escaped to Vermont, where I had the two of them legally married. As a result, the doll became QMP's legal partner, and Dan was forced to hand over his power at those two clubs to an inflatable sex-toy. I was rather proud of that. Are you following this, doctor? You seem to be taking a LOT of notes.
My nephew keeps insisting that somehow Dan managed to drug me, hypnotize me, and crush my frail psyche to jelly. Despite all the evidence, he REFUSES to accept that Dan is an unbelievably powerful being who can do anything he wants to me. I learned that the hard way. I keep begging my nephew to stop his attack on COD, before he ends up like me, but the poor fool just won't listen to reason. I know there's no hope for me: I have to scrub a toilet forever, because Dan says so. But could you possibly have a talk with him? I worry about the poor boy.
Well, doctor, I hope I have managed to clear up the situation. If you'll excuse me, I really should be going. I've had my hands out of this toilet bowl for a full ten minutes now, and if Binky the evil elf catches me, he is likely to smack me in the mouth with a tuba. I'm sure you understand.
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