·1 mole, smoked with incense

·1 mole, whose sins have been washed away

·1 mummified mole, disinterred from the altar of an ancient church, after cohabiting, for eight centuries, with the finger bones of three medieval saints

·1 small family of moles, extracted from hallowed ground: 1 male mole + 1 female mole (just as it was meant to be), and their quadruplet children–four of them, yes, all at once, which their mother–despite a full awareness of the likely hardships–pointedly did not abort.

·7 moles, flooded out, via a great surge of sanctified water, after having made a g’d-mn’d mess of the papal lawn.

Wrap, burrito-like, in the Shroud of Turin.

Heat, by turns, with:

     ·the all-encompassing warmth of God’s love–there is nothing warmer

     ·the flames of God’s Hell–there is nothing warmer

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