WHO SAID YOU CAN'T GO HOME AGAIN?

Pack your bags and get away! / If you spend every cent, you can move out in a tent—/ It's movin' day! Charlie Poole

For those of you who missed the announcement two weeks ago about Big Don's ignominious loss of the Arizona chapel, we'll recap what we know. It's the outcome PL's been dreaming about for many years: at last, the substantial assets of the chapel are safe.

Tradzilla has tried long and hard to take over the place. As you may recall, way back in 2011, after his big $30K plan fizzled, Big Don boasted in a pesthouse newsletter,  “we are very hopeful and confident that our relationship to [Our Lady of the Sun Chapel, Arizona] will become permanent.”

With the assistance of Divine Providence, a vigilant lay board thwarted the Donster's plot. In spite of the definitive rebuff, he continued to play the hireling, doubtlessly in order to (1) keep his foot in the door, hoping perhaps to work surreptitiously to get his way, and (2) not lose needed revenue from staffing the chapel.  Over the years he never gave up, notwithstanding his inveterate hostility toward lay trusteeship. At length, all that his scheming earned him was an eviction notice. The grim priory princesses along with his so-called priest — "ordained" BTW by "One-Hand Dan"!! — should be skulking back like unwanted foundlings to the fetid Swampland compound by the end of June 2017.

With Tradzilla's exit, the CMRI will, according to a 2/17/17 letter from the Pivster, "have complete responsibility in all spiritual matters and the lay board for the temporal  affairs of the parish [sic]." Pivvy's missive interestingly reveals that CMRI "sisters" will operate the chapel's school. In addition, sources tell us, the board distributed an information sheet to explain the transition. Under the new arrangement, the chapel will have a valid "priest" who speaks intelligible English. One immediate benefit of the deal is the laity won't have to strain their ears and scratch their heads during the Sunday sermon. (Plus they'll have fewer doubts about the validity of the sacraments they receive.)

Although this turn of events is joyous news, we dare not think Our Lady of the Sun is out of the crosshairs yet. Between now and June, a lot of undermining can be done. In fact, according to the scuttlebutt, the cult's minions are already hard at work. That's to be expected. Tradzilla, ever the bad winner and even sorer loser, most likely won't go meekly. It's a wounded beast's nature to bite back with savage fury. While his ego may only chafe at the pink slip, the prospect of never being able to control the chapel's considerable assets must be the source of unbearable anguish. You may not realize it, but a lot more than bragging rights was riding on a takeover.

PL expects there'll be an underground campaign to discourage chapel members from sending their children to the school or assisting at Mass. In concert with that effort, certain families will be pressured to pull up stakes and relocate to the Swampland. (They've already managed to dupe one deluded household into moving: like most traddies, the family will have to learn the hard way.) All in all, though, any sabotage attempt will have little impact.

The board is certainly aware of what's going on and is sure to take pre-emptive action to counter the Donster's ploys. (Tip: the Toady cannot endure direct confrontation — he'll fold like a discount-store card table if squeezed between Big Don and resolute board leadership.) Moreover, the chapel has a nice financial cushion to weather any dip in weekly collections until participation levels return to normal. Who knows? They may well increase. As a matter of fact, PL is sure they will.

For that reason, the sole unknown arising from Big Don's ouster has nothing to do with Arizona. (The board's been through worse and managed to survive quite well, thank you.) What we really should be asking ourselves is how this development will impact Junior's consecration. Without fresh cash streams, PL doesn't see a way for Tradzilla to exit Brooksville so he can devote himself to his next adventure (er, uh, ahem, "apostolate," we meant to say). Heretofore, all our speculation had assumed he'd be slithering out of the swamp since two "bishops" in one tiny, family-run cult would be like two paramount chiefs in the same savage tribe: one of 'em's gottta go.

Yet, at the same time, we have to wonder whether Junior or his pop will brook a delay of birthright. Born in 1978, the Kid will turn 39 this year. That's nine long years after the Anointed One reached the canonical age for the episcopacy. The insignificant Long-Island Jellyfish and the much-disparaged Pivmeister wrangled miters in their early thirties, while "One-Hand Dan" captured his at 42. Will the Kid have to wait like Big Don until his fifties before his noggin's "armed with the horns of both Testaments"? In other words, will he always be a bridesmaid and never a bride?

We don't think so!

Junior's family's sunk too much money into the Swampland sect to wait much longer for their scion to fulfill his destiny. He's more than ready to run the whole show, including the "seminary" (LOL).  There's already been loose talk that "he won't be a [simple] priest for much longer." More significantly, the Big 3 élite are eager to get out of the spotlight, get back on social media, and get those TV's into the air-conditioned house where they belong — flickering away in front of the La-Z-Boy throughout Brooksville's humid subtropical nights.

The Arizona failure has been a huge embarrassment anyway. We've been told Big Don was strongly cautioned against venturing out West in the first place. With this loss of face, there's no reason to keep the Donster around any longer, particularly since keeping him means taking delivery on all Dannie's baggage. (Bad for the corporate image, you understand.)

Say what you will about the Big 3, but they are experienced businessmen. The time's right to cut their losses and get out of a bad investment. Easing the decision will be the comforting assurance of having on hand an immediate replacement for the Donster —one of their own, not a breathless Flushing Rat driven from the salubrious desert back home to the steaming swamp, with his whacked tail quivering between his buckling knees.