Raptus Regaliter

My parents live over the road from a Catholic Church, which at one time, was presided over by a rather eccentric young priest.  We'll call him father Mc.  I can't help but think that Father Mc was a blueprint for the sort of priests that showed up in "Father Ted".  Father Mc was a bit keen, had a bit of money and fancied himself in shorts.  He often used to receive visits from a rather glamorous nun who drove an Escort XR3i, whom we nicknamed "Sister Mary of the Divine Rally".  Father Mc often spent a lot on "improvements" to the Rectory.  At any one time, at least 60% of all Catholic builders in the town were working on the Rectory.  One of Father Mc's successors once showed my father the improvements that had been made: never mind en-suite bathrooms - they had installed en-suite kitchens.  There were so many of them, you'd think he was planning on personally feeding the 5000.   Another of the improvements was a life-size statue of Joseph, which was installed on one of the lower roofs of the building, in such a manner that it looked directly into my parent's bedroom - presumably to ruin the heathen Methodist's sex life, although I'm not too keen on finding out whether it did or not.

Like most Priests, there was an official ceremony to "install" Father Mc in the Church.  Perhaps that's where he got the idea for the kitchens, being a bit keen on installation himself.  Anyway, this lead to the arrival of various members of the Catholic Church, including, I believe, the Bishop of Birmingham himself, all in big cars.  The party afterward must have been a "Bring a Bottle" party, because they certainly did.  Several of them brought crates.  I reckon about a week's worth of Tullamore Dew's production walked in there.

The installation got underway, and, after a while, all the Priests appeared in their finest robes, and solemnly walked around the grounds, waving those things that they burn incense in.  They solemnly visited all four corners of the ground, and the installation was complete.  We know the installation was complete because they then ran, hell-for-leather, back to the Rectory, ripping their vestments off as they ran.

Then the Party began, and didn't stop till three in the morning, with next day a work day, which meant that there were more than a few phone calls from non-participatory locals complaining about the noise.  We guessed this because at about 2am in the morning, Father Mc, somewhat the worse for wear, came out and stood, with assistance from a convenient lamp-post, and berated the locals (ie us) with the sort of language you don't normally expect from a Priest (with the possible exception of Father Jack).  Something along the lines escaped his mouth about "taking you on with one hand behind his back".  It was then, apparently, that my father appeared at his bedroom window, and very slowly and deliberately got dressed. 

Father Mc, seeing the error of his ways, made a tactical withdrawl.  You could see the brown marks on the pavement for weeks afterward.