From “The Private Diary of Bishop F. Atticus McButterpants” – 07-12-25 – Lunch with Fr. Tommy

Dear Diary,

A week since Fr Tommy and private eye and the whole Patsy “thing”. “Thing” hah! “Things” is mostly quiet now. Still jumpy. Not sleeping well. No new threats today. That’s a win.

I havnt written yet about what went on.

Fr. Tommy. He pulled my fat HAH! from the fire. I’m determined to reward him. I started by inviting him to a special private lunch – I called ahead for the good stuff – at that ribs shack out on 38. He used to like it.  I ordered the “Bishop’s Platter”. They openly says it’s named after me. I don’t deny it. It’s not all YOU can eat, but I sure can!  All about me? Hah!  Ribs and pulled and brisket, that cornbread which can make even Dozer cry, and a vinegar slaw tempts the dead to rise. Tommy was pretty quiet.  Cassock too.  Making a point.  Silence. Dissected a brisket sandwich.  I’ve known T a long time and what he did for me back there was … I was worried.  At one point he murmured “Do you think we’ll ever get back to normal?” I laughed and told him, “Tommy, normal in Libville? Trick question?” I offered him the last rib. He declined but he perked up. Chester didn’t refuse.  I’m pretty sure the waitress called him “your eminence.” She wasn’t talking to me.  Tommy?  Contrary to what you see, it’s like I’m becoming invisible these days.  Anyway, he pulled himself out if his mood and engaged talking about some liturgy and sanctuary changes at his parish he was making as if I weren’t the boss of him.

Fr Gilbert drove me and Tommy.  G might not be the fullest lumpia on the platter but he sat apart near the car.  He’s a good one and his mom makes great lumpia.   I see what I did there.  HAH!

Speaking of boss.  Chester. Damn.  He thinks he earned a promotion. He’s taken to sitting in my desk chair like he’s the bishop now. And he won’t get out unless someone opens the fridge in the common area down the hall.  He stole most of my breakfast today too.  Right up on the table!!  I guess he thinks he owns tables now.  I locked the door and  made more.  And one of my rings is missing.  I don’t want to know … or look for it.

Chancery – everything’s normal on the surface. It doesnt feel right. Dunno.  Fr Gilbert keeps smiling n missing his off ramps n walking C like nothing happened.

The oddballs in the the tribune canon law office are said to be spending more time together.  Should I do something?  Is that a thing?  Even paranormals have enemies.  The VG’s got no clue.  I should make some changes but.. at this point?

I’m tired. I’m turning in early. I might make a cup of that calomine Mrs K talks about. We’ll see what tomorrow brings.

Idea: New Pope now.  Monsignor Tommy?  He needs more than lunch with me even if that’s a LOT HAH!