Three Nephites Sighted in Lafayette, California

To: Abbottsville Fourth Ward
From: Brother Sid Dooley, ward spiritual giant
Subject: Saturday night's visit to the Celestial Room

Last Saturday on my way to the temple, my car broke down on the seedy side of Lafayette. The nearest establishment happened to be a saloon called "The Roundup." Hardly holy ground. However, after a quick prayer, the spirit bade me to enter.

I was met by two personages. My spiritual eyes quickly discerned that they were two of The Three Nephites.

"Brothers Nephite!" I exclaimed. "Are you here to help me get to the temple?"

"We are," Nephite #1 replied. "But first you must drink from this glass, in order to quench your thirst and increase your spiritual knowledge."

As I drank deeply from the cup, I felt a tingling warmth consume my being. Nephite #1 gazed down at me, his eyes bore into my soul.

"Show me the First Sign of the Melchizedek Priesthood," he said.

I obeyed.

"Now show me the token."

I again obeyed.

"Now take this pencil."

He released me from his gaze.

"Come with us to the next session," said Nephite #3.

I followed them to a portal at the back of the saloon. In an instant we were swept up in a swirling gust, jolted through space and time, then dropped down to a lively dinner party. I looked around at my fellow guests. Their joyful demeanor, advanced knowledge of Mormon doctrine and history, as well as their casual attitude toward the General Authorities confirmed what I had already suspected. I had passed through the veil to the other side, and was now in the presence of celestial beings.

In the moments that followed I learned more than I had in over a thousand hours of church meetings. For example:

Grapefruit infused vodka has a number of medicinal qualities.

Boyd K. Packer deserves a Facebook campaign backing him to host SNL.

The paper back version of The Miracle of Forgiveness is remarkably aerodynamic, and the hardback makes a great hockey puck.

Brethren who are excommunicated may return their priesthood keys by dropping them in any nearby mailbox.

The Three Nephites regularly hang out at The Roundup Saloon.

Temple garments are more effectively disposed of if they are doused with copious amounts of Bombay gin before igniting.  

People with small hands have big testimonies.*


*I have this on the good authority of the lesser known and grossly underrated "Mini-Nephite."

--And all of this was revealed before our starters had arrived. Then Nephite #2 showed up and the party really kicked into gear.

(Nephite #2 was late due to an emergency at a ward fashion show.)

We testified, prophesied, and toasted the Lord's anointed over a meal fit for priests and priestesses. Then when the session concluded, I was whisked home in a winged chariot disguised as a vintage 1960 Chrysler. 

I've no memory of the trip home, I can't find my doggie bag of leftovers, likewise my signature stein from The Roundup Saloon, and I have somehow lost my garments. Nothing remains of my heavenly visit. Except for the pencil.

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