From: Millie Loomis, self-appointed ward media and culture critic
Subject: Ex-Mormons desecrate Utah Pioneer Day
Like most students of history, I consider July 24 to be a pivotal date in human history. After all, it's the day that the Mormons rode into the Salt Lake Valley to establish our kingdom. That makes it the Fourth of July, Veterans Day, and Christmas rolled into one. So when I heard that the ex-Mormons were gathering to mock our founding fathers on their sacred day, I decided to sneak into the party and expose them as the pathetic low-lifes they've become.
Last Saturday afternoon I disguised myself as an ex-Mormon and drove to a seedy bar in San Francisco called the Hotel Utah Saloon.
I parked and rushed for the door, clutching my handbag close and ignoring strange looks from the San Francisco non-member community. Once inside, I found myself surrounded not only by ex-Mormons, but also by some of my fellow LDS singles, who seemed to think that this was their new Stake Single Adults' Program.
I made a mental note to report them to the bishop, then moved across the room, only to see former Stake President Taylor wearing a plaid shirt, and nursing a suspicious beverage labeled, O'Doul's.
He shot me a look and said, "Millie, will you go home and take off that ridiculous get-up?!"
"Pardonee moi, who eez Millie?" I replied. (Fortunately, I have a convincing French accent thanks to my recent See Zion First tour of Paris.)
He grabbed my arm in an ungentleman-like manner and pulled me toward the door. I shut my eyes and prayed for divine help. In an instance, my saviors appeared.
I was surprised at first. In the past, I'd encountered the Three Nephites only one at a time, and out of uniform. However, as the evening progressed, I understood why they united their forces. It was to be a night filled with some of the worst debauchery ever witnessed. I managed to capture some of it on film.
EXTREME CAUTION ADVISED!
The loud laughter increased, so much so, that even the Three Nephites combined were unable to shield my modest ears. My hands began to shake, and I feared the onset of a panic attack. They sent for the lesser known Mini-Nephite, who is distinguished by his immense spiritual strength.
He gave me a grapefruit infused serum. Right away the laughter seemed less offensive. Indeed, after a few more doses, I could barely hear it. From there my memory is sketchy. I remember President Taylor playing poker with the Single Adults and the Nephites performing an unusual rendition of the BYU Fight Song.
Finally I crawled up on the bar for a nap. It was surprisingly comfortable. Only I was rudely ripped from my sleep by former Stake President Taylor who muttered some inaudible complaint that ended in "you daft cow," threw me over his shoulder, and dumped me into the back seat of his car. I awoke the next morning on the chaise in my back yard. I assume it was Taylor who left me there. I can only hope he didn't have his way with me.
As my head cleared, I recalled one more thing I learned last Saturday.
The Hotel Utah is for sale!
That's right, brothers and sisters, with a little joint fund-raising, and the help of the Stake Public Affairs Counsel, we can bring down an evil ex-Mormon institution and replace it with something beautiful and inspiring. Like a temple where church members can perform traditional marriages. Alongside it, a visitor's center that features a genealogy library, a stage for musical revues by super-cool groups like the Young Ambassadors, and a theater for reenactments of church history performed by incredibly realistic looking automatons. Instead of a magnet for ex-Mormon low-lifes, the Hotel Utah could be a gathering place, where San Franciscans could relax and mingle, without cigarettes, alcohol, or caffeine, of course.
In short, a little bit of Paris.
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