I hesitate to make claims like, "God favors me," but I will say this: God favors me.
How do I know? Because just yesterday I was sent a message from the gods, a message falling from the sky like an eagle screwing another eagle, or a flying rock that has suddenly fallen asleep mid-flight.
This message took the form of a mighty bird of prey, possible a sharp-shinned hawk, or, more possibly, a peregrine falcon! See? Can you feel the touch of the divine here?
Anyhow, I was out for a walk with my brother's dog, Laser, when from high above there came such a screeching and a cawing. Suddenly there was a mass of beak and feather on the sidewalk in front of me - a mighty falcon surrounded by lesser birds. The falcon and I shared a look of such intensity that, though it lasted only for a moment, volumes of wisdom were communicated. Which volumes? The Egyptian Book of The Dead, and the weirdo children's classic "The Neverending Story."
The short version of this was, basically: "Dandy, name the Childlike Empress, and save Fantasia from the Nothingness!"
Sometimes we call St. Paul "Fantasia."
And then the falcon took to wing once again, pursued by the garbage-birds (among them was a blue jay, the enemy of divine messages).
Can you help me? Can you save Fantasia before it's too late? June 27th is too late. Name the Childlike Empress. Name her (or, possibly, him) Pussywillow!
Oh, also, I looked into it, and I'm pretty sure the god in question is Horus.