“Your book’s precious conjecture that Jesus wasn’t crucified, that he had children with Mary, then moved to France and thus became a royal blood lineage that exists to this day… It all serves tyranny well. What better way to perpetuate the unworthy kingdoms of inbreds than to fool the world into believing the royal families of Europe are direct descendants of Jesus of Nazareth?”

Exclusive Excerpts from upcoming sequel

The Mystery of the Holy Grail, Salad Tongs, Gravy-boat and Pepper Grinder

The Holy Grail. It was the cup Christ used at the Last Supper. But some biblical scholars now believe the mystery of the Holy Grail cannot be solved without the three missing utensils that made this Last Supper complete: the Holy Salad Tongs, the Holy Gravyboat, and the H oly Pepper Grinder. It was all hidden from Unworthy Man for thousands of years, until now…

SYNOPSIS: The Holy Salad Tongs are a code concealed for centuries by a lineage of Druid and apostate Templar masons hungry to discredit Judaism and Christianity. Among them is a powerful alien publisher, The Reptilian, who hypes Brown Daniels, a mediocre writer that shares his anti-Semitic and anti-Christian beliefs. Daniels is a neo-Wiccan Amway salesman whom argues Judaism and Christianity are based on a massive fraud as described by Jesus’ talking salad tongs. His findings conclude that the key to translating the mystery of the Holy Salad Tongs is an anagram in the label of the long missing Holy Pepper Grinder and the Holy Gravyboat.

Chapter 1

“I’m a Tool!”

“Tonight the rightful guardians will be restored. Tell me where it is hidden, and you will live.” The strange albino man leveled his gun at the kneeling curator’s head. “Is it a secret you will die for?”

Pike could not breathe. The gunman was wearing J Lo perfume, its fumes pungent enough to permeate the clothes of those around him. Damn him! thought his hapless victim. I’m gonna die smelling like ass and Puff Daddy

“Your brethren have something that does not belong to you. Tell me where it is!”

“Never! I will die first!” Pike grumbled defiantly.

“Tell me and you may live! Tell me!”

“I don’t know! I swear, and if I did know, I wouldn’t tell you that I know!”

“Tell me! And what did you and your brethren do with my Vagisil?”

The albino man cocked the hammer of the gun. The curator tilted his head, peering down the barrel of his 38. Finally, the words involuntarily fell from his trembling lips.

“The Holy Salad Tongs…are in the Holy Washing Machine. The-the rest, I do not know.”

“Pray you do not lie,” warned the albino man. But inside, he cursed himself for not thinking of it first.

“Do it!” Pike plead, tears streamed down his leathery face. “Please kill me now, for I have betrayed my faith.”

A shot pierced through the night air. The albino man walked back into the darkness, a hand buried in his pants, violently scratching his rectal thrush and limping away. Only one secret would be told this evening.

Brown Daniels walked the Scottish Rite’s temple halls nervously, gloved albino hands clutching the Holy Salad Tongs.

“Ouch! you’re hurting me!” the Holy Salad Tongs whimpered, its tiny mouth unusually loud and shrill. “Let me go, for I am not yet clean, or dry!”

“Silence, Holy Tongs! your lies have no effect on me!”

But in fact, they did. Brown knew these were the very tongs used by Christ at the last supper…and he wondered if their supernatural powers could brace him for the coming storm. Sweat dripping from his brow, he approached the door of the Guardian. He kicked it in, surprising two men within.

“The code is broken!” he cried. “The Holy Salad Tongs are a mystery no more!”

The Guardian calmly assessed the visitor. “What then, is the code?”

Triumphantly, Brown held the Tongs to the questioner’s face. He waited a few moments, then noticed an uncomfortable silence.

“Tell him, damn you! Tell him!” Brown looked at the Tongs plaintively, awaiting an answer that never came.

“I thought so” the Guardian said with a chuckle. “They only talk when no one is around, I gather?”

“These tongs speak,” Brown continued nonetheless. “And I believe them. They prove Moses never met the Pharaoh or parted the Red Sea, and that he lived a normal life as a Jacuzzi salesman and bartender. The Holy Tongs say Jesus never existed at all, and by extension, neither does it or any of us. Such logic cannot be impugned!”

“What?” asked the youth in the room, perplexed. “There is more evidence to support the existence of Jesus, and his crucifixion, than there is for authors like Virgil, Cicero and Tacitus- men whom we base our accounts of ancient history upon.”

“Son, let us speak in private…” the Guardian said, his face betraying a hint of displeasure at the presence of intelligent discourse. “Let me walk you out.”

The lad was airlifted from the room with a mighty, toe-crunching boot kick.

“Your book’s precious conjecture that Jesus wasn’t crucified, that he had children with Mary, then moved to France; and thus became a royal blood lineage that exists to this day serves tyranny well. What better way to perpetuate the unworthy kingdoms of inbreds than to fool the world into believing the royal families of Europe are direct descendants of Jesus of Nazareth?”

“You mean the Windsors and Tudors etc?”

“The same. Take Prince Charles. You think those massive ears of his came from anything other than a genetic mutation inherent in shallow gene pools?”

“Yeah. They are some pretty big-ass ears. I’ll bet he can hear you change your mind.”

Pensively, he took a seat at his desk and resumed the conversation.

“It is through us that kings rule. Not just nobility now, but kings of industry and banking. However, Christianity is a threat to our Ancient and Accepted Order, you know this. We can no longer count on the Baptists or mainstream Christian religions to embrace the superstitions, myths, mindless rituals and concepts of freemasonry… too many understand its origins in Druidism and its embrace of scientific racism. Since many of us in the Templar Order are atheists, or anti-Christians; there is a danger that a revival of Christianity could create a backlash against secret societies like ours. What better way to stop this than to suggest Christianity itself was a fraud from the beginning?”

Brown took a minute to absorb it all. Then it struck him like a bolt of lightning.

“You mean the only reason you published my book; the only reason you spent so much money on promoting an unknown author, was because you thought it might bring more people to question or attack Christianity?”

“Well, it did help that you are one of us.”

“I feel used, you jizz-spattering cock goblin.”

“Take comfort. Hollywood will embrace your book, because Jews don’t believe in Jesus either. You will be compensated. Directors and actors in our order, like Tom Hanks and Ron Howard, have already embraced it.”

“But Jews believe in Moses, and my research proves conclusively he was just a Jacuzzi salesman and bartender. Will they love my work then?”

The Guardian smiled, swung his scaly tail, and walked away, saying nothing.

Next Installment, Chapter 2 “The Order of the Knights of Vagisil”

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