My Dear Mogslopper,

To answer an unasked question: I was waiting for a more opportune time. Poridinop mentioned to me the other day that his patient is none other than the brazen leader of your patient's little church circle. I'm sure you have noticed him: a rather bland looking fellow who nevertheless has a wonderful sarcastic streak and is quick in both wit and temper. We could hardly have asked for a better social tutor for your patient. A man may be brimming over with malice, lust, self-obsession, etc. yet appear the very paragon of virtue to those outside his trusted circle. Those on the inside have been so trusted because they laugh at his cruel, humorless jokes, put up with his belittling of anyone he disagrees with, primarily because they enjoy the feeling of being "in". Vanity is what they used to call it. Never underestimate vanity, Mogslopper; it can keep a otherwise good human in league with other nasty ones long enough to sour the goodness in them all. Perhaps even the Church, with enough bad seeds planted in enough congregations, could plunge Hellward. Your patient is specifically suited for corruption. Not young any longer but far from elderly, your man has now begun to accumulate possessions and accolades that have real worth in their world. He has relationships he relishes; he has associations he values. When the Enemy asks him to sacrifice, your patient feels a slightly greater sting than he used to. Draw your patient's attention to the weight of the sacrifice, should he make any. He might feel pride at the accomplishment rising up in him. Perhaps he feels the Enemy "owes him one." Whatever you do in these moments, focus his attention inward toward the emotion of sacrifice rather than outward toward the need his sacrifice fills. If you have your patient full of himself, he will sense precious little gratitude at the Enemy's sacrifices on his behalf--infinitely larger ones, you know. Years of this pride at his accomplishments will coat your patient's very soul with a tasty residue. At a certain future point, we may transplant your human into another community of Churchmen. As long as the choice to move is borne of bitterness, an unkind remark by the pastor perhaps, your patient may become just the yeast we kneed for a future circle of like-minded scoffers. Organic multiplication, though admittedly the Enemy's idea for His followers, works for us as well. A cancer cell appears the same as a healthy cell until the proportion of cancer spreads throughout the tissue enough to cause real damage. By then, hopefully, it will be too late for your man, his group, his church. Affectionately, Your Uncle


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