The preacher hesitated and Sir slapped him hard on the face.

 

“Open your goddamn mouth,” he said. “And keep it open! Wider. Open that cock sucking mouth all the way. Stick that tongue out dead center. That’s right. Don’t move. Sir’s got some hot lemonade for you.”

 

Piss streamed from Sir’s dick across the platform into the preacher’s mouth and splashed on his tongue.

 

“Bull’s eye!” said Sir.

 

The urine was acrid tasting like metal mixed with crosstie sap. His mouth was full of piss and it began to drip onto his knees.

 

“Swallow it,” said Sir. “Like I said you’re going to take me with you.”

 

 Sir told Gibbs to close his eyes. He heard the clank of chains and the collar was removed. When he opened his eyes, he was released and Sir was gone. On a table in the back was a basin filled with water and a towel. The Reverend cleaned himself, got dressed put a mint in his mouth and exited the back of the tent. He left the park the same way he came in. The same man was still sitting there giving out the little maps.

 

“Did you get the megaphones?” asked Burt.

 

“I couldn’t find them,” said the preacher. “They weren’t anywhere around the nursery.”

 

“We’ll just have to shout,” said Burt.

 

“Right,” said Gibbs as he picked up his REPENT OR DIE banner.

 

“What’s that smell?” Burt asked.

 

“Oh, I got a pastrami on rye on the way back,” said Gibbs removing his Bull’s Eye ring and putting it back in his pocket.

 

“Man,” said Burt “I wish I had one of those.”

 

Reverend Gibbs smiled and picked up his protest sign.