Detective Father Eduardo Benito Does It Again
Detective Father Eduardo Benito stood underneath the Sistine Chapel and looked up. TICKLE TICKLE, it said. TICKLE TICKLE. The graffiti’d words repeated themselves again and again. Fellow priests milled about, all muttering their own particular flower of incredulity, outrage, and shame. All had the revving engines of their own particular plan, but they were a self-aware enough lot to realize that — in order for any plan to properly rev to life — they had to bring Detective Father Eduard Benito down from the parish in Perugia and ask him to take a look.
Benito was approached by Cardinals Joseph and Musial.
“Father Detective,” Cardinal Joseph said, his leathery melon of a head nodding curtly. “It’s good to see you.”
Cardinal Musial’s brows dipped below the tops of his glasses in confusion, half-turning to Cardinal Joseph. “But, Cardinal Joseph, unless I’m mistaken, I could have sworn the correct address was Detective Father —“
“I’m also a father, you know,” Detective Father Eduardo Benito said, jumping in, smiling, forever sitting in sunshine. “A boy and a girl.”
“But,” Cardinal Musial began to stutter. “Isn’t that against the rules?“
“So you’re a Father, Detective Father?” Cardinal Joseph said.
“What have we got here?” Detective Father Benito said, gesturing up at the defaced ceiling.
“Oh,” Cardinal Joseph said. “It’s terrible.”
“Terrible,” the assembled priests echoed. “Terrible.” Holy umarell seagulls.
“This doesn’t change our theological understanding?” Detective Father Benito said.
“What?” Cardinal Musial said, momentarily taken aback before speaking forcefully. “No. It does not change our theological understanding. God is not ticklish, and he certainly does not wear t-shirts that say, ‘The Lord of the Tickle.’”
“Ah, that’s a shame,” Benito said, almost to himself, the volume of his voice quietly drifting away.