I apologise, my children.
I still love you, I promise.
Alright, I'm lying. You're all maggots, and not fit to lick my boot-heels. Still, you're obviously BETTER maggots than the rest of the APE-DESCENDED SCUM that you no doubt constantly wallow with.
With luck, if you are all good little maggots, you will one day metamorphose into flies, and then everything will be better.
BUT NOT TODAY.
So, we begin re-formatting THE OUTER CHURCH.
We have GOALS now, we have a PURPOSE.
What are those goals, what is that purpose?
SHUT UP, MAGGOT. WHO SAID YOU COULD ASK QUESTIONS.