My other half has been suffering rather heavily from a cold just recently. Sniffles interfere with DVDs, sneezes send whichever cat is on my lap into "claws out and into flesh for danger approaches!"-mode, et cetera. Thus far I have not contracted the illness which is odd as my immune system is usually quite good at letting through whatever works as a suitable excuse for a day off work.
In the mornings she is actually quite alert; she can breathe normally, the nose drips aren’t donning their best Chinese water torture disguise, and she sounds as pleasant as usual. Come the evening, though, and a day at work (she’s considerate like that; I wouldn’t) followed by the walk home is enough to render her a frail, fragile, and less agile shadow of her healthy self; kitchen roll in hand constantly for blowing, wiping, and absorption duties, mouth wheezing a permanent accompaniment to eating, drinking, talking, and keeping quiet, and a voice that sounds like Davros performing in drag. I still love her though. But if she shrivels up and attaches an eye to the middle of her forehead I may have to have a serious think about things.
So, let’s look at the evidence presented so far: my girlfriend has a bad cold which leaves her in a bad state except when she first wakes up. Why is that? Do cold germs sleep too? No, of course not; they’re all doped up on bacterial amphetamines, the little buggers.
The answer is, quite simply – and I can’t believe I’ve never mentioned this before -, I have mystical healing powers that aid the recuperation of my beloved when we share the bed in sleepy dreamland. It’s true. The Catholic Church has me listed as a miracle.
In my mid teens I was the destination of choice for hundreds of pilgrims each year too ill or predisposed towards laziness to head off to Lourdes or Knock or wherever a rocky outcrop in the shape of Mary’s torso conveniently near a religious souvenirs shop was miraculously crying whenever it rained. Each year I would be touched, groped, and fondled by complete strangers seeking some respite from whatever was debilitating them. A weaker person might have been affected abnormally by all this invasive attention and contact but I can happily state that I am, to this day, the same perfectly well-adjusted, nun’s wimple-sniffing, scatology museum-owning, mole-rubbing-addicted, transvestite police ring-running, school janitor impersonator that I think I always would have been regardless.
By my late teens, however, organised religion held less of an appeal and I branched out on my own becoming Miracle Mark plc. Later I dropped the "plc" when I found out you had to pay to become one and that the taxman showed more of an interest in you if he thought you were a business that wasn’t paying taxes as opposed to some religious nutjob claiming he had the power to remove face warts through healing slaps.
Which brings us to today: yes, I’m still a miracle of nature and yes, I’m still active in the curing community. The workload has reduced significantly in recent years ever since I began franchising the practice but I’m still called upon every other week or so to let the power of God flow through me.
In case you’re interested my pricelist and range of services are listed below. Mention "I swear I’m not investigating you for fraud on behalf of the Pope/Tony Blair/the Illuminati" when ordering for a 3% discount.
The Elbow Of Care
"The Elbow Of Care" is my starter healing package and easily the most popular as it’s the cheapest. For just £39.99 you can headbutt The Elbow until you are unconscious. Upon recovery you will find, so long as you have faith, that you are completely cured of: dead legs, dislocated hips, hallucinations featuring worms, scurvy, tonsilitis of the ear, itchy scrotum syndrome, excessive belly-button fluff, vestigial tails, missing lung by proxy, and cheesefinger.
The Captain Kirk Leap Of Faith
The minor sum of £49.99 buys you every nerd’s favourite cure suite. Upon application of my Captain Kirk two-footed leap at your chest and your subsequent retrieval from the ground where you land you can expect, so long as you have faith, to suffer no longer from: wrist-ache, chin-acne, stuttering, inflamed heels, gout of the shoulder, large head disease, running like a girl, intestinal spiders, and ingrowing nose.
The Two Fingers Of Loving Joy
I will poke two fingers into your eyes for just £69.99 during November (normal price £74.99) and guarantee to cure you, so long as you have faith, of: irresistable attraction to rabid dogs, occasional transformations into incredible hulks brought on by radiation, ear whooping cough, alien influence, permanent arm erection, mad carrot disease, jelly spine, and sentient armpit hair.
The Benevolent Boobie Massage
This healing miracle only applies to attractive women and is offered free-of-charge as a special service. A gentle, deep-tissue massage of your breasts while rubbing them against my face has been proven to cure, with plenty of faith: anything you like. (Note: I also offer a remote-healing option for this cure which merely requires you to send in photos of your boobies and what you would like cured. Although not as effective as in-person healing I can honestly say I’ve had great results and no serious complaints yet.)
The Holy Fist Of ‘Be Well Believer!’
Finally, my top-of-the-range curing basket of happiness, "The Holy Fist Of ‘Be Well Believer!’", at £199.99 isn’t priced for just anyone and requires the signing of a release absolving me of any possible damage caused by the healing punches to your kidneys but when you see what it fixes you’ll understand why: falling out of slippers, wetting the bed, flappy toes, gigantic tongue, Michael Jackson dreams, webbed buttocks, sweaty moustache (male or female), mushrooms on the chest, backwards knees, raven attacks, burst nipples, breathcrabs, voices instructing you to kill, shin-herpes, and too many hands. Wow! All that in one package!
Obviously, I’m only drawing your attention to all this to drum up some new business. Alternatively, if you have the power of ‘Holy Heal’ and are interested in becoming part of a growing organisation that has successfully caused to disappear in mysterious yet decidely lacking-in-evidence circumstances three competing companies in the South of England in the last year alone then let me know.