Consensus at the Font

Robbing the church may not have been one of my better ideas, but in couples therapy we had agreed that my ideas were as good as yours, and yes, anything to reach consensus for once. At the font you asked if I was entirely sure it was made of pure silver, and I began looking for hallmarks. Afterwards we were offered the loan of the priest’s drying cabinet if we promised never to do it again, and it was not entirely unpleasant to eat communion wafers and drink wine into the small hours, so at the next therapy session we could tell the psychologist that the method had probably worked.