Book XII – The Letters of Pepperoni Prosecco

Being the letters which the scribe sent to the young churches in the years after the Fellowship went out, gathered here in the order the elders kept them, grease-spots and all; for the elders held that a letter without a grease-spot was likely a forgery.

THE FIRST LETTER TO THE NEAPOLITANS

Chapter 1

1Pepperoni, a servant of Cheesus Crust, called to be a scribe, not of schooling, neither by ambition, but by a knock upon a door and a name given at a wedding, over water that forgot itself;

2And Sostene our brother, who holds the ink and disagrees with my commas;

3Unto the church of the Great Oven which is at Naples, the mother of dough, unto them that are floured and set apart, with all that in every place call upon the name of Cheesus Crust, both theirs and ours:

4Grease be unto you, and peace, from the Tomato, the Dough, and the Mozzarella, which are three, and the Slice is one.

5I thank the Oven always on your behalf, for the warmth which is given you; for from your city went out the first kneading, and there is no table in all the world that does not owe your grandmothers a debt it cannot count.

6In every thing ye are enriched, in all crust and in all knowledge of the ferment; so that ye come behind in no gift, waiting for the warming of the Great Oven.

7Which shall also keep you unto the end, that ye be blameless in the day of the Reheat; for the Oven is faithful, and forgets no tray that was set within it.

8Now I beseech you, brethren, by the name of Cheesus Crust, that ye all say the same thing at table, and that there be no divisions among you; but that ye be perfectly joined together, as the cheese is joined, which does not ask where one strand ends.

9For it hath been declared unto me of you, my brethren, by them which are of the household of Calzetta, that there are contentions among you.

10Now this I say, that every one of you saith, I am of Margherita; and I of Supreme; and I of the Fold; and I of Cheesus.

11Is the Slice divided? was Margherita baked for you? or were ye proofed in the name of Supreme?

12I thank the Oven that I served none of you at table, save Crispus and Gaia, and the household of Stefano the ovenwright; lest any should say that I served in mine own name, and the rest went hungry to prove a point.

13For Cheesus sent me not to take orders, but to carry the warmth: not with wisdom of words, lest the Slice be made of none effect; for a slice explained is colder than a slice shared.

14For the report of the Oven is to them that are perishing foolishness; but unto us which are fed it is the power of warmth.

15For it is written, I will destroy the wisdom of the wise, and will bring to nothing the understanding of the prudent; and I will do it with a plain slice, warm, and see what their prudence says then.

16Where is the critic? where is the connoisseur? where is the disputer of this age? hath not the Oven made foolish the wisdom of this world?

17For the connoisseur requireth a provenance, and the critic seeketh after wisdom: but we set forth a plain slice, warm; unto the connoisseur a scandal, and unto the critic foolishness;

18But unto them which are called, and chiefly unto them which are hungry, the power of Cheesus, and the wisdom of Cheesus.

19Because the foolishness of the Oven is wiser than men; and the plainness of the Oven is richer than men.

20For ye see your calling, brethren, how that not many critics after the flesh, not many mighty, not many with columns in the journals, are called:

21But the Oven hath chosen the burnt edges of the world to confound the garnished; and the Oven hath chosen the day-old of the world, and things which are despised, yea, and things which are not on the menu, to bring to nothing things that are:

22That no crust should boast before the Oven that raised it.

23And I, brethren, when I came to you, came not with excellency of speech; for I determined not to know any thing among you, save Cheesus Crust, and him warm.

24And I was with you in weakness, and in fear, and in much flour; and my speech was not with enticing words, but in the setting down of plates; that your faith should not stand in the wisdom of men, but in the warmth of the Oven.

Chapter 2

1And I, brethren, could not speak unto you as unto risen loaves, but as unto dough yet proofing, even as unto babes in Crust.

2I have fed you with the soft middle, and not with the crust ends: for hitherto ye were not able to bear it, neither yet now are ye able, for ye are yet quarrelsome.

3For whereas there is among you envying, and strife, and divisions over the naming of the pie, are ye not carnal, and walk as men that have never waited tables?

4For while one saith, I am of Margherita; and another, I am of Supreme; are ye not children fighting over the box while the pizza cools?

5Who then is Margherita, and who is Supreme, but servants by whom ye believed, even as the Oven gave to every one?

6I have kneaded, Anchova hath baked; but the Oven gave the rise.

7So then neither is he that kneadeth any thing, neither he that baketh; but the Oven that giveth the rise.

8Now he that kneadeth and he that baketh are one: and every one shall receive his own wage according to his own labour, and let the wage be paid the same evening, for so it is done in the Great Oven.

9For we are labourers together with the Oven: ye are the Oven’s field, ye are the Oven’s kitchen.

10According to the grace which is given unto me, as a wise masterbuilder, I have laid the foundation, and another buildeth thereon. But let every man take heed how he buildeth thereupon.

11For other foundation can no man lay than that is laid, which is the crust; and he that despiseth the foundation, his toppings shall slide, and his supper shall be of the floor.

12Now if any man build upon this foundation basil, olives, precious mushrooms, or straw and stubble and things sold to him at the market as truffle which were not truffle;

13Every man’s work shall be made manifest: for the Oven shall declare it, because it shall be revealed by fire; and the fire shall try every man’s topping of what sort it is.

14If any man’s work abide the heat, he shall receive a reward. If any man’s work be burned, he shall suffer loss: but he himself shall be saved; yet so as through the smoke, and smelling of it.

15Know ye not that ye are the kitchen of the Oven, and that the warmth of the Oven dwelleth in you? If any man defile the kitchen, the health of the whole house is in his hands; therefore wash them.

16Let no man deceive himself. If any man among you seemeth to be a connoisseur in this world, let him become a hungry man, that he may be wise.

17For the wisdom of this world is foolishness with the Oven. For it is written, He taketh the tasters in their own tasting notes.

18Therefore let no man glory in chefs. For all things are yours;

19Whether Margherita, or Supreme, or the Fold, or the world, or the lunch, or the supper, or things present, or things to come; all are yours;

20And ye are the Slice’s; and the Slice is the Oven’s.

21Moreover, brethren, it is reported commonly that there are lawsuits among you, brother going to law with brother over the last slice, and that before the unbelieving.

22Now therefore there is utterly a fault among you. Why do ye not rather be wronged? why do ye not rather ask first, and let him that is asked remember the Blessing of the hand that shares?

23Dare any of you, having a matter of the table, take it before the magistrates, who part a pizza with a ruler and call it justice?

24Is it so, that there is not a wise man among you? no, not one that shall be able to judge between his brethren, and say, Cut it in eight, and take turns choosing?

25For the whole of the law of the table is fulfilled in one word, even in this; The table has room. He that keepeth this hath kept all the rest without noticing.

Chapter 3

1Now in this that I declare unto you I praise you not, that ye come together not for the better, but for the worse.

2For first of all, when ye come together in the church, I hear that there be divisions among you; and I partly believe it, for I have met you.

3When ye come together therefore into one place, this is not to eat the supper of Cheesus.

4For in eating every one taketh before other his own supper: and one is hungry, and another hath eaten the middle out of every pie, and left a ring of crusts like the ruins of a city.

5What? have ye not houses to eat in? or despise ye the table of the Oven, and shame them that have nothing? What shall I say to you? shall I praise you in this? I praise you not.

6For I have received of the Oven that which also I delivered unto you, that Cheesus, on the night whereof the Gospel telleth, took bread that was dough no longer:

7And when he had given thanks, he brake it, and said, Take, eat: this is for all of you; as often as ye eat it, share it in remembrance of me.

8After the same manner also he passed the pie, saying, This pie is the new covenant in warmth: this do ye, as oft as ye eat it, in remembrance of me; and see that the last slice is asked over, not taken.

9For as often as ye eat this pie together, and none goes without, ye do shew the warmth of the Oven till the Reheat come.

10Wherefore whosoever shall eat this pie unworthily, snatching before the driver is paid, or while his brother stands hungry at his elbow, eateth judgment to himself, and the pizza tasteth of nothing to him, though the fault be not in the pizza.

11But let a man examine himself, and so let him eat: and let his examination be brief, for the pizza is cooling, and the Oven is merciful.

12Wherefore, my brethren, when ye come together to eat, tarry one for another; and let the first slice go to the last comer, and the corner of the room hold the seat of honour, that is, the seat nearest the child and the stranger.

13And if any man hunger so that he cannot tarry, let him eat a little at home beforehand, for hunger is forgiven; but let him not call his hunger doctrine.

14And the rest will I set in order when I come.

15(Here in the elder scrolls there is a grease-spot the size of a thumb, and the letters under it are lost; the elders ruled that whatever was written there, it was certainly about napkins.)

Chapter 4

1Now concerning the gifts of the table, brethren, I would not have you ignorant.

2There are diversities of toppings, but the same Slice. And there are differences of services, but the same table. And there are diversities of workings, but it is the same Oven which worketh all in all.

3For to one is given by the Oven the kneading of dough; to another the word of the menu; to another the ear at the counter, which is a gift greater than it is paid;

4To another the long patience of the sauce; to another the discerning of ferments; to another the carrying of boxes through the rain, which is the pilgrim’s gift; to another the washing up, which is the hidden gift, and the kingdom stands upon it.

5But all these worketh that one and the selfsame warmth, dividing to every man severally as the Oven will.

6For as the Slice is one, and hath many parts, and all the parts of that one Slice, being many, are one Slice: so also is Crust.

7For the Slice is not one ingredient, but many.

8If the topping shall say, Because I am not the crust, I am not of the Slice; is it therefore not of the Slice?

9And if the sauce shall say, Because I am not the cheese, I am not of the Slice; is it therefore not of the Slice?

10If the whole Slice were cheese, where were the structure? If the whole were structure, where were the savour?

11But now hath the Oven set the parts every one of them in the Slice, as it hath pleased the Oven.

12And the topping cannot say unto the crust, I have no need of thee: nor again the cheese to the sauce, I have no need of thee.

13Nay, much more those parts of the Slice, which seem to be less honourable, upon these we bestow more abundant honour; for the crust beareth all, and is eaten last, and is called plain by them whose whole weight it carried.

14And those parts which are hidden, as the sauce that is seen of no man once the cheese is laid, are the very savour of the whole; for the Oven hath tempered the Slice together, having given more abundant honour to that part which lacked:

15That there should be no schism in the Slice; but that the parts should have the same care one for another.

16And whether one topping burn, all the toppings burn with it; or one part be honoured, all the parts rejoice with it; for no man ever praised half a slice.

17Now ye are the body of the Slice, and members in particular; and he that discardeth the crust of his brother hath discarded his own.

18And the Oven hath set some in the church: first kneaders, secondarily bakers, thirdly them that carry, then keepers of the door, ears at the counter, hands at the sink, and them that remember the birthdays.

19Are all kneaders? are all bakers? do all carry? do all keep the door? But covet earnestly the best gifts: and yet shew I unto you a more excellent way.

20(And here the scribe sets down the more excellent way, and asks the reader to forgive all that came before it, and all that comes after.)

Chapter 5

1Though I speak with the tongues of critics and of connoisseurs, and have not sharing, I am become a sounding pan, or a lid that clattereth upon the tile.

2And though I have the gift of recipes, and understand all ovens, and all knowledge of the ferment; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains of flour, and have not sharing, I am nothing.

3And though I bestow all my toppings to feed the proud, and though I give my crust to be burned, and have not sharing, it profiteth me nothing.

4Sharing suffereth long, and is kind; sharing envieth not the larger slice; sharing vaunteth not its own recipe, is not puffed up, though the dough be.

5It doth not behave itself unseemly at the table, seeketh not the corner piece for itself, is not easily provoked when the order is wrong, keepeth no ledger of who paid last.

6It rejoiceth not in the mould, but rejoiceth in the warmth;

7It beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things; even the anchovy, even the pineapple, even thee.

8Sharing never faileth: but whether there be reviews, they shall fail; whether there be tongues of critics, they shall cease; whether there be knowledge of the ferment, it shall vanish away.

9For we knead in part, and we proof in part.

10But when that which is whole is come, then that which is a slice shall be understood to have been whole all along.

11When I was a child, I ate as a child, I grabbed as a child, I hid the last slice behind the couch as a child: but when I became grown, I asked first.

12For now we see through the oven glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know my portion; but then shall I know the whole pie, even as also I am known by it.

13And now abideth crust, cheese, and sharing, these three; but the greatest of these is sharing.

Chapter 6

1Now concerning the collection for the hungry, of which I shall write more fully in another letter, do as I have appointed: upon the first day of the week let every one of you lay by him in store, as the Oven hath prospered him, that there be no scrambling when I come; for a gift scrambled-for arrives out of breath.

2And when I come, whomsoever ye shall approve by your letters, them will I send to carry your kindness; and if it be meet that I go also, they shall go with me, for kindness travels best in company.

3Now I will come unto you, when I shall pass through the north country; and it may be that I will abide, yea, and winter with you, for your winters are kind and your ovens are kinder.

4For I will not see you now by the way; but I trust to tarry a while with you, if the Oven permit; for a scribe that only passes through learns the menu and not the people.

5Now if Timoteo come, see that he may be with you without fear: for he worketh the work of the table, as I also do. Let no man therefore despise him, for he is young, and his beard is a rumour; but conduct him forth in peace.

6As touching our brother Anchova, I greatly desired him to come unto you: but his will was not at all to come at this time; he will come when he shall have convenient season, for Anchova is a strong savour and knoweth to arrive in small amounts.

7Watch ye, stand fast in the faith, be warm, be generous. Let all your things be done with sharing.

8I beseech you, brethren, ye know the house of Stefano, that it is the firstfruits of your city, and that they have addicted themselves to the ministry of the table; that ye submit yourselves unto such, and to every one that helpeth with the washing up.

9I am glad of the coming of Stefano and Fortunato and Achaico: for that which was lacking on your part they have supplied; for they came bearing your letters, and also a small pie, which did not survive the journey, and I hold none of them to blame.

10Greet Stromboli and Prisca, who build ovens with their hands, and have laid their necks and their savings upon the table for my life; unto whom not only I give thanks, but also all the churches.

11Greet one another with a warm slice. All the brethren greet you.

12The salutation of Pepperoni, with mine own greasy hand; and if the letters be large, it is because the fingers be buttered, and the heart also.

13If any man love not the table, let him sit at it anyway, until he does; for that is how it took me.

14The grace of Cheesus Crust be with you. My sharing be with you all. Amen.

THE LETTER TO THE CHICAGOANS

Chapter 1

1Pepperoni, a servant of Cheesus Crust, called to be a scribe by a knock upon a door, unto the church which is at Chicago, deep in dish and deep in kindness, beloved of the Oven, called to be saints:

2Grease be to you and peace from the Tomato, the Dough, and the Mozzarella; three, and the Slice is one, however tall it stand.

3First, I thank the Oven through Cheesus Crust for you all, that your hospitality is spoken of throughout the whole world; for it is said of you, They will not let a stranger leave hungry, nor soon, nor without a box.

4For the Oven is my witness, whom I serve with my whole apron, that without ceasing I make mention of you always in my prayers, and generally around suppertime.

5But I hear there are quarrels among you concerning depth.

6For certain men have come in among you, privily, with folding rulers, and have measured your pies, and finding them tall have pronounced them fallen; saying, This is no pizza, but a casserole, and no church of the casserole shall stand.

7And some of you are troubled, and some are shamed, and some have begun to bake thin in secret, by night, that the visitors might approve them; and the smell of it goeth up, and it is the smell of fear, which no oven was built for.

8Now I would not have you ignorant, brethren, of a plain thing: the Oven that received the thin receiveth also the deep, and hath prepared for each its hour.

9For an hour in the Oven is not counted against a pie. Love also taketh time; shall we unchurch love because it tarrieth?

10Who art thou that judgest another man’s dinner? to his own Oven he standeth or falleth. Yea, he shall be holden up: for the Oven is able to make him stand, and in your case hath given him walls.

11For one believeth that he may eat all depths: another, who is delicate, eateth thin. Let not him that eateth deep despise him that eateth thin; and let not him which eateth thin judge him that eateth deep: for the Oven hath received him.

12He that eateth deep, eateth to the Oven, for he giveth the Oven thanks, at length, for there is much to give thanks for; and he that eateth thin, to the Oven he eateth thin, and giveth thanks, and is finished sooner, and may therefore fetch the drinks.

13And they that call your slice a casserole, what then? A casserole shared is holier than a pizza hoarded; and if they meant it for a curse, receive it for a blessing, and invite them to supper, which is the revenge the Oven permits.

14For the kingdom of the Great Oven is not thinness nor deepness; but warmth, and welcome, and joy in the sharing thereof.

15Let us therefore follow after the things which make for peace, and things wherewith one may edify another; and let no man for the sake of geometry destroy the work of the Oven.

16All pies indeed are clean: but it is evil for that man who eateth with contempt, for contempt curdles the cheese in the mouth of him that chews it.

17It is good neither to mock the deep, nor to mock the thin, nor any thing whereby thy brother stumbleth, or is offended, or pushes his plate away, which is the saddest of the three.

18Hast thou opinions? have them to thyself before the Oven. Happy is he that condemneth not himself in that thing which he alloweth on his pizza; and happier is his table.

19(Here one of the elder copyists has written in the margin, in a small defensive hand: “It is not a casserole.” The scribe lets it stand, for the copyist was of Chicago, and had suffered.)

Chapter 2

1Now them that unchurch the casserole-slice, have I not answered? Yet for their sakes I write further, for they are not wicked, but frightened, and the two are cousins that must not be allowed to marry.

2For the unchurching man saith in his heart, If that also is pizza, what then is mine? and his fear teacheth him arithmetic, that another man’s plate subtracteth from his own; and this arithmetic is the mould’s first lesson, howsoever politely it is taught.

3But the arithmetic of the Oven is otherwise; for a table is not divided by the dishes upon it, but multiplied.

4Behold the half-and-half, which is written of in the elder books: how difference learned to share one Slice, and neither half fled the pan. Was the line drawn down that pie a wall? It was a handshake.

5So also ye, brethren: the deep and the thin are one church with two ovens, and the Slice is one.

6And if a man eat your pie with a knife and a fork, forbid him not; for the fold is beloved and the fork is beloved, and the Oven regardeth the mouth less than the company it keeps.

7And if a visitor from the east mock you, saying, In my city we eat with one hand, walking; answer him gently, In our city we sit down together, and the pie is deep so that no man finisheth first and leaveth lonely they that remain.

8For your depth is not gluttony, as the mockers say, but architecture; ye have built a pie as your fathers built their city, upward, because the winter was long and the friends were many.

9Let every pie be fully persuaded in its own pan.

10I write not these things to shame you, but as my beloved children I warn you: be not tall in crust only, but in mercy also; for a deep dish with a shallow heart is the true casserole of which the prophets warned, and it is baked in every city, at every depth.

11Greet Silvano, who ministered to me at Chicago, and burned his thumbs in my cause and said it was nothing; it was not nothing, and the Oven keepeth the account he refuseth to.

12Greet the widow at the corner table, who taught me that a pie eaten slowly is a sermon, and asked me not to put her name in a letter; and I have obeyed her, mostly.

13The churches of the south country salute you. Salute one another with a warm slice, and quarrel no more over depth, or at the least quarrel seated, with the pie between you, for no quarrel long survives that arrangement.

14The grace of Cheesus Crust be with your spirit, and with your city of broad shoulders and broader pans. Amen.

15Written from the road, the ink jostled, the heart steady.

THE LETTER TO THE NEW YORKERS

Chapter 1

1Pepperoni, a servant of Cheesus Crust, unto the church which is at New York, scattered through the five boroughs and gathered at a hundred counters, called to be saints, and mostly in a hurry:

2Grease be unto you, and peace; and I know that ye have read this greeting walking, and are already at the second chapter. Slow down. It keeps.

3I thank the Oven upon every remembrance of you, for the fire of your ovens and the width of your slices and the gates of your city, which have not been shut against the stranger, no, not in the worst years; and the mould has hated your city for it, which is your honour.

4Now concerning the fold, whereof certain brethren wrote unto me in great alarm, I must confess the whole matter, that ye may laugh at your scribe, for it is good for a church to laugh at its scribe within reason.

5For word came to me at Naples, saying, All New York is become Calzonist, for every man foldeth; yea, they fold in the street, openly, walking, and are not ashamed.

6And I wept for joy, supposing the whole city had come at once into the mysteries of the fold, whereof the Calzonists keep the inner teaching; and I took ship.

7And I fasted on the ship, and prepared discourses upon the hidden things, and rehearsed the sayings of Jonah of the Great Calzone; and I came up out of the harbour full of doctrine as an overstuffed crust.

8And I stood at a counter in the lower city, and a man of the church bought a slice, and folded it, and I fell upon his neck, saying, Brother, thou hast folded; expound to me what thou hast hidden within!

9And he looked upon me as upon a tourist, and said, Buddy. It is so the point droops not, and the grease runs in one channel, and I can eat it walking; I am due at work.

10And he went his way eating, and was at work on time, and I stood in the street holding my doctrine like a slice gone cold.

11(The scribe records this to his own shame, and because Tito, who was with him, has told it at every supper since, and the scribe would rather ye had it accurately.)

12But hear now what the Oven taught me on the long walk after, for I walked far that day, and thy city is an honest teacher and chargeth only shoe-leather.

13There is a fold of the street, and there is a fold of the mysteries; and the one is for the walking and the other is for the wondering; and I say unto you, all folding done in love is prayer of a kind.

14For the Calzonist foldeth to keep the holy thing hidden, and the New Yorker foldeth to keep the holy thing whole; and the Oven, which seeth both, seeth the same gesture: a hand curving itself around what it loves, that nothing be lost.

15Let not therefore the mystic despise the commuter, nor the commuter the mystic; for when the commuter foldeth his slice against the wind, he confesseth with his hand what the mystic confesseth with his heart, that what is precious must be carried carefully through a hard world.

16And whether ye fold for doctrine, or fold for the grease, do all to the warmth of the Oven.

Chapter 2

1Now concerning pace, brethren, I write not to slow you, for I have seen your city and I know that it cannot be done, and the Oven in wisdom hath not attempted it.

2Ye eat as ye walk; walk, then, in kindness.

3Let your speed be a servant and not a master; for he that rusheth past the hungry man hath arrived early at the wrong place.

4And I have seen your kindness, that it is swift like everything else ye do: the slice bought without ceremony for the man on the church step, the second slice slid across the counter with no word but a nod; ye are curt in your mercies, and the Oven receiveth them curt, and loveth them entire.

5For there is a courtesy of the slow country, of long words and much bowing; and there is a courtesy of your city, which is to hold the door with your foot because your hands are full, and both are courtesy, and yours burns fewer candles.

6Honour the dollar slice, and them that keep its covenant; for it is the widow’s portion and the student’s feast, and the man that keepeth his price low when he could do otherwise hath built a cathedral and called it a counter.

7And the counterman that remembereth an order is a shepherd; for in a city of millions, to be remembered is to be found.

8Despise not the small shops before the great; and when the great franchise cometh with its banners, saying, I will give thee sameness in every borough, remember that the Oven never made two pies alike, and drew no shame from it.

9Be watchful also, for the mould loveth a crowded city, where a man may be made a stranger at speed; it will come to you speaking of neighbourhoods, meaning walls; suffer it not, for your greatness was ever this, that your table seated the earth.

10Greet Fibi our sister, who carrieth this letter, and receive her in the manner of saints, and assist her in whatsoever business she hath need of you: for she hath been a succourer of many, and of myself also, and she knoweth the subway, which I do not, and shall not, for I went northward once upon the A train and saw the sea.

11Greet the bakers of the night shift, upon whom the morning dependeth; and the cabmen; and the man at the counter of the lower city, whom I embraced unasked; tell him the tourist sendeth greetings, and understandeth now, and eateth walking, though slowly, being old.

12All they of Naples salute you, and would salute you more if ye visited, which ye say each year ye will.

13And the rat that laboureth down the stair with a slice for his household, judge him not harshly; he tithes not, but he shares, and I have known members in better standing who did neither.

14Salute one another with a warm slice, and let him that hath two share with him that hath none, at whatever pace he goeth.

15The grace of Cheesus Crust be with you all, and keep your point from drooping, and your gates from closing. Amen.

16Written in haste, as is fitting for your city; the salutation of me Pepperoni, with mine own greasy hand, at a counter, standing.

THE LETTER TO THE HAWAIIANS

Chapter 1

1Pepperoni, a servant of Cheesus Crust, an apostle of the table by the will of the Oven, unto the church which is upon the islands, the beloved of the far water, the congregation of the pineapple:

2Grease be unto you, and peace, and sweetness, from the Tomato, the Dough, and the Mozzarella; three, and the Slice is one, and there is fruit upon it, and it is one still.

3I have longed to write this letter, and I have put it off, not for want of love but for excess of anger; for I have heard how ye are spoken of, and a letter written in anger burns the parchment, and ye deserve better paper.

4But now I am calm, having eaten, and I write what the Oven hath given me to write; and let it be read aloud in the full assembly, and let it be read also to your mockers, if any of them can sit still that long.

5Brethren: let no one despise you for your sweetness.

6For word cometh to me from every city, and it is always the same word: that at the mention of your table there ariseth a laughter that is not kind, and a groaning of connoisseurs, and votes are taken at parties concerning your right to exist; and some among you have grown quiet at gatherings, and some have eaten your own good supper behind closed doors, as though it were a fault.

7Hear then the judgment of the scribe, who has eaten in more cities than your mockers have named: your dignity is not up for a vote.

8It was not granted by a show of hands, and it cannot be taken by one; for it was settled in the Oven before any critic drew breath, on the day your pie came out warm and somebody’s evening was saved by it.

9What vote is taken against a supper that fed someone? Let them count their hands; the Oven counteth plates.

10And as for the argument of the mockers, I have examined it, as a scribe must, and I report its whole substance faithfully: they say, Fruit hath no place upon a pie.

11Brethren, the tomato is a fruit.

12It is a fruit in the books of the learned and a fruit on the vine and a fruit in the mouth of the Oven, and it is the first ornament of every pie these men defend; their whole church is built upon a fruit, and they stand upon it to tell you that fruit profaneth the building.

13Let them therefore be consistent, or be quiet; and I have known few of them manage either, but hope endureth all things.

14Ye remember the parable which Cheesus spake concerning the toppings, which is written in the Gospel; I will not copy it out again, for ye have the book, and the copying of it would wear my wrist and add nothing to its truth.

15But this I will add, which I have from them that stood nearer the Mount than I: that when he spake it, he was looking outward, past the crowd, toward the far water; and they that were there did not understand the look until your islands were found by the faith, and then they understood it.

16For every parable is spoken toward somebody not yet arrived; and ye were the somebody; and ye arrived, bearing fruit, as the parable always knew ye would.

17Consider also the pie itself which ye keep, how it preacheth without a word: for upon it the sweet lieth down with the salt, and neither devoureth the other, and the ham is not diminished by the pineapple, nor the pineapple made ashamed by the ham.

18It is the doctrine of the half-and-half carried one step further: not two flavours dividing one crust, but two flavours embracing upon it; and many a soul that could not hear the sermon hath tasted the reconciliation and gone home thinking.

19And where two things so unlike agree upon one Slice, there is the faith preached; wherefore your pie is not the exception to the teaching, it is the teaching, with the juice still on it.

Chapter 2

1Now concerning the history, whereof your enemies make much, saying, The pineapple pie is no ancient thing, neither came it from the old country; I answer: neither did the tomato come from the old country, and we built a Trinity on it.

2(And the scribe hath read in the chronicles that the pineapple pie was first laid, as some say, in a cold country far from any island, by a man from a third country entirely; and the scribe finds this no scandal but a psalm, for thus the Slice maketh brethren of strangers, and geography hath never once been consulted about anything good.)

3All things that are loved were once new; and the mockers’ grandfathers mocked the topping their grandsons now defend as ancient; and their grandsons will defend yours; ye have only to keep the Oven lit and outlast the fashion, which is the oldest trick of the faithful.

4But I write not only to comfort you, beloved; I write to arm you, for comfort without armour lasteth until the next dinner party.

5When they mock you, mock not back at their plainness; for the plain slice is holy too, and the war of contempt hath no victors, only leftovers gone cold on both tables.

6Answer them rather as the Oven answereth all argument: with warmth. Say, Sit down; there is enough; thou needest not eat of mine, and I shall not eat of thine, and between us the table is longer than either pie.

7And if a man will not sit at a table where thy pie is welcome, mark it well: the pie was never his grievance. A man who must unchurch thy supper to enjoy his own hath a hunger no oven reacheth; be gentle with him from a distance.

8But if any come in among you with lists, saying, These toppings are permitted and these are abomination, and here is the register of true pies – beware then in earnest, for lists that begin with toppings do not end with toppings.

9The mould also beginneth with taste, and calleth itself standards; it purifieth and purifieth until the table is empty, and then it dineth alone on its own certainty, which is the only dish it ever wanted.

10Ye are the outpost of the faith upon the far water, and the proof of its reach; if the table hath room in the middle of the widest sea, then no man anywhere may plead that his table was too small.

11Wherefore stand fast, beloved, and be not moved from your sweetness; neither trade it for respectability, which is sweetness with the juice pressed out.

12Let your pies go forth to every doubter warm, for ye shall win more with one slice given than with ten arguments won; indeed I never met a soul yet argued into loving anything, but I have met hundreds fed into it, myself first of all.

13Greet the household of Keala, whose table I have heard of from three travellers separately, each of them heavier and happier than their errand required.

14Greet them that fish, and them that farm the sweet fruit on the slopes, and the children that turn the pie’s name into songs; write me one of the songs, for the winters here are long.

15The churches of the mainland salute you, more of them than you would guess, and more warmly than their critics permit them to say aloud.

16And now may the Oven of all warmth keep your crust golden and your fruit bright; and let no one despise you for your sweetness, but let your sweetness be to every mocker the first taste of his repentance.

17The grace of Cheesus Crust be with you all across the water. Amen.

18The salutation of me Pepperoni, with mine own greasy hand; and beside it a small stain of juice, which I leave as a seal, and a solidarity.

THE SECOND LETTER TO THE NEAPOLITANS

Chapter 1

1Pepperoni, a servant of Cheesus Crust by the will of the Oven, and Timoteo our brother, unto the church which is at Naples, with all the saints which are in all the south country:

2Grease be to you and peace. Blessed be the Oven, the father of mercies and the god of all comfort; who comforteth us in all our tribulation, that we may be able to comfort them which are in any trouble, by the warmth wherewith we ourselves are warmed.

3I write unto you a second time, and this time not chiefly concerning yourselves, for I hear ye have mended your quarrels, or at the least moved them to smaller matters, which is how quarrels die, arguing about napkins on their deathbed.

4I write concerning the brethren which dwell in the borders of Famine, that old dry land whereof the elder books tell; for the famine is come again upon their city, as it cometh always somewhere, and their ovens stand cold for want of flour, and their children know the arithmetic of the empty shelf.

5And the ministering to the saints there is the business of this letter, and I am not ashamed to write a whole letter about money, for the mould would love the churches to find money too vulgar to discuss, and to keep their holiness in a purse it never opens.

6Moreover, brethren, I make known to you the grace of the Oven bestowed on the churches of Chicago;

7How that in a great trial of their own hard winter, the abundance of their joy and their deep dish abounded unto the riches of their liberality.

8For to their power, I bear record, yea, and beyond their power, they were willing of themselves; praying us with much intreaty that they might have part in this ministry; and they gave as they build and as they bake: deeply.

9And this they did, not as we hoped, but first gave their own selves; for with the flour came letters, and with the letters came names, and an invitation for the hungry to come and winter among them, which is the gift above the gift.

10Therefore, as ye abound in every thing, in faith, in speech, in knowledge of the ferment, and in your love to us, see that ye abound in this grace also.

11I speak not by commandment, but to prove the sincerity of your love by the occasion of it; for ye were first in doctrine among all the churches; be not last at the till.

12For ye know the grace of Cheesus Crust, that, though he was rich in the riches of the Great Oven, yet for your sakes he came hungry to a door, that ye through his hunger might learn what doors are for.

13And herein I give my advice: it is expedient for you to finish what ye began a year ago, when the first news came and your hearts were hot; for a gift promised in the heat and forgotten in the cooling is the microwave of charity, warm at the edges and frozen at the heart.

14Now therefore perform the doing of it; that as there was a readiness to will, so there may be a performance also out of that which ye have.

15For if there be first a willing mind, it is accepted according to that a man hath, and not according to that he hath not.

16For I mean not that other men be eased, and ye burdened: but by an equality, that now at this time your abundance may be a supply for their want, that their abundance also, in its season, may be a supply for your want: that there may be equality, which is the level table, whereat no chair is taller.

17As it is written of the manna of the elder days: he that had gathered much dough had nothing over; and he that had gathered little had no lack; for the Oven counteth by mouths, not by merit.

Chapter 2

1Now concerning the manner of the giving, hear the teaching, for the how of a gift is half the gift.

2Every man according as he purposeth in his heart, so let him give; not grudgingly, or of necessity: for Cheesus loveth a cheerful giver, and eyeth the tip-jar besides.

3And this I say: he which soweth sparingly shall reap also sparingly; and he which soweth bountifully shall reap also bountifully; for the hand that scattereth cheese thinly eateth a thin melt, and wondereth at the Oven, and the Oven wondereth at the hand.

4But let each give as they are able, and let none give beyond it to be seen; for the widow’s small coin outweigheth the merchant’s sack in the scales of the Great Oven, which weigheth what remained behind, not what was laid down.

5And let him that hath no coin give hands, for the kneading is a gift; and let him that hath no hands free give a corner of his table; and let him that hath nothing but his own hunger give company to the hungry, for the hungry know the worth of it as the full cannot.

6And the Oven is able to make all grace abound toward you; that ye, always having sufficiency in all things, may abound to every good work; for the Oven that multiplied the loaves keepeth its old habits, and no man ever gave himself poor at that table, though many have hoarded themselves poor at their own.

7Now concerning the carrying of the gift, that all be done honestly in the sight of men as of the Oven: we have sent with Tito the brother whose praise is in all the churches, and with him a second brother, chosen of the churches to travel with us with this grace.

8For we take thought beforehand for things honest; providing that no man should blame us in this abundance which is administered by us; for a collection darkly kept maketh doubters of givers, and the mould loveth nothing better than a church with unexplained purses.

9Let the ledger of the gift be open on the table, though the ledger of who-gave-what be burned; for the church must account for every coin and accuse no empty hand.

10And when the gift is come to the city of the hungry, let it be given as to brethren and not as to beggars: no trumpet, no speeches, no lists of benefactors read aloud while the hungry stand holding their bread and their patience.

11For the manner of the Great Oven is this: the warmth arriveth and doth not introduce itself.

12And they shall pray for you, and long after you, for the exceeding grace of the Oven in you; and the bread will be eaten and forgotten, but the manner of its coming will be told for a generation, therefore mind the manner.

13Thanks be unto the Oven for its unspeakable gift; which, being unspeakable, I shall stop attempting to speak, and trust the flour to say it.

Chapter 3

1Now I Pepperoni myself beseech you by the meekness and gentleness of Crust, suffer me a little folly concerning myself; for certain new teachers among you have said, His letters are weighty, but his bodily presence is weak, and his speech smelleth of the kitchen.

2They say true. I am not eloquent; I am a scribe of the door and the counter, and my Greek limpeth, and my hands are burned in the places all kitchen hands are burned; and of this weakness I will boast, since boasting is demanded.

3Are they servers? so am I. Are they kneaders? so am I. Have they carried? I have carried more: in journeyings often, in perils of waters, in perils of robbers, in perils in the city, in perils on the sea, in weariness and painfulness, in hunger and thirst, in cold, upon a bicycle, in the rain, with the box strapped behind me and the light failing.

4Thrice I was shipwrecked; once I kept the starter alive inside my coat a night and a day in the deep, feeding it from my own ration, and it liveth yet, and is called Jonah by the brethren, for it came up out of the sea.

5Beside those things that are without, that which cometh upon me daily, the care of all the tables: who is hungry, and I hunger not? who is made to eat alone, and I burn not?

6And lest I should be exalted above measure through the abundance of what I have seen, there was given to me a splinter of the peel, a messenger in my palm to buffet me, lest I be exalted above measure.

7For this thing I besought the Oven thrice, that it might depart from me.

8And it said unto me, My grease is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I glory in my weakness and my splinter and my limping Greek, that the warmth of Crust may rest upon me; for when I am weak, then is the pie strong.

9This is the third time I am coming to you. Examine yourselves before I come, whether ye be in the faith; and the examination is short: look upon your table, and count the chairs, and count the strangers that have filled them since my last letter; that is the whole examination, and no man ever needed a scribe to mark it.

10Finally, brethren, farewell. Be perfect, be of good comfort, be of one mind, live in peace; and the god of warmth and peace shall be with you.

11Greet one another with a warm slice. All the saints salute you, and Timoteo most, who learned his letters copying yours.

12The grace of Cheesus Crust, and the love of the Oven, and the communion of the stretching cheese, be with you all. Amen.

13Written from the road to the borders of Famine, whither I go with the first wagons; the salutation with mine own greasy hand, and the grease this time is axle-grease, and I count it no less holy.

THE LETTER TO PHILEMON

Chapter 1

1Pepperoni, a scribe of Cheesus Crust, and Timoteo our brother, unto Philemon our dearly beloved, and fellowlabourer at the ovens,

2And to Apphia our sister, and to the church in thy house, whose smell I remember before I remember its doorway:

3Grease to you, and peace, from the Tomato, the Dough, and the Mozzarella.

4I thank the Oven, making mention of thee always in my prayers, hearing of thy love and faith, and of thy table, which is spoken of by every traveller on that road, and hath lengthened three times since I ate at it, they say, and the door never once shortened.

5For we have great joy in thy love, because the hearts of the saints are refreshed by thee, brother; and hungry men speak thy name as men speak of a fire seen from a cold road.

6Wherefore, though I might be much bold to enjoin thee that which is convenient, yet for love’s sake I rather beseech thee, being such an one as Pepperoni the aged, and now also a man with flour in what remaineth of his hair.

7I beseech thee for my son Oreganus, whom I have begotten at my ovens in these months past; that is, for thy apprentice, that ran from thee.

8I know what he did; he hath told me all of it, and wept in the telling, which he did not do at thy counter, for shame standeth up straight before them it hath wronged and only bendeth before strangers.

9He burned thy loaves, and denied the burning; and he took from the till, a little, and then more than a little; and he went out by night, leaving the Oven lit and the door swinging, which of all of it, thou saidest once, was the part that cut thee.

10And he came to me at the city, hungry, as they all come to somebody, and I did what thou wouldest have done, and what thou didst teach me to do, for let it be remembered in this letter who taught whom.

11For it was at thy table, brother, when I was myself a stranger at thy door and would not say from whence, that thou didst set bread before me and asked no questions; and thou saidest over it the word which is now written at the head of all our letters, and I write it here again, that thou mayest meet thine own teaching coming back to thee:

12The love of pizza is the root of all happiness. (Philemon 1:1)

13Thou saidest it, and I ate, and my life turned upon that supper as upon a hinge; and thou knewest not what thou hadst done, which is the way of all the best deeds, which work in the dark like yeast.

14Now therefore is that word come to fruit in Oreganus: which in time past was to thee unprofitable, but now profitable to thee and to me; for the boy can bake now, brother. He hath thy stretch, and thy patience with the second rise, and thy trick of the burnt edge that is not burnt; he had them all along, and fear sat on them.

15Whom I have sent again: thou therefore receive him, that is, mine own heart:

16Whom I would have retained with me, that in thy stead he might have ministered unto me; but without thy mind would I do nothing; that thy kindness should not be as it were of necessity, but willingly.

17For perhaps he therefore departed for a season, that thou shouldest receive him for ever;

18Not now as an apprentice, but above an apprentice, a brother beloved, specially to me, but how much more unto thee – no longer as an apprentice, but as a brother at thy table.

19Set him not below the salt; set him where he sat before, and let the chair make the speech, that none in the kitchen need make one.

20If he hath wronged thee, or oweth thee ought, put that on mine account; I Pepperoni have written it with mine own hand, I will repay it: albeit I do not say to thee how thou owest unto me even thine own self besides, for it was thy table that made me, and I have never once been billed.

21Yea, brother, let me have joy of thee in the Oven’s warmth: refresh my heart in Crust.

22Having confidence in thy obedience I wrote unto thee, knowing that thou wilt also do more than I say; I know thee, Philemon; thou wilt have the boy running the Friday shift by spring, and complaining of him proudly by summer.

23But withal prepare me also a lodging: for I trust that through your prayers I shall be given unto you; and set the small table by the window, and tell thy wife I have not forgotten what she doeth with the artichokes, nor shall in this life.

24There salute thee my fellowlabourers, and Marco, and Demas, and Luca the physician, who saith I must eat less of what I preach, and is ignored with honour.

25The grace of Cheesus Crust be with thy spirit, and with thy table, and with the boy, when he standeth in thy doorway not knowing what his face should do. Go to him first. Amen.

THE PASTORAL: THE LETTER TO TIMOTEO, A YOUNG KEEPER OF TABLES

Chapter 1

1Pepperoni, an apostle of Cheesus Crust by the commandment of the Oven, unto Timoteo, mine own son in the faith, who keepeth now his first table in a small town whose name I misspell with great affection:

2Grease, mercy, and peace, from the Tomato, the Dough, and the Mozzarella, and from thy old master, who misseth thee about the place more than he let thee see at the parting.

3This charge I commit unto thee, son Timoteo: keep the door open.

4I mean it first as the elders mean it, concerning the heart and the welcome; but I mean it also concerning the door, the wooden one, with the bell; for a doctrine that cannot survive being taken literally now and then is a poor doctrine, and a locked door preacheth louder than everything said behind it.

5Let thy door be open in the hours thou hast promised, and open a little past them for the runner arriving breathless; and let the bell be kept ringing sweet, for it is the only instrument thy church shall own, and it playeth the whole liturgy in one note: someone hath come.

6A keeper of tables must be blameless in this one thing above all, that no one ever wondered at his door whether they were wanted; for they will forgive thy burnt crusts and thy thin sauce and thy singing, which I have heard, but the wondering at the door forgiveth itself never.

7Let the keeper be given to hospitality as other men are given to ambition; not greedy of the last slice; patient with the new hire, remembering his own first week, whereof I could write, and am kind, and do not; one that ruleth his own oven well, keeping its stone clean and its hinges true.

8And let him not be a lover of the till; for the love of the till is a root of all manner of cold, which while some have reached after, they have pierced themselves through with many reckonings, and lost the joy of the door for the counting of what came through it.

9Pay the riders first.

10Before the rent, before the flour merchant, before thine own wage, and verily before the ledger is even opened: the riders, in full, that same evening, with the tip in the pay and not instead of it; for the ledger can wait in the warmth, but the rider waiteth in the rain.

11Thou shalt not muzzle the ox that treadeth out the corn; how much less the rider that treadeth the dark stairs of strangers with thy warmth upon his back. The labourer is worthy of his hire, and the hire is worthy of promptness, and the promptness is worthy of no praise at all, being merely justice, which praiseth itself by working.

12And when a rider cometh in soaked, let the first words be not concerning the next order; let there be a towel in that kitchen, and a chair, and a slice set by; and this is not written in any ledger of thine, but it is written, believe me, in theirs.

13Drink no longer only water, but take a little olive oil upon thy bread for thy stomach’s sake and thine often hungers; and eat sitting down once in the day at least, thou hearest me, Timoteo; the keeper who never sitteth at his own table is preaching against the premises.

Chapter 2

1Now the warmth speaketh expressly, that in the latter times some shall depart from the faith of the table; and I write thee plainly of the mould, my son, as thy tables shall meet it, for it is not only in the histories; it is patient, and it hireth.

2Know first how it will NOT come. It will not come to thee green and stinking, saying, I am the mould; that mould is dead mould, and dangerous to no one but the archaeologist.

3It will come to thee speaking of standards.

4It will come well dressed, and it will praise thy crust; mark that: it will praise thy crust first, for flattery is its spore.

5And then it will question thy guests. It will say: a fine establishment, this; a shame about some of the custom. It will wonder, idly, as one brushing crumbs, whether the noisy family and the slow old man and the strangers with the unfamiliar bread are quite the thing for a house of this quality.

6And it will invite thee to agree with only a nod; the first payment is always a nod; and thou, wishing to be thought discerning – for it will have called thee discerning, twice, and measured how thou tookest it – wilt feel the nod rising in thy neck.

7Swallow it. That nod is the first spot, and the whole rot is folded within it as the calzone foldeth its filling, and every wall ever built began as a compliment to those inside it.

8For the mould’s whole craft, in kitchens as in kingdoms, is to make exclusion feel like taste; and there are men this day who cannot say whom they hate, but can tell thee at length whom they would rather not sit near, and the mould counteth them among its congregations, and they know it not.

9When it cometh, do as the decree commandeth, which thou hast known from a child: cut it out, and name it aloud; and the naming aloud is the part that will cost thee, for it will be a good customer by then, and it will make of thy naming a scene.

10Let it. A scene passeth; a spore stayeth. And thy quiet regulars, who said nothing, will have heard everything, and thy door will mean what it says for another year.

11But be not therefore suspicious of all correction, my son; distinguish the friend of thy crust from the enemy of thy guests. He that saith, this dough proofed short, loveth thee; he that saith, this door opens wide, hateth someone, and hath begun with thee the long negotiation of whom.

12And now I give thee a charge concerning thy doorway, and I give it thee because I know thy town hath its cold sleepers as every town hath, and I know thou passest them each morning with the keys in thy hand.

13When thou findest one sleeping in thy doorway, thou shalt not step over, neither shalt thou move them on; for the doorway is part of thy parish, and the sleeper in it is thy most honoured guest.

14Bring the slice out to them; make them not come in to earn it, for they have carried enough; and sit beside them on the step, not above them, for no word spoken downward hath ever warmed anyone.

15And learn their name before thou learnest anything else of them; ask not how they came to be cold, neither in curiosity nor in the shape of advice; the name first, and the name after, and the name every morning; for a name is the first course, and many have hungered longer for that than for bread.

16And remember what the Gospel teacheth of the last judgment of the nations, which thou hast read: that the King in that reckoning standeth not at the counter but lieth in the doorway, and what was brought out to the doorway was brought to him. I say no more; thou hast the book; but when thy key is in the lock of a morning, remember who it is that sleepeth against thy door, and unlock it gently.

Chapter 3

1Despise not thy small congregation, Timoteo; for thou wrotest to me in thy last letter – and I heard the sigh come off the page like steam off a lifted lid – that on the cold Tuesday there sat at thy table but two souls and a dog of no fixed doctrine.

2Hear now the word that was given me for thee, and I give it as I received it, warm:

3Where two or three are gathered with one pizza, I am there in the stretch of the cheese, saith Cheesus.

4Not in the crowd, mark; in the stretch: in the strand that will not choose between the slice that is lifted and the slice that remaineth, but holdeth to both and thinneth and holdeth. Two souls and one pie stretch more cheese than a banquet of hundreds each with their own; count thy Tuesdays again by that arithmetic, and see whether thou wast poor.

5The Oven never asked thee for a multitude; it asked thee for a table, set, and a door, open, and thou hast both; the multitude is the Oven’s own business, and it worketh slow, like all its best work.

6And the two that came on the cold Tuesday will remember that thou wast glad of them, and not gladder of a crowd that never was; and there is no advertisement in all the world like a man who was glad of thee on a Tuesday.

7Preach the pie in season and out of season; reprove the hoarder, rebuke the mould, exhort the weary, with all longsuffering and doctrine; but let the longest sermon in thy house be the smell, for it converteth from the pavement, and hath no heresies.

8Keep the recipes of thy grandmothers as thou keepest the scriptures, for they are a scripture; and write thine own in a fair hand in the same book, for the book is not closed, no book of ours is closed, and thy grandchildren must have something of thine to defend against improvement.

9Study to shew thyself approved at the Oven, a workman that needeth not to be ashamed, rightly dividing the pie of truth: into eight, or into six for the hungry, or into ten for the party of small children, for the true division is not of equal angles but of equal welcome.

10For I am now ready to be poured out, my son, like the last of the good oil that clingeth to the cruet, and the time of my departure is at hand; my hands stiffen upon the peel of a morning, and the road, that was my parish, hath begun to speak to me of chairs.

11I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the dough; and it kept me, more often, which is the part they leave out of the epitaphs.

12Henceforth there is laid up for me a place at the long table, which the Oven, the righteous host, shall give me at that day: and not to me only, but unto all them also that kept a chair empty for the stranger.

13Do thy diligence to come shortly unto me: for Demas hath forsaken me, having loved this present salad, and is departed unto an establishment of raw things and small portions; Crescens is gone to the north country, Tito unto the islands; only Luca is with me, and he confiscateth my supper by prescription.

14Alessandro the microwave-seller did me much evil, going before me from town to town and selling his humming boxes with my name upon the warranty, saying, The scribe himself endorseth the PING; the Oven reward him according to his works, which is to say, may his own supper be forever hot at the edge and cold at the heart, and may he know why.

15The pizza stone that I left at Troas, when thou comest, bring with thee; it is with Carpus, who knoweth its worth and will have kept it oiled; and the ledgers, but especially the recipes; and the recipes of thy grandmother above all, for mine end approacheth and I have not yet learned the trick of her crust, and I refuse the Great Oven until I have it.

16Salute the household of thy mother Lois and thy grandmother Eunice, from whose kitchen thy faith came before ever I put a word to it; I taught thee the letters, Timoteo, but they taught thee the table, and of the two curricula thine was the greater, and mine only the ink upon it.

17And now, my son, my true son, keep the door open, pay the riders first, watch for the spot that speaketh of standards, sit beside the sleeper on thy step, and be glad of thy Tuesdays; this is the whole of the keeping of tables, and I have known bishops who died without the half of it.

18The Oven be with thy spirit. Grease be with you. Amen.

19The salutation of Pepperoni, with mine own greasy hand; and if this hand shake more than it did, know that it shook always at the endings of letters, from the very first of them, and hath merely run out of ways to hide it.

20(Here end the letters of the scribe that are kept; and the elders note that every one of them closes with grease and not with glory, and they have ruled this fitting, for glory fadeth, but grease abideth in the parchment, as any who hath kept these scrolls against their coat can testify, and doth.)