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Grand High Inquisitor Frizzy yawned, and tapped his scepter on the ground. "You have been brought here," he barked, "because you are to be purified."

Sitting on the ground before Grand High Frizzy the fox were three figures. Antoine, a large and roughly-built cougar, was sporting a new bruise above his left eye, and the rope binding his large paws behind his back was biting fiercely. What made him even less cheerful, he had to admit, was the pink floral dress he was wearing at that moment. He glared out of the corner of his eye at Bernard. It was, of course, all Bernard's idea to dress up as women and try to slip across the border.

Pacing triumphantly through the silent, echoing antechamber, the Grand High Inquisitor motioned with his staff. "You lowly fools. Why, oh why, would you dare to defy the will of the Great One?"

Frizzy. There were legends about that man. A tall, wild-eyed wolf appointed by the highest of all furry Gods to spread the word. Of course, spreading the word in this case meant finding whoever didn't already worship said God, and kicking them in the goolies for a few hours. It was all entirely in the best intention, of course.

Frizzy poked Bernard in the chest with the toe of his boot. "You, young one. Tell me, what has lead you from the faith? What vile lies have these unbelievers whispered into your ear? Tell me now - Why do you refuse to bow in worship to the great and mighty "Oh My God Put It In Me" Fox?"

Antoine had known Bernard since they were children. He respected the husky, naturally, and when Bernard had told him that the Inquisition were on their way, burning heathens as they went, the two had decided to skip across the border. "It'll be easy" Bernard had said, "Just you, me and Gemma. Now put your wig on and sway your hips when you walk." Antoine, who was built as if he was a brick wall, found that somewhat difficult. Especially with those damn heels.

Sometimes, Antoine thought he was surrounded by crazy people. The idea of two male furs dressed in frilly blonde wigs and pink dresses sneaking across the border might have worked. He didn't understand though why Bernard had insisted that Gemma, a bucky young female ferret, dress up in Antoine's usual clothes. Well of course they were caught. Not just because the best impression of a woman that Antoine could do was not farting while he walked. Not just that, but possibly because Gemma, like most female furs, had ludicrously oversized breasts. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more flat-out stupid the idea had been.

He wanted to kick Bernard now. And, were the three of them not tied together on the ground of an old cathedral and under the firm eyes of the Grand High Inquisitor Frizzy, he would have. Frizzy was, to be blunt, pretty nuts about spreading the word of The "Oh My God Put It In Me" Fox.

This particular religion had sprung up almost overnight, several decades before. The entire world had quickly come to the realization of certain undeniable truths - gravity goes downwards, fruit goes sour when you leave it out, and all fox furs spend most of their days bend over their beds screaming "Oh My God Put It In Me" over and over. And then, one night, Mad Frankie McCrazy had a dream. In this dream, a giant golden fox the size of the entire universe was bending over Frankie's bed, screaming "Oh My God Put It In Me". When Frankie woke up the next morning, the second thing he did was to record the entire dream in a book. The first thing he did is best left to the imagination.

This book was quickly adopted by the drooling masses, which as it turned out, could be divided easily into two categories - foxes who liked to have things put into them, and various others who liked to put things into foxes. Slowly growing from this small grass-roots cult, entire villages soon fell into the sway of the rather unique belief. It all made perfect sense, of course - people were happy to put things into the foxes, and the foxes were very happy. Everyone had a place in the universe. All was well.

So naturally, the followers wanted to share this great message. Two people stepped forward with ideas. John Johnson theorized that the best way to do this would be to print out a lot of leaflets and drop them into people's mailboxes. Tom Tomson theorized that this would just annoy people, and it would be easier to just hit them with a large plank of wood with a nail in it. At this meeting, young Vincent Furrytummy suggested that both ideas were pretty bad, and was promptly sentenced to be burned at the stake for blasphemy.

As a result, or perhaps because of this, soon the entire nation held worship to the "Oh My God Put It In Me" Fox. Churches were erected, with many gilded statues of foxes bending over in the most curious positions were placed at the altars of these churches. It was decreed that all loyal worshippers should bone a fox at least twice each day. Within a year, every heterosexual fox had voluntarily immigrated to neighboring countries. Doctors were inundated with complains of sprains and overworked organs. And above all, it was just bloody stupid.

Antoine had seen communion taken at church once. It took the rest of the day to clean the gilded fox statue. He just couldn't shake the idea of how stupid this was.

"So what are you planning to do?" spat Gemma. Antoine winced. Gemma wasn't the kind of girl to keep things to herself. "Whatever it is, we can take it. Do your worst!"

Grant High Inquisitor Frizzy laughed. "My worse? Hah! My dear girl, you have no idea what my worst is. You lowly worms, who have never in your life felt the beloved mark of sacred anal leakage, you are unworthy! But the great high "Oh My God Put It In Me" Fox will accept you. Even you, Bernard."

Bernard hissed. "I keep telling you, I'm straight! I am not, not, not going to bone that thing!"

Antoine sighed. "Look, Mister Inquisitor. This is obviously some serious psychological confusion going on. I mean, does it really matter so much in the scheme of things?"

Frizzy spat, and prodded the scepter right into Antoine's chest, causing the bear to intake a heavy gasp of breath. The bear noticed that the end of the scepter tapered into a smooth, curved foot-long end, and winced. He didn't want to ask.

"Of course it matters, fool!" spat Frizzy. "Our entire society, our whole culture, is built on the backbone of our faith..."

"But it's only been around for twenty years!" argued Antoine, "It's crazy!"

Without hesitation, the Grand High Inquisitor snapped the end of the scepter across Antoine's head. The bear's head shot back, thumping hard into Bernard's own skull, which in turn knocked Gemma for six. "Do not speak back to me!" he hissed.

Gathering his senses, Antoine sighed. "We used to be a great nation! We created arts, we had vibrant culture. There used to be a theater right here, we had plays and novelists. Now all we export are pictures of foxes getting things shoved into them!"

Gemma hissed, "And that's different from the rest of the furry world how exactly?"

The Grand High Inquisitor stepped back. He strode around the group, his boots echoing against the cold ceramic floor. He let the scepter drop to the floor, and fixed Antoine with a glare. "You, my friend, are impetuous. There is but one thing left to do."

The box had remained sitting quietly in the corner of the antechamber until now, a thin layer of dust on its surface. As Frizzy opened it, Antoine's mind rushed. He had heard about this before, a great and most deadly method of punishment for heretics. The church had authorized its creation almost ten years ago, and in those days its use had to be ratified. Nowadays, the paperwork could slide, so long as it gave results. And those results were guaranteed. "No," he whimpered, "Not that!"

The Grand High Inquisitor turned back to the group, the artifact now resting in his arms. It was very nearly half as tall as the Inquisitor itself, and he almost struggled. He set it down on the floor, before the quaking group. "Behold Thor," he spoke, "And with it you too shall be cleansed."

* * *

"So I'll see you tomorrow then?" asked Bernard.

Antoine nodded, "You can count on it. It's a lovely day, isn't it?"

Bernard nodded, "It sure is. We should give our thanks to the Fox for this lovely sunlight. Soon the crops will grow."

Antoine nodded. Somewhere in his memory, he seemed to recall something, something about Bernard and himself. That once, before last week, things had been different. They had even talked differently in those days, hadn't they? Less stiltedly, at least.

Antoine nodded, "Yes, let's offer a prayer. We thank you for the sunlight, marvelous "Oh My God Put It In Me" Fox."

Bernard nodded, and gave a forced smile. "By the way, I like what you've done with the wheelchair. I like the red ribbons."

Antoine nodded. It seems that they both did that a lot. Whenever someone spoke, that is. It all felt so strange. He didn't remember having a wheelchair before last week. But then, he couldn't remember anything before that week. Not really. Only a large white flash and a peculiar sensation.

Bernard nodded also, his eyes cloudy. "The doctor said that I'll be able to walk on my own in a few months."

Antoine smiled. "Really? That's brilliant news" he replied, and silently gave a prayer to the "Oh My God Put It In Me" Fox.