KOOL-AID: right. so the plan

Another instalment of Almost Drank the Kool-Aid…

No. Have not abandoned plan to rid self of church retribution, even with discovery of Landlord’s Parkinson’s and his feelings about that.

(side note: is he depressed? Should I be speaking to someone about it? Requesting he gets help? Sneak B group vitamins into his meals which, yes, does work. Am not going to deny the benefits just because is a practise of the church. Landlord’s anger towards my accidental attempt of vanquishing my life now understandable. He has death on the horizon. Saw me as a fool to give it up so easily. Anyway. Is perhaps a thought for another day.)

Much texting and emailing to Gruff who has agreed to help me. Likes the idea of telling church to go fuck themselves seen if is on my behalf.

A lot of research required. Bank statements and the like. Fuck was boring. Cannot abide numbers. To be truthful, can’t abide money. At least, can’t abide having to worry about it. When all kicked off with me asked Gruff if would mean worrying about money. He told me yes, as long as don’t go crazy buying Lamborghini’s and Hampstead Heath mansions, would be fine. Said to him — what if was to buy a Birkin? Would I have to worry about money then? Gruff didn’t know what a Birkin was so had to explain was the Lamborghini of handbags. He said would be fine provided Birkin’s did not cost as much as Lamborghini. When told him cost of Birkin he threatened to have me sectioned so could take control of money so would never waste it buying a Birkin. Yet after I started getting photographed Gruff realised was probably good for the image if was seen to be successful enough to afford a Birkin. So got me a Birkin. Was taken away from me a few years later, mind. Couldn’t include that as part of the message to the church. No proof.

But there was proof of all the “donations” given to the church in the five years prior to “admittance” to the “clergy.” Yes, notice the quotation marks. Hardly donations, as they were a requirement to stay in the church. Hardly admittance, because they left me with no other option after was bled dry to such a degree I found self in foreign country. And clergy? Give me a break. Slaves is what we were.

So. Documenting proof time consuming. Helped by Gruff and his dominatrix assistant who for some reason I trust. She is also far more thorough than Gruff or I.

Once all of that was put together Gruff made appointment with church officials. Granted an audience because he mentioned my name.

Now. This all very important. Could not be done in writing. Can’t blackmail in writing.

So Gruff met with them and was all very clock and dagger; told him it had to be. He didn’t believe is as bad as all that. But is. Definitely is.

Told Gruff before meeting to throw phone into Thames. Yes, Thames, and to communicate with me on burner phone only. Will not mention where that is kept.

Ahead of meeting he was to tell church officials to leave mobiles behind. Met them at St James’s park. Near duck pond where lots of kids, joggers and such like milling about. Was no way discussion would happen in their office. With hidden microphones and cameras about.

When Gruff met with ‘suited fuckers’ he frisked them. Shocked, they were! And, would you believe it, one of them had a dictaphone in his sock! Told Gruff, told him! (dictaphone got thrown in pond. Gruff assures me no ducks were harmed. Though he said nothing about the pelicans. As a fellow Aussie Gruff probably fears pelicans as much as I do. We all have that one horror story when it comes to those fecking large-beaked birds.)

Gruff hands over documentation of all the monies I have wasted on the church over the years. Told the suited folk it far exceeded what they said I owed but because I was nice person (am sure he choked on these words) I was prepared to call it even.

Smug bastards actually had the audacity to laugh.

Gruff then told them there would be no recourse.

More laughter.

Because, Gruff informed them, I had spent the last few months of my incarceration in the church (outbursts from both men. She wasn’t incarcerated!) gathering evidence.

Silence. Finally one asked, ‘what evidence?’

Gruff told them. He then repeated what he thought was the most ridiculous of all my pronouncements. But he doesn’t know.

Gruff told them should anything happen to me, it gets released. Should a derogatory website be made about me, it gets released.

Gruff said the suits looked scared.

As I predicted, they requested a meeting with me. Gruff informed them it was impossible — he didn’t know where I was.

But then how did he know where to forward the invoice? They wondered.

Gruff told them I had approached him. Because was expecting invoice.

They, of course, pleaded with Gruff to notify them immediately should I make contact. Gruff said he expected me to never make contact again.

Now. Can we all guess what happened after this meeting? The next day, while at work, Gruff’s flat was broken into. Turned upside down. Which, of course, would have been mortifying for Gruff. He likes his order.

Nothing was taken.

Was still busy cleaning the next morning when dominatrix assistant rang. Office had been turned over, too.

Police actually asked — who the fuck did you piss off, mate?

Feel terrible, terrible that all of this happened because of me. Feel terrible that Gruff had to learn the extent of church’s evilness first hand.

After Gruff relayed all of this to me on burner phone, I texted him my apology. I then texted that we should no longer have contact. Is too risky.

And so, like before, Gruff has to go on pretending I don’t exist.

Am already on edge. Know now no expense will be spared to find me. High alert is an understatement. Have poked the bear. Should probably stop writing this. But they stopped me writing for all of those years. They’re not going to do it now. This is my testimony. If I stop posting — you know why. It means they’ve found me.

Let the games begin.

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