[Mrs. Rogers]

I endure constant persecution at the hands of my homosexual neighbours ... Stuart and Andrew? Or is it Anthony? I think that's what their names are anyway, I haven't bothered to commit their details to memory. They are forever rubbing their groin-centered lifestyle in my face, greeting me with cheery "Hello, Mrs. Rogers!" whenever they see me, smiling at me -- I believe this is a method of mockery homosexuals employ when dealing with Christians.

The very worst persecution event took place last year: I was walking home after church, and as I rounded the corner into my street I could see one of them outside the front of their house, gardening. So I quickened my pace in order to get past him before he could see me ... however, I tripped and took a nasty fall just by their front gate. Satan was particularly powerful that day, as I became quite confused and disoriented. The homosexual, mocking me with phony concern, helped me to my feet and insisted that I come in for a cup of tea. Being in a weakened state, both mentally and physically, I had not the will to refuse.

I remember very little regarding the interior of their home, except that it was deceptively ordinary; I had to keep visualising the sort of antics they get up to when alone, as it was important that I not lose sight of the fact their house was a den of depravity. The cup of tea was very good though, but I believe this was another form of persecution: I am of the opinion that the best cups of tea are made by Christians, for Christians, and this dreadful man was deliberately tearing my world apart with his Earl Grey. How DARE he! So I quickly downed the tea and left.

However, I am glad that their persecution of me is so obvious, so blatant; being the trusting and gentle soul that I am, it would be difficult to detect and deal with subtler forms of persecution.