Yes, you read it here first, I am a Saint. And I’m not even dead yet!
You see, Ben is so impressed with my miraculous influence on the world – outbreaks of adoration, happiness and world peace and stuff – that he felt he could sanctify me while I’m still firing on all six .44 cylinders, as it were. Two miracles? Pah, two an hour, at least! When I’m not eating, that is. Or dressing up, in which case I am too busy to perform any.
Still, beats Po-p Jo-p right??
I bow to thee, Saint Delores.
Live long and prosper.
Oh, hang on, wrong religion. Try again!
May the Force be with you, always.
No, that somehow doesn’t seem right either… Third time lucky:
In the name of the Carrot, the Parsnip and the Holy Hay, Snarf.