A Friend I Once Had, And The Dogmatic Principle

Sorry I've been away; I was on a trip to Madison, WI. Before I left, I had the distinct privilege of watching and celebrating with Fr. Fadi Thomas Maria Auro in his ordination to the priesthood (as I may have mentioned). Having been left to the tender mercies of the Cross children, I was, shall we say, inquisited as to the nature of my food selection. You might say it is highly selective. In any case, any number of ridiculous life-threatening scenarios was put forward, naturally involving the three foods I will not eat. They are eggs, onions, and most varieties of melted cheese. I realize that this is completely preposterous. [You eat pizza, after all.--ed.] Most pizza. In one, I was starving in a prison in Siberia. I foolishly conceded that I'd eat the egg if it was scrambled. This did little to appease my tormentors, who conjured ever more unlikely and unfortunate circumstances for me. Next, I was in the jungles of Bolivia, being chased by zombies. Of course the Zombie Apocalypse is upon us! I'm surprised you had to ask. I could either eat raw rat--and probably onions--or I could use my wheelchair power to power the deep-fryer that I miraculously had brought from Siberia. But if I do, the zombies will get me. Then we were in Egypt, and this time the zombies are dormant, owing to the garlic and onions stationed around the tombs. But Father Fadi, ever the servant, had moved the offending food out of my path and presumably my olfactory range, which of course summoned the zombies. Naturally, like supernatural charity inhering in the soul, one can ward them off by eating the food. Why did you doubt? [This is the best story ever.--ed.] I'm sure it is. But wait, it gets better! Finally, the trump card: What if dear Fadi became the Holy Father, and commanded me to eat an onion for the good of the Church? Or a whole omelet. Well then, I thought, I guess I'd have to do it. Yikes!