Fear not those false words of the Dumb Bum Scribes for I, Brian the Wise art very well.

Haveth, do I, a small sticketh plaster upon my Holy Rump for did not the medicine man removeth piles from my crack!

Lo! Though it wereth dramatic - being carried unto the Theatre of Operations by six nubile young worshippers, with only a sheath covering thy Naked Holiness, nay wouldeth they let thee walk!

Lieth did thee, under the white lights, with green sheets covering most of Thy Holiness, looking up at sinister-looking green faces with two heads - FEAR NOT! Thee did sayeth unto Thyself and Lo! Thou did not fear! Of what they wereth doing I kneweth all!

"Away with ye, foul piles!" thee commandeth, 'caused thou art by those vile dumb bums who leaneth on thy doorbell!"

"Out! Damn Pile! Out!' thee cried once more and were they not gone! "A Miracle to behold!"

But for now thee doeth not look fabulous because shaveth thy cannot! Thee must away to thine barber for a poodle perm! Thee will returneth to former splendor about next Wednesday at 3 o'clock. And yea, more unwanted lumps shall thy medicine man taketh until thee hast none of the unwanted parts - ha ha!!