A Pet Care Manual

Congratulations, queer person! You have just purchased your first four-inch homophobic Christian fundamentalist preacher! Homophobic Christian fundamentalist preachers make delightful pets—provided they remain four or less inches in height. Otherwise, they create all sorts of trouble, merging with homophobic Christian fundamentalist presidents to create a nation-state dedicated to world domination and the extinction of human rights.

That is why we here at “Fist-On.Org” have developed our own post-electoral, thoroughly scientific method of dealing with this right-wing menace. Our motto: “If ya can’t beat ‘em, shrink ‘em and sell ‘em as pets!”

What better way to observe their frolicsome antics while avoiding hard time in queer detention centers? So enjoy your miniature preacher –and look for our line of tiny, bio-engineered senators, representatives and presidential cabinet members, coming soon to pet shops near you!

Getting Acquainted

Your homophobe preacher has never been four inches tall before; neither has it ever found itself screaming for help inside a glass fruit jar with holes punched in the lid. It will therefore feel a tad frightened and mistrustful at first, and may rend its little preaching garment in a droll sort of despair, just like a real biblical character, whoever that was.

When you arrive home, your pet will likely be all tuckered out from damning you to eternal hell. So place your pet gently inside its cage and allow it to rest for a few hours in a quiet, darkened room. Give it plenty of fresh water and some castor oil in its treat cup. Be sure and leave newspaper on the bottom of its cage. Old issues of Gay City News work well.


Some people prefer to have their pets professionally groomed. You can groom yours yourself, however, in the privacy of your own home, and save big bucks, by using simple modern appliances. An ordinary kitchen blender, for instance, can provide a stimulating whirlpool bath. For a liberating steam room experience, try immersing your preacher for two to three minutes in a heated pressure cooker. Pat dry.

Now, it is time for “defrocking.” Get your pet out of those drab clerical togs and into a gold lamé tank top and pedal pushers from your sister’s old Barbie collection. Add a little hair ribbon, plus a few tiny band-aids, et voila!—has Armageddon ever looked cuter?

Taming Your Preacher

There is a popular myth that four-inch homophobic preachers are difficult to tame. Nothing could be further from the truth. Moving slowly and quietly, so as not to startle your pet, reach into its cage and ask it to perch on your finger. Chances are your preacher will respond with hurtful religious epithets it parroted in seminary: “Godhatesfags, Godhatesfags, auauck,” or “Polly Want a Rapture.”

It is now time to discipline your pet. Grasping its torso firmly between the thumb and forefinger of your left hand, bring the little fellow out of its cage. Now, gently crush its nose with the thumb of your right hand. Religious enlightenment will follow.

Fun With Your Pet

Now you are ready to play! Tie your preacher to a roller skate and push it down the stairs! Drench it with water guns! Chase it around the house with a vacuum cleaner! Or take your preacher to school and use it in your next science project! They’re so cute, trying to decide which lever releases the pellet and which delivers the electric shock.


Always return your pet to its cage and secure the door tightly when you are finished playing. And make sure the cage is made of reinforced steel. Homophobe preachers have been known to gnaw through bars of lesser metal and get lost for weeks inside attics, basements, old Frigidaires. Nothing is more repulsive than seeing the wheezing head of some tiny fundamentalist pop out from an old furnace vent, its tongue all blackened and dangling. They really make a mess, too, if you step on them in your Doc Martens.

Funny Pet Stories

Miniature preacher owners have been busy on the Internet, regaling one another with the astonishing feats of their little charges:

Brother Angus, a 57-year-old evangelist, was left behind when its family moved 478 miles away. It showed up a year later, dressed as Mel Gibson in “Braveheart,” and tried to murder everyone with a cheese grater.

Reverend Ferd, former head of the Nebraska chapter of the Church of the Latter Day Bigots, was stolen from its cage by the Radical Faeries and crowned Queen of the May at a Wee Folke orgy, where it acquired a nasty case of the clap. The Faeries later sentenced Reverend Ferd to life in prison for lynching a troll who, the reverend alleged, had made sexual advances.

Godboy, a newly acquired four-inch preacher, won kudos when it correctly diagnosed a treatable STD on its owner’s private parts. Godboy attributed its medical acumen to its frequent use as a sex toy.


Ridiculous urban legends abound of queers who, tired of their tiny preachers, flushed their pets down their toilets, only to have them grow into gigantic reptiles, return through the plumbing, and bite off their owners’ genitalia. Ha ha ha!

These stories are absolutely true. If your pet has lost its appeal, please do not flush it down your toilet. Neither should you give it to live bait shops, as this could introduce harmful toxins into our lakes and streams. The most ecological thing to do is to return your preacher to our laboratories, where we will convert it to fundamentalist Islam, dress it in bin Laden attire and donate it to deserving secular Muslim queers.