Preacher to the masses, Mr. Morality can be seen day and night expressing his views on a busy street corner in your city. He is typically dressed up in a retro suit and tie combination that he’s owned since his teens, and bellows his message through a duct-taped PA system. Whether he’s promoting the teachings of Jesus Christ, warning of governmental conspiracy, or advocating the use of jimmy caps to avoid catching “the Hiv”, he is guaranteed to have an informational cardboard sign that looks like a 3rd grader made it. The only exception to this rule is if he and his cohorts are protesting abortion, in which case there will be at least a dozen huge, professionally-printed banners revealing every detail of a discarded fetus. Having just upchucked the Chipotle you ate for lunch, this is the only time you actually want to punch Mr. Morality right in the balls.
There are a couple of key questions people often wonder about Mr. Morality. The first is: Is he sane or a bit cuckoo? On one hand you’d think someone would have to be all there to be able to communicate so clearly and passionately about a subject. On the other hand, one must also be nuts to do so every single day in front of a passing audience that would rather hear Roseanne Barr repeatedly sing “I’m a Little Teapot”. The whole thing’s somewhat of a mystery, but do not under any circumstance stop Mr. Morality’s sermon to perform your own sanity checks or you’ll receive the evil eye and be showered with heathen fireballs from God.
The second question you may ponder is: How does Mr. Morality make money if he’s preaching all day without a collection plate? Simple. He makes millions filming motivational healing seminars that air at 3 in the morning. You’ve seen them – he enthusiastically spits jibberish at the paralytic before him who then passes out and miraculously wakes up doing an Irish jig. The fact that he’s filthy rich yet still spending his days on the streets with us common folk is further proof that he’s a few pumps short of a pregnancy.
Frequently heard saying: “Put down the Playboy, pick up a Bible!”
Last seen: Polishing his microphone on the subway.