Worship, Do Not Worship: The Toad Cares Not
(Who was St. Remedius? And why is a medical college named after him?)
Contrary to popular perception, the city of Dallas, Texas has always maintained a deep respect for religions of all kinds…so long as they paid proper tribute to the one true god of the Dallasites. This extended to the most unlikely places, such as the sheer number of indigenous vampires as likely to be repelled by forcefully displayed Dobbsheads as crucifixes. This also extended much further into Dallas’s past than commonly thought: shortly after the Harkun built their first cities along the great intercontinental seaway then connecting the Gulf of Mexico to Hudson Bay in the mid-Cretaceous, they proudly and without compassion wiped out every one of their deities in furious combat, only engaging in what others would call religious practices as a warning to other gods to avoid attempting outreach to the Harkun if they wanted to avoid the same outcome. This helps explain why the greatest cult in Dallas’s history was also the one that left the least impact when it disappeared. Today, the Annals of St. Remedius Medical College discusses the Cult of the Cane Toad.
What is known for certain was that the Cane Toad was real: a gigantic toad square in the center of space-time, staring out at the cosmos with great golden and rarely blinking eyes. What’s also certain is that the Toad never asked for worship, never granted boons to its worshippers, and never demanded or even appreciated sacrifices. A being able to swallow stars every time it flicked its tongue would never notice anything so small as a human. In return, worshippers had no concerns of their god expecting exceptional effort in return for its protection: no wars against infidels, no censorship of heretical concepts, no pissing matches over being more pious than everyone else. The Toad gave nothing and expected nothing, and its followers reflected the Toad’s priorities.
In many ways, this was the perfect religion for Dallas. Toad Cultists rarely hyped their faith, but usually left concrete or metal toads by their front doors to signal their allegiance. Their religious practices were sparse: a traditional chicken-fried steak dinner on the fourth Friday of every month, turning off all bug zappers every Tuesday, skateboarding into traffic on weekends, rolling in sacred bluebonnet patches each spring. In return for their dedication, the Toad reciprocated: so long as they stayed at a distance, they wouldn’t be eaten whenever the Toad deigned to dine. Toad Cultists became focuses of attention solely by refusing to do so: Toad Cultists were happy to sit in school and corporate cafeterias with Cane Toad T-shirts under formal wear, not evangelizing, not converting, and often not bothering to explain the Toad at all. “It’s just, you know, THERE, you know?” may have been inadequate as a statement of faith as with other religions, but for the Cult of the Cane Toad, it worked.
Shortly before the disappearance of St. Remedius Medical College, the Toad left as well. Its reasons were as inscrutable as its entire existence, and it left no message, to followers or anyone else, as to where it went. Its followers didn’t rebel, didn’t revolt, didn’t scream or throw things or attempt to overthrow their governments. Seemingly as if they all received the same notice at the same time, every Toad cultist moved their statues to their back porches or to a nearby park, took off their Toad shirts and jewelry and hid them at the bottom of sock cabinets or junk drawers, and went on with life. Coworkers and fellow students asking why they were no longer Toad cultists just received strange looks and responses of “What the hell are you talking about?” And life continued.
What nobody knew until the climax of the Quantum War was that the Toad had a plan, and the Cultists had a plan. They just had no interest in sharing with anybody else until the time was just right. Patience was the tastiest sauce.
And while you’re at it, the request lines are now open, complete with playlist.
Want to get caught up on the St. Remedius story so far? Check out the main archive. Want more hints as to the history of St. Remedius Medical College? Check out Backstories and Fragments. Want to forget all of that and look at cat pictures from a beast who dreams of his own OnlyFans for his birthday? Check out Mandatory Parker. Questions, concerns, and disgust over generative AI? Check out Contact, Privacy Policy, and AI Policy. And feel free to visit the St. Remedius Medical College Redbubble shop for all of your Mandatory Parker needs.
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