Dear members of the Church,
If you feel like sliding back a bit and worming around your religion’s doctrine of cast iron chastity (and no one besides Bill Donohue will blame you for that), at least be professional about it. If one of you feels too ugly and unable to find a girl, come to me. In exchange for an organ of yours that medical experts say doesn’t even exist, I’ll do what I do best and spruce up your saggy, aging mug and throw in a wonderful singing voice as a bonus. After I’m done, women will be tearing their limbs off and throwing them in your direction just to touch you.
Or, if you feel that spending an eternity in a fictional lake of fire is too much of a commitment to make and want to play things cheap, visit a brothel. Hell, you’re all practically sugar daddies anyway. Just look at all that dough in the Vatican.
But leave the children alone. It’s not like evil doesn’t already have enough of a stigma attached to it. Take their candy, if you want, but don’t take something from them when they’re too young to understand what they’re giving. Come on man, that’s low even for me. And don’t forget that I’m the one who once convinced an ancient Palestinian to run around naked in front of Jesus (you should have seen his face).
Oh, and FYI: People tend to despise you all the more for threatening your victims with hellfire if they do as they should and report your questionable behavior. People are going to find out anyway, so try not to stand in the hole while you dig.