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Setting: an Ecclesiarchy chapel on some ship somewhere in the Imperial Navy
Priest: That will be all for today, my children. Go in the peace and love of our most blessed Emperor.
<The congregation shuffles out, save for one Sister of Battle in fervent prayer in the front pew.>
Priest: <sits next to the Sister quietly, a mischievous look in his eyes> Good evening, Sister Matella.
Sister: <awakes from prayerful trance> G-good evening, father. Is there something you need?
Priest: ...Well, as a matter of fact, Sister, there *is* something I desire from you. Something... special.
Sister: <blushes, curious> F-father?
Priest: <inches closer, passionately> Because, at the end of the day, all Emperor-fearing men of the Imperium- be they a humble Guardsman, a cleric, or a perfectly average layperson- needs a little something to keep them fighting the good fight. Something only a very special woman can provide.
Sister: <excited> Oh, Father! How could you *ever* talk of such things... a man of the cloth, in his very chapel! Well, I suppose there's no use fighting it, you've got me cornered... <starts to disrobe>
Priest: Whatever are you talking about? The priest's home needs a cook to fill in this week, our food servitor broke down last Tuesday and the replacement hasn't arrived yet...
Sister: <sighs> Yes, Father.