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"Praise be unto the Holy Potato, and all of it's signs." intones the choir. "Praise be unto the Holy Well, the sign of this Kingdom." responds his Eminence, Crushita, the Potato Pope. Among the soaring rafter of the Cathedral of the Holy Tuber, an Archbishop was about to be created.

"Almighty Potato, who by thy many gifts did give to thy holy Spudpostles many excellent virtues, and did charge them to water your fields: Give grace, we ask of you, to all Bishops, the Pastors of this Church, that they may diligently preach you Word." he said, and the masses heard.

In the Name of the Holy Potato, Amen. I, Mathyland, chosen Archbishop of the Church of Wintreath, do profess and promise all due reverence and obedience to the Potato Pope and to the Church of the Holy Potato, and to their Successors: So help me Spud.

"Most merciful Potato, we ask you to send down upon your servant, your starchy blessing; and so endue him with the Holy Starch, that he, preaching the Word, may not only be earnest to reprove, beseech, and rebuke with all patience and doctrine; but also may be to such as believe a wholesome example, in word, in conversation, in love, in faith, in chastity, and in purity; that, faithfully fulfilling his course, at the latter day he may receive the crown of righteousness laid up by the Holy Potato. Amen."