Recently Sylvanus was privileged to be granted an audience by the distinguished Alabama preacher and card-carrying bigot, the Rev. Richard ‘Call me Dick’ Hedde of the Capiscopalean Mission of St Gavin the Butch.

As most people may know, the Rev. Hedde has come to worldwide attention just lately with his somewhat quixotic views on homosexuality.

And he has claimed to have ‘cured’ a vast number of so-called confirmed gays by his controversial methods.

But never one to be intimidated by dogmatic righteousness, I took the long view and decided to give the reverend his head (metaphorically speaking) and hear what he had to say by way of explanation.

I began by asking him for a rundown on a typical case study: The reverend (aka Call me Dick) smirked patronisingly and replied that a typical ‘cure’ could be best illustrated in the case of a young man from Tallahassee, Florida.

This youth apparently minced into the reverend’s consulting rooms one day and lisped that he wished to be cured of his homosexuality. And – after just five sessions (at four grand a time) this same young man strode manfully out of the building, found himself a (female) wife and has so far fathered nine children in wedlock (and three outside it)... a complete success.

Sounds impressive... right?

So, I asked the reverend for details of exactly what his methods of ‘curing’ a gay ‘patient’ comprise. At first he seemed reluctant to give me salient details, citing patient confidentiality, but after a few more whisky sours he opened up to me like a spring daisy.

Apparently, when a homosexual person first visits the reverend, he has to make a solemn declaration that he is willing to undergo the ‘cure’... and all it entails. Once this has been secured – in writing, (and his bank details authenticated) the process begins.

First of all, the ‘patient’ and the reverend undertake a period of deep and meaningful contemplation. As he put it: “Where we hold hands and commune with the spirits.” (He didn’t say which spirits, I suspect whisky sours).

After one week of treatment the patient should experience a noticeable change in his or her sexual preferences

Then he takes a few minutes to inform the poor deluded chap that his sexual orientation is not only wrong, it is also akin to being very, very rude.

Having established this, he then prepares for the most effective phase of the ‘conversion’ process. He proffers to the poor unfortunate a potion which the as yet ‘uncured’ person must take. One tablespoonful after meals, thrice daily for as long as it takes.

As a special favour to me, the reverend broke down the constituents of this potion in these words: “Place into a stainless steel cocktail shaker half a cup of unripened green lemons, precisely eight grammes of rhinoceros dung, (frozen will do fine), one peeled Swedish anchovy fillet, (it must be Swedish), one tablespoonful of weapons grade Semtex, the pituitary gland from a virgin female giraffe (most of us have these lying around in the fridge at home), one gil of flat lagerand a teaspoonful of crushed Viagara.

Shake them all together in the shaker... taking extra care not to over shake the Semtex, then set aside and allow to brew and mature for three days.

After one week of treatment the patient should experience a noticeable change in his or her sexual preferences.

After two weeks he – if indeed it is a he – should start buying Playboy and leering at photos of ladies bosoms.

After approximately four weeks treatment he may be considered ‘cured’.

Indeed, in no time at all the former patient will begin dating ladies of the female persuasion, leading to engagement, marriage and inevitably procreation.

The reverend stressed that the ‘cured’ homo would then receive all the benefits of, what he termed, a normal existence.

All gay thoughts banished from his mind, never to return.

And – as due reward for following faithfully the Rev. Hedde’s ‘cure’, the rehabilitated former gay would receive a framed selfie of the reverend shaking hands with Malta’s very own homosexuality exorcist, the Rev. Munchey.

Yes right. I’m not gay myself, but I think that would be infinitely preferable to getting that photo.