"Your grace, his majesty is requesting your presence at the palace."
"Sigh. Alright," Pope Supdog replied with a sigh of resignation. "It's been weeks and our lord is still keeping silent."
"That is troubling news, your grace."
"I know. Tell his majesty I will be there in a tea's time."
"Yes, your grace."
Pope Supdog stood from his seated position with difficulty. He's been stuffing himself with delicious food and scrumptious wine, gaining quite a substantial amount of weight in the process.
"Ugh, someone get me some stomach medicine."
For three weeks, he ate and he ate, conversing with whoever comes into his praying chamber to perhaps please his God, Meteder. This was how to reach out towards Meteder specifically, an unorthodox manner of worship.
Pope Supdog carried himself to the palace immediately after taking a potty break.