My last meeting was in the basement of the po's house, with three men that were foaming at the mouth, trying to get rid of me before I could do anymore damage to the neat little financial empire they had created using the "truth" as a front.
Half way through the lynching, I stood up, told them all to take a flying f**k off a short pier, and left. My insistence on exposing them, ended with me receiving the coveted Apostate title several years later.
I never succeeded in exposing the scam, but of the 3 that "tried" me, two died from alchohol related illness, and the third is cancer ridden, and house-bound.
I guess nature pays back in it's own way.
S