"Do you hunger, Saint Merrin? Here, I give to you nectar and ambrosia, I give to you the food of your God!" croaked the demon. It excreted diarrhetically, mocking, "For this is my body! Now consecrate that, Saint Merrin!"
O Exorcist. Patron saint of possession, most iconic. Many a viceroy has come now, mimicking your monarch but I confess: they are all merely well-mannered pales, having one on you with their possessed girls and doubting priests, their body horror and murder. Though some strangely incorporate scenes in barns, sadly none have enough fantastical cussing. Most importantly, none have Linda Blair bellowing demonically about cocks in hell. Check: mate.
The Exorcist was strictly verboten in my house growing up. My mother refused to even talk about it, instead saying only, "It's evil." while maintaining a very clear position that I was never, ever to see it. Not never. Not like, you can't see Jaws, ever, until you're 13 and chaperoned by us. Never never. Unflinching. Glare and the sign of the cross at the mention. This is how serious some Catholics are about this movie, loyal to their Church who was mortified by its existence, and like any good Catholic, she would hatefully ignore the problem in the hope it would dissolve on its own.