Pencil on Paper
I grew up in a small town in the Bay of Plenty, called Kawerau. We had a priest there who had a profoundly formative effect on my attitudes to religion. He was a complete and utter bastard, and I'm an atheist. I heard a rumour (after I'd left Kawerau) that the local Catholic community banded together and raised a bunch of money to send the old prick back to Ireland. That's how deeply the surly, self-righteous, domineering old rosary-rattler was 'loved' in his parish. I expect he's dead by now. No great loss.
Oh, by the way, he didn't actually look very much like this, except on the inside.