Letter to the Onionfield Purveyor: "There are podia-vangelists in my neighborhood!"

Dear Sir [Editor of the Onionfield Purveyor]:

There is a growing pestilence of foot-born podia-vangelists roaming around Onionfield neighborhoods. They travel in pairs seem to have some sort of knuckle-upon-door fetish, because they go from house to unanswering house, knocking on doors until their craven hearts are satisfied.

Since they come around at approximately 10 a.m. on workdays, there are obviously few people home, so actually speaking to citizens is not the focus of these podia-vangelists. I refer to these beings as such because they carry under their arms leatherbound books with gold-gilt edged pages. If these are not Bibles, then they are the most luxurious dictionaries I've ever seen (spied through a side window as I wait for them to depart my stoop).

I have not chanced answering my own door upon the sound of their depraved knocking because I believe in the urban legends surrounding the fates of those who interrupt fetishists as they seek to satisfy their subterranean deviance. I refuse to risk being turned into a pillar of salt, or having a hump spontaneously emerge upon my back.

Would the Onionfield Purveyor please send a team of its crack investigative journalists to get to the bottom of these strange, ritualistic convergences upon innocent, snow-pillowed neighborhoods in the Proud Town of Onionfield?