Sorry, y'all, but I haven't been able to respond till now because I have been incapacitated, lying on the floor convulsed in hysterical laughter at the mental image of these various handshakes.
Were we to engage in such "secret" salutations they wouldn't be secret for very long, I am telling you.
I suppose if I had to endure the pain involved in some of these, well, there are many things I might do for my Lard and Savioretta, Her Most Divine Noodliness; however, getting carted off to jail for doing a Michael Jackson in a public (nay, pubic) place does not seem a good way to convert followers.
On the third or fourth hand, I suppose the early Christian martyrs went to much greater lengths to attract a following, but then I suppose that might be why I am not a Christian.
Blessed be, ye wenches and mateys.