So anyway, the proselytizing dicksmack shouts about his hatred of The Gays (and Lady Gaga, which: Can't fault him there) for a lengthy period of time, ending his tirade with, "Someone has to speak for God!" On cue, My Godly Baboo materializes in the chapel aisle to challenge, "And who says you speak for God?" "You're wrong," Castiel states while the people in the pews pivot as one to stare at him. "I am utterly indifferent to sexual orientation." "On the other hand," Castiel darkly continues, "I cannot abide hypocrites like you." Pastor Dicksmack attempts to interrupt, but My Godly Baboo growls him down with a menacing, "Tell your flock where your genitals have been before you speak for me." Pastor Dicksmack gags -- go figure -- but eventually manages to splutter, "And who the heck are you?" "I'm God," Castiel reveals, to the congregation's general consternation. One of the faithful even rises to his feet to deliver an almighty smackdown upon Castiel's blasphemous ass, but My Godly Baboo's got that whole almighty-smackdown thing covered, thank you very much, and he telekinetically slams the guy back into his seat with such a vengeance that the pew splinters beneath the guy's behind. "VIOLENCE!" howls Raoul, already writhing about atop his overstuffed armchair with anticipatory delight over what's to come. "WANTON ACTS OF UNREPENTANT PEW-SPLINTERING VIOLENCE!" Dude. You're stretching it. "So are the darling little people responsible for this once-charming Friday-evening divertissement!" And that's another point to the dizzy lizard on the overstuffed armchair. "Hooray!"
In any event, startled babbling erupts amongst the remaining extras in the pews as My Godly Baboo advances upon Pastor Dicksmack to intone, "And he who lies in my name shall choke on his own false tongue, and his poisonous words shall betray him." With that, Pastor Dicksmack proceeds to choke on his own false tongue, attended by a minor frothing at the mouth, until he at long last face-plants into the carpeting, dead. "That's it?!" shrieks Raoul, feeling cheated, and I'm afraid so, my scaly friend. "Hmph!" Your sentiments are mine, oh faithful recapping companion -- I mean, couldn't they at least have the guy's head explode from all the vigorous choking, or something? "Hmph!" Oh, well -- best not to dwell on this particular disappointment when the oncoming season's certain to be full of them, am I right? "HMPH!" I'll take that as a yes.