Sir Robert attends the fascinated Doctor: "My father didn't treat it as a story; he said it was fact. He even claimed to have communed with the beast...to have learned its purpose." As Fr. Angelo is caught by something outside -- the rising moon -- Sir Robert casts his eyes down: "I should've listened." He glances around at Angelo and speaks faster: "His work was hindered; he made enemies. There's a monastery, in the Glen of Saint Catherine. The Brethren opposed my father's investigations." Victoria surmises that they found MacLeish's work "ungodly," which is funny considering that her precious Albert was ghostbustin' buddies with him. "That's what I thought," says the suddenly brave Robert. "But now I wonder, what if they had a different reason for wanting the story kept quiet?" And the Doctor realizes that he's able to say this because Fr. Angelo is wigging out, and chanting, and Robert asks the unaskable: "What if they turned from God, and worshipped the Wolf?" And the Doctor figures it out: "And what if they were with us right now?" And this is what Fr. Angelo is chanting at the moon: "Lupus deus est, lupus deus est." "The Wolf is God. The Wolf is God." (Bitch stole my refrain! Right chant, wrong Wolf.)
The doors of the cellar are thrown open with a clash, and the moon floods in and over the Wolf. He presses his face to the bars, delighting in the light. The householders stare as the Wolf sheds his cloak and grips the bars. Sometimes when you're stuck in jail with the Devil, it's still the Devil that sucks. "All of you, stop looking at it!" Rose screams, not interested in having to look at what's clearly coming next. "Flora, don't look. Listen to me. Grab hold of the chain and pull! Pull!" They pull at the chain as the growling begins, and Rose screams at her Ladyship, the lazy shit: "All of you! That means you! Pull!" And they pull, together, and the Wolf continues to groan, and to growl. The sun and the moon, the day and night: but why do they hurt? Because one follows the other and that's not a dance that ever stops; "the very source and fount of Day is dash'd with wandering isles of night." Because changing shape means shedding skin, and not the easy snaky kind, either, the kind that comes off in bloody strips: that's the truth about Wolves, Bad or otherwise, and that's Arizona. And the wolf goes on, in pain.
Fr. Angelo stands by the window, chanting, as everybody else freaks out about the revelation that they've been taken over by a ninja werewolf cult. Come on, like you could keep your cool. Reynolds pulls a gun on Sir Robert. Well, I think you could probably stay cooler than Captain Reynolds, but we already knew that. Sir Robert immediately begs the Queen's forgiveness, explaining that the Brethren have his wife Isobel. The Doctor shouts -- and not in his Scottish accent either -- at Fr. Angelo, demanding to know where Rose is. (Which is funny, because he's slipping out of his natural accent as an actor and into the fake accent of the girl he's talking about, which is all backwards in every way, because if their relationship were working right, as in the way the show has always worked, they'd both be Scottish by now.) Fr. Angelo ignores the Doctor, carries on chanting, and the Doctor drags Sir Robert out of the room to save their ladies. Captain Reynolds keeps his gun on Fr. Angelo. Who is a kung-fu ninja, but Reynolds is a dick, so we won't tell him.