Hellbenders

Father?

Father?

Father?

There is your goddamn evidence.

Is it over?

The light! Give me the light!

Heavenly God!

We are fucked.

No, no, no. You can ask me anything you like.

So, we're here to talk about exorcism.

I beg your pardon?

Exorcism.

Exorcism is extremely rare.

A ritual that requires training and faith

and the authorization of a bishop.

But let's not confuse faith with superstition.

It is impossible to deny the existence of demonic phenomenon.

As much as we try to shuffle off on brain chemistry or psychology,

demons move among us.

This is fact.

No, no, no, no.

The idea that debauchery and evil

can be confronted and defeated

by greater debauchery and evil is heresy.

Any rumors of some sort of team of hell bound exorcists are just that.

They simply do not exist.

So, yeah. The Pope is dead. He was a pious guy.

No idea who the new boss will be,

and how it will roll down on the parish.

You're a dog.

Page four news. Ain't that some shit?

Sad state of the world, man.

Hope Angus doesn't let it ruin his birthday.

We really wanted to go whole hog this year.

You know, tie one on, drag it around until it is dead.

Angus loves cake like a fat kid,

so I got to get him a cake.

Problem is, cake ain't exactly a sin.

A little bit of gluttony maybe,

but that is some candy-ass sinning.

Hey! That's mine.

That's my paper.

Oh, it's cool. I will get it back to you.

But it's mine. You just can't...

Hey, you want to come down here and fucking do something about it?

Father! I ain't your fucking dad!

You do not mess with a man of God.

But I found this place you can get cake

that ain't just some bullshit cardboard thing, but an actual cake.

With a stripper jumping out of it,

which makes it a sinful cake

and puts us on the work budget.

Hi, Miss Rainey.

Wow, look at that.

Is the girl inside already?

No, she doesn't get in until the party.

Mmm.

What are you up to?

You know, a little lust.

Little sloth.

Cool. Little envy on this end.

We had sex once.

Once. Ages ago.

Eleven months ago on Tuesday.

It was my second night here.

It was a passionless affair.

First time I tried crack.

Guys! I am trying to concentrate here.

I'm married. Penelope, my wife...

I mean, we are mad about each other. Like teenagers, really.

I am going to be sick.

Hey, babe.

I was going to fry some eggs.

Do you want some eggs? I want to go home.

Mmm.

What's good, Erik?

I wasn't doing anything.

That's cool.

Oh, my God. I hate him so much.

I hate Larry so much.

Like Nazi cancer hate.

Can you believe that Elizabeth had sex with him?

Him? Fuck!

That's so messed up.

Expenditures have to match transgression,

especially with a new Holy Father.

I mean, we have all been falling behind.

I don't think any of us are damnation ready except for Angus and I.

You? You're more damnation ready than me?

Yes, sure I am.

How do you figure?

I mean, look, gluttony, wrath, pride.

You're pretty solid, but you've got one count...

One count of lust.

Granted, you were cheating on your wife, but it's over a year old.

That's not going to fly, Larry. You can't go to hell...

Speak of the devil.

Yeah, this applies to you too, Elizabeth.

Last six months, you have been here for some gluttony, pretty constant mast...

Mast... You know, just all sorts of stuff.

Nothing serious. You are still new here...

I am a woman and you're a Catholic,

everything I do is a sin.

How are you sinning more than me, huh?

You are not going to pull that whole shellfish in Leviticus shit

on me again, are you?

Stephen, what the fuck, man?

It's wrath.

Hey, Cecilia is here. You hit like a girl.

What?

Your stripper.

You asshole. What the hell was that for?

Wrath. Wrath.

Wrath.

Stop flapping your cocksucker at me,

you god-forsaken slug stain of Onan.

A good Pope just died, and the new Pope is a faggot.

This world is fucked for salvation.

Sure. But me and the guys, we put a little birthday thing together.

Christ's birthday ain't for another week!

Christmas? Angus, it's April.

Your birthday is today.

Hmm.

Augustine Interfaith Order of Hellbound Saints, Brooklyn Parish.

That's Bernard Weinberg.

Hand me the fucking phone!

Bernard Weinberg? You sure?

Ah.

Yes, understood, Your Excellency.

Rabbi Weinberg. Fuck.

They said he was a librarian.

A rabbi is a rabbi is a rabbi.

The laws of man mean shit to the Prince of Darkness.

Men of God are Satan's Pearl Harbor.

It's where he starts wars.

I am going to need a second.

Who is damnation ready?

I'm five for seven.

Get your kit.

So my partner took the one witness he had down to the hospital.

They think they can get the four fingers

re-attached back on to his hand

if they can get them out of him in time.

Not sure about the fifth finger.

No flashing lights, no helicopters. We don't want the press.

Hey, hey, I get it.

Don't worry.

I'm gonna have to lock you guys in there.

If I do not hear anything by dawn...

I am going to have to call in SWAT team.

If we are not out by dawn, burn the whole fucking building down.

And here, in case you find the other finger.

Oh, and there is an ear. There should be an ear in there, too. Okay?

Are you damnation ready? Absolutely?

Uh...

You got any Eucharist?

Fuck you, cracker.

I'm ready.

What the hell?

Oh, shit!

Oh, shit!

Where is my master?

Shit!

I command you!

In the name of God!

Once and for all consign that fallen tyrant into the flames of hell!

We know what you like.

Christ compels you back into the pit!

And all your whores, Father Anus, you sodomite! Strike terror, Lord,

into the beast laying waste your vineyard!

You are as steeped in filth as any of the damned!

Abso-fucking-lutely!

And I will see all you cocksuckers in hell.

I got him! Do it!

I compel you, unclean spirit, and all your minions...

I command you to obey me!

I, a minister of God,

despite my unworthiness...

Larry, holy water.

I only brought one.

Oh.

Help me!

Where is my master?

Judas!

My master wants a man of God!

He will get one.

What are you doing?

We're going to hell together. No!

Take me. I welcome you in.

You and all your minions.

I had to find the Bible section.

King James, motherfucker!

Let's finish this.

I am only the hound of Surtr.

Good for you. Send us a postcard from hell, huh? Let him talk.

I am only the hound of Surtr.

I flush the game.

Where is my master?

Thirty pieces of silver for your services.

My master wants a man of God.