Sinners Are Winners [bxb]

Chapter Twenty-Two

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO- Vandalizing the Local Church

"Wait! They what?!"

"What I just said." Grant shrugged. "They did it."

"How?" Xavion blanched. "Why?"

"Because we kept ignoring their petition," Grant explained, shrugging.

Xavion's eyes widened. "And you didn't tell me when you got back yesterday because..?"

Grant rolled his eyes. "You were pissing on the floor. I didn't think you were in the right state to hear about it."

I frowned and thought for a moment. "So... Renee's church somehow alerted that angel of our existence?" I asked. "And that's why we were attacked? The church did it?"

"They went on a really long rant about how the angel was supposed to separate you from Xavion's influence for good."

Xavion scoffed.

"But how did they do something like that?" I inquired. "Mass prayer?"

Grant shrugged, slipping a jacket over his shoulders. "I don't know. If anyone knew how to summon an angel, I would think it'd be you."

I thought about it for a moment. "I genuinely don't know. Maybe they got lucky and sent the right prayer up? God usually only answers, like, 3 of them before he retires for the day."

"Not all prayers get heard?" Grant asked, raising an eyebrow.

I shrugged. "They do, but usually by angels and we can't perform miracles." I paused for a bit. "Maybe that dick was on prayer duty, heard about the church's dilemma, and came down to check it out?" I thought out loud, surveying Grant and Xavion's faces for their thoughts.

Xavion pursed his lips. "It's possible." He rolled his eyes. "What did they even say?"

Grant snorted. "They literally said 'well, maybe we wouldn't need to hire an angel assassin on you and your friend if you had just paid attention to the petition we so kindly pestered you with'."

"That's such a dick move," Xavion remarked. "I have half the mind to burn their church to the ground."

Grant swept his wallet up and pocketed it. He glared at Xavion. "Do not vandalize any churches while I'm gone. Or commit arson."

"Where are you going?" I asked.

He shrugged. "More job shit. I have a few interviews and whatnot today." He sharpened his eyes and glared at Xavion. "And all I want is for you two to have a normal, chill day while I'm gone. I swear to fuck, guys, I'm serious. No assassin angels, no church vandalisms, no getting drunk with Jessica's grandma, no pissing on the floor, no new piercings, no random prostitute visits. I want you two acting like 50s housewives when I get home."

Xavion smirked. "So, what I'm hearing... is that you want us naked, cooking a nice, hot, steamy meal in the kitchen? And then we'll crack open a wine together and you'll complain about your day at work. We'll complain about how Timmy just got a bad grade on his math test. You'll spank Timmy, and he won't learn anything disciplinary-wise but he'll need therapy in the future. And then, later that night, you'll spank us-- kinkily this time because we are having 50s themed sex."

"That's the absolute opposite of what I want."

"Oh, so you want us to be the sad, lonely, depressed 50s housewife that's secretly sleeping with the neighbor to fill the void in our chests. Because you've stopped loving us-- if you ever really did love us in the first place. And we just buy copious amounts of Tupperware to feel useful, even though we both know we're withering away in these walls. We could have been scientists, solving the 50s medical problems. But, no, we're watching our disappointment of a son, Timmy, grow up a failure as we slowly begin to rely on alcohol to numb the pain. And you start coming home with lipstick on your neck, reeking of your secretary-bitch Carol's perfume. And we wonder why, just why, we aren't good enough for you."