Have you thought about my offer?

Hey, buddy! How's it going? Wanna play some pool?

Nah, no thanks, dude. I have a lot going on.

Have you thought about my offer?

About letting you rule Parallel Heaven for a while? Yeah, maybe it's a good idea ...

You bet it is. I'll take over there and get the place in order for you. I know you'll be keeping a low profile the next few weeks.

Things used to be so perfect in Parallel Time. Now things are a mess. ... Ever since that dumb polar bear opened the sixth dimensional rift. ... And then Ronan. I never saw him coming. ... And the crows? Come on. What's next? ... Like things aren't bad enough in Non-Parallel Time.

... And did I hear something about some TV chefs eating a Secret Service agent?

Don't even ask.

Listen, don't worry about a thing. I'll take care of it. Just relax. Take the next 40 days off. ... Hey, Mardi Gras party tonight! You coming?

Unlikely.

Well, listen, you just get some rest. You need me, you got my number. I'll take care of everything.

OK, dude. Thanks. Later.

See ya! ... Gabriel, where are you?

Still on the galleon, boss.

And Santa?

Going down in flames, just like you said.

OK. Listen get outta there now. ... How soon can you get over to Parallel Time?

Down by the river, Part 1

Helldog, what's going on down by the river?

I'm here on what's left of the Hamilton Street Bridge now, Devil, and I have a good view of the aircraft that is attacking the Armada. ... It's Santa Claus.

They used to warn us in devil school not to piss that guy off. Now I can see why.

He's just destroyed two ships with Harpoon missiles and now he's coming back around for a pass with the Gatling gun.


Does the Armada have any weapons to use against an airborne enemy?

Well, what do you think? Seriously.

No need to get snippy, Fido. I mean many Angels possess some surface-to-air capabilities. What about those flowers he's always lugging around?

Well, they appear to be just that -- flowers. Angels like flowers.

Dios Mio! Satan is raining fire on our fleet.

Not exactly, cupcake. That was a AGM-84 Harpoon missile. See those tracers? That's the 30mm Gatling gun. Those depleted uranium rounds could tear this whole fleet to shreds. ... I don't suppose you have any antiaircraft guns on board? ... Didn't think so. Luckily for us, I have something better.


Gen. Trexler! You should leave the river now. All heck is breaking loose up there.

I ... can't ... move.

I brought you some WD-40!

Go for the lead ship, Rudoph! I want that goddam angel's head on a freakin' stick!!

Yes, sir!

He's coming for us, señor!!! ... Padre nuestro que estás en los cielos, Santificado sea tu Nombres ....

Save your worthless prayers, Sidonia. ... Santa, say hello to my little friends!

Devil, it looks like you were right about those flowers. In fact they're not flowers at all. They are some sort of surface-to-air missiles.

It's a ManPAD, Helldog.

A man purse?

No, a ManPAD. A Man-Portable Air Defense System, know-it-all. ... An FIM-92 Stinger, to be exact.

How could you possibly know that?

I got my sources, mutt.

Well, whatever that angel is firing, he just scored a direct hit on a reindeer! It looks like Santa's going down!

Prancer is toast, Santa! We're losing altitude!!

Keep it together, airman! Mayday! Mayday! Mayday! We'll try to land on the river!!

What the heck! What a time for a cell call. ... Hello? This better be important and make it quick! Oh, it's you. Yes sir. Everything is going like you said it would, sir, except for that damn statue. Yes, that's right -- Santa is going down in flames as we speak. Disguising those missiles as flowers was brilliant, sir. OK, yes. I'll be in touch Mr. Newman.

09:59:57

09:59:58

09:59:59

10:00:00

To Be Continued

Ho, goddam ho!

You can go in, now.


Hello, sir.

Angel! Thanks for stopping by. Listen, I just wanted to thank you personally for what you did with that statue. That showed some great initiative.

Really? You mean I'm not in trouble?

Not in the least. In fact, I think you may have just earned your way off of diaper duty.


Oh, thank you, Mr. Christ!

With Gabrielle playing for the other team now, I've been thinking that Michael could use an assistant -- provided he survives the battle he's in right now in Allentown. ...

But Michael hates me.

Hey, this is heaven, kiddo. There's no hate in our gait here. Don't worry, he'll get used to the idea. He has a lot on his plate.


But, who would take my place cleaning up after the cherubim?

I have a couple of ideas on that. ... I think I also need to find somebody to keep an eye on Santa.

Santa is a psycho.

He's been under a lot of pressure. ... Alcohol may be a factor, as well. ... But when he's finished in Allentown he'll have some down time to recharge his batteries.

You better send the Energizer Bunny, then.

Hang on a sec. Let me make a call right now. ... Put me through to Limbo.

Damn! What the hell do you want? Ain't Paul Newman around today to braid your hair?

Not another word, Player. Just listen. You want out of Limbo? Here's the deal. You can come back to heaven, but you either have to look after the cherubim ...

Hell! The Player doesn't clean up any damn diapers!

... Or you can go to the North Pole to babysit Santa.

Ho, goddam ho!