[Scene: The Star and Garter Ballroom, Empyrean Building, Holy Mother Public Relations. Mary is irritated, a little drunk, and bathed gloriously in a radiant cloud of flies. Martha stands defeated with a fly swatter and a can of bug spray. Miss Bee Honeysuckle nervously buzzes just out of Martha’s reach.]
Mary: Where the hell is he?
Miss Bee Honeysuckle: He’s be here soon your virgin worshipfulness, we left at the same time but he had to go back to, well, to compose himself a little.
Mary: Martha get him on the damn phone. Compose himself? I’ll decompose him myself if he doesn’t show up now.
Miss Bee Honeysuckle: You know how he is, your heavenly motheringness, he doesn’t like crowds.
Mary: What crowds? There’s no crowds. Show me crowds! Who will come here with all these damn flies. Martha!
Martha: I can’t swat them all, Mary, there must be millions of them. Oh Christ! There’s one on your eye.
[Jesus appears as if from nowhere while Martha swats Mary in the face]
Mary: Jesus Fucking Christ when will you stop appearing as if from nowhere!
Jesus: Hey mom, sorry. Another fly plague? And who’s that hiding under that table?
Miss Bee Honeysuckle: [Bright with hope] Oh thank Jesus, you’re here!
Jesus: No problem.
Mary: Where? Bernard, get out from under there you agoraphobic freak!
Miss Bee Honeysuckle: It’s social anxiety disorder, he can’t help it. But he’s a brilliant exterminator.
Bernard: Bee? is it safe?
Martha: Bernard get your ass out from under that table and get to work! None of us can do anything until these flies are cleared out.
Miss Bee Honeysuckle: [Keeping a nervous distance from Martha] It’s safe enough.
[St Bernard crawls crablike from under the closest table to the door and on sight of Mary vomits on the floor.]
Mary: Great. Now we need carpet cleaners too. Martha?
Martha: [With a careworn heart, a toiler for her daily bread] I’m on it.
Bernard: Sorry about that. Weak stomach. I’ll need incense. Lots of it.
Jesus: I only do food, mom. Wine, fish, bread.
Martha: Jesus you useless dumbass.
Jesus: Hey Martha, how’s your sister?
Martha: She’s out back sucking balls.
Jesus: Where? Out back? Mom, I’ll go look for incense. Be back in a while. Soon. Be back soon.
Mary: Oh here. [Mary claps twice. Incense smoke wafts from all directions. The flies multiply]
Bernard: [With a compelling voice and look] Flies, if ye will not hear the church let thee be to thee as the heathen and publican. Whatsoever you shall bind upon heaven, shall be bound also in the Emperian building; and whatsoever you shall loose upon heaven, shall be loosed also in the Emperian building. Flies, hear me now. You shall be excommunicated at once statim, ipso facto. Res sacræ, ritus, communio, crypta, potestas, prædia sacra, forum, civilia jura vetantur.
[The flies drop instantly to the floor, dead. At least three inches deep of the bloody things.]
Miss Bee Honeysuckle [eyes wet with contrition]: Oh St. Bernard, you honey sweet teacher!
Mary: Thanks, Bernard. Martha, get a shovel.
Bernard: No, No, Miss Honeysuckle will do clean up. No extra charge.