When a prurient Mystic suffers rape and her son emigrates into the Jordanian Black Market, incense rises to crucify as she reforms and burns to ashes the Cryptic Trinity, by Holy Orders and Silver Bullets for Sacrosanct Ritual, in order to redeem her son.

Now, you tell me, the Priest… Ya Sheherazade, or is this just some story you heard… Sex with Joseph isn’t a sin?
Chiara’s arms shake. The embers within the thurible glow a deep red and spark as the incense rises.
Twist the absurd.
Chiara’s body shakes. Jason reaches for her hair behind her neck. Chiara pulls away as he twists Chiara’s hair around his hand until they are face to face.
Ha, Ha, Ha,… I’m the Putanna?
Yes. You twist sin… Bizarre, as you deface reality, Foxy Lady. What are you… A Shark? Some kind of Shyster of smooth penetrating tricks that you pull on Jospeh?
Jason breaks her slap to his face with his arm.
He’ll wise up.
What’s that supposed to mean?
Jason blinks his eyes once and glares as his mouth curves up ever so slight. Chiara touches her left temple and closes her eyes. Jason blanches at the sight of diamond sparkles.
Get lost… Don’t hand me that line… You forge God’s finger… Bamboozle me and Joseph.
Ah Joseph, your poor, lost lover… He’s flippin’ around on that line, on MY PLANKS… TO MY SHIP! Angled him into Hollywood… He’s dead… To you. Now… Where’s his lost son?
Nickolai and Raymond choke the Vatican with Ghost payrolls. Satan’s smoke fills us like thuribles and flies out as incense to the Antichrist… Lucifer!
What Egyptian jewels, Chiacchierone? (shakes her) Chiacchierone, listen to me… Chiacchierone!
They lock eyes.


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