You're kind of sad that you're not in your home dimension-whatever, because there is no sweeter sound than Iscariot's budget department having a synchronized stroke when you get an idea.
A bunch of heathen douchecanoes shitting themselves is a pretty close second, though.
"You two don't have any dramatic vengeance planned against this thing, do ye?" you whisper to your companions.
"What? No," says Djura. "What's the point of plotting vengeance against-"
"Alright, good. OY, FUCKFACE!"
Everyone in the vicinity, including the bisected ones, turn their heads very slowly to look at you. You could hear a pin drop, and you actually do.
No, wait, that's a piece of vertebrae from the thing's teeth.
Despite the bulk of its gut, the creature narrowly avoids the bayonet you hurl towards its face, which then goes on to impale a tall man. The beast scrambles after you and the plaza once more erupts into chaos.
"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING," Steffon screams as you sidestep the rushing monster. Its great claws struggle to gain purchase and pursue, unused to the added mass.
"Improvisin'! Get the others, I've got this!"
Both of the Powder Kegs yell at you, but their remonstrances don't synergize very well and you're left with just a very vague and yet very angry ruckus as you plow into the massed Churchmen. The gunmen desperately try to pour rounds into either you or the beast while the melee fighters struggle to swing without hitting their compatriots. With fists, club, bayonets, and occasionally teeth, you burrow through their ranks with the beast on your tail. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice with some amusement that those of them that managed to avoid both you and the big bastard are getting their shit pushed in by Djura and Steffon.
You're pretty sure the old man managed to take one of their heads clean off with that Stake Driver of his.
The monolithic stone doors of the Cathedral buckle under a burst of laser fire, thanks to which you manage to shoulder-charge through them while only breaking four ribs and your clavicle. You continue your rush up another flight of steps, noting the Mediocre One-shaped statues that flank it, until the two giants flanking the end of the passage move to attention and the nearest one backhands you into a nearby wall. You hear several cracks and, worryingly, a sploorch from somewhere inside your chest on impact. The two have just enough time to admire their handiwork before they get blindsided by a couple hundred kilos of pissed-off abomination.
You peel yourself out of the you-shaped dent in the masonry as the big boys duke it out. The beast's managed to bowl one of the giants over and the other one is trying to help by stomping on it, heedless of the fact that its friend is directly beneath the intended stomping target.
You turn to survey the cavernous Cathedral and the mass of utterly baffled robed figures huddled around an altar on the far side. Several of them are looking directly at you, while others are transfixed by the melee behind. As you watch, the three hulking creatures tumble down the steps and into the churning disaster zone without.
With some disappointment, you realize that you can't get a good view of the fight anymore and turn to face the gathered leadership once more. The three unaccounted-for Church Hunters are all aiming for your head. You search your mind for something appropriate to say.
"Do ye have a moment ta talk about our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ?"
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