Rufus: So what do we do now?
Metatron: Well, I say we get drunk, because I'm all out of ideas.
Bethany: Were they sent to Hell?
Metatron: Worse. Wisconsin. For the entire span of human history.
So once he's done with the firstborn, Loki takes his friend Bartleby out for a post-slaughter drink. And over many rounds, they get into this discussion about whether or not murder in the name of God is okay. Now, Bartleby can run circles around Loki intellectually, not to mention that Loki's already half in the bag. And in the end, Bartleby convinces Loki to quit his position and take a lesser one that doesn't involve slaughter. So - very inebriated - Loki tells God he quits, throws down his fiery sword, and gives Him the finger. Which ruins it for the rest of us, because from that day forward, God decreed that all angels could no longer imbibe alcohol. Hence all the spitting.
Bethany: I don't want this, it's too big.
Metatron: That's what Jesus said. Yes, I had to tell him. And you can imagine how that hurt the Father - not to be able to tell the Son Himself because one word from His lips would destroy the boy's frail human form? So I was forced to deliver the news to a scared child who wanted nothing more than to play with other children. I had to tell this little boy that He was God's only Son, and that it meant a life of persecution and eventual crucifixion at the hands of the very people He came to enlighten and redeem. He begged me to take it back, as if I could. He begged me to make it all not true. And I'll let you in on something, Bethany, this is something I've never told anyone before... If I had the power, I would have.
Tell a person that you're the Metatron and they stare at you blankly. Mention something out of a Charlton Heston movie and suddenly everybody is a theology scholar.
Human beings have neither the aural nor the psychological capacity to withstand the awesome power of God's true voice. Were you to hear it, your mind would cave in and your heart would explode within your chest. We went through five Adams before we figured that one out.
Metatron: However, if you should decide to stop being selfish and accept your responsibility, you won't be alone. You'll have support.
Bethany: What, more angels?
Metatron: Prophets. Two of them. The one who speaks - and he will, at great lengths, whether you want him to or not - will make mention of himself as a prophet. The other one... well, he's the quiet type, but he'll be helpful just the same.
Bethany: What's he like?
Metatron: God? Lonely. But funny. He's got a great sense of humor. Take sex for example. There's nothing funnier than the ridiculous faces you people make mid-coitus.
Bethany: Sex is a joke in heaven?
Metatron: The way I understand it, it's mostly a joke down here, too.
Jay: Get offa me. I wanna see what's up. What the fuck is this shit? Who the fuck are you, lady? Why the fuck did you hug my head?
Metatron: Quite a little mouth on him, isn't there?
Jay: What the fuck is this, The Piano? Why ain't this broad talking?
Metatron: I believe the answers that you seek lie within my companion's eyes.
Jay: What the fuck does that mean? Has everyone gone fuckin' nuts? What the fuck happened to that guy's head? I want some...
[God kisses him on the cheek. Jay faints]
Metatron: I am to charge you with a holy crusade.
Bethany: For the record, I work in an abortion clinic.
Metatron: Noah was a drunk. Look what he accomplished. And no one's even asking you to build an ark. All you have to do is go to New Jersey, and visit a small church on a very important day.
Bethany: New Jersey? That doesn't sound like much of a crusade.
Metatron: Aside from the fine print, that's it.
Bethany: What's the fine print?
Metatron: [mumbling] Stopacoupleofangelsfromenteringandthusnegatingallexistence.
Bethany: Wait, wait, wait. Repeat that.
Metatron: Stop a couple of angels from entering and thus negating all existence. I hate when people need it spelled out for them.
Wax on, wax off.
Anyone who isn't dead or from another plane of existence would do well to cover their ears right about now.