Preacher

- I had him. - So let's make him suffer.

Please keep your seatbelts fastened.

We're running into some minor turbulence.

Whoo-hoo-hoo!

Vampire coming up.

Where is she?

I haven't seen her.

I'm gonna break out of these,

- and then I'm gonna kill you. - Aah!

This is between me and you! Not him!

What do you do now?

Whatever the hell I want.

Can I come?

_

_

_

_

_

_

Need to get to the Lost Apostle.

Driver's license and c-c-credit card, please.

The Lost Ap-postle, eh? Amazing place.

Th-Th-This'll just take a jiff.

Came up with the Bionic Ear here, you know?

What?

Uh, the, uh, uh, Bionic Ear.

This is where they invented it... in Melbourne.

Bit of trivia. Free of charge.

Ha.

Problem?

S-S-S-S-Sorry, sir.

It, uh, seems we don't have, uh, any cars available.

What about those?

Well, uh...

th-th-they're reserved for M-M-M-M-M-M-Moth...

Mother's Day.

Whatever it says there on that screen of yours about me...

wanted murderer, armed and dangerous... it's a lie.

I'm not armed,

but I do have the power to make people do as I say.

Laugh. Cry. Kill.

Anything.

One time, in Texas, I made a cop mace his own balls.

But I don't want to do that here... Jaxon.

See, people been gettin' hurt.

I gotta cut back on usin' it.

Problem is, if I don't get to where I need to go,

pretty sure the whole world is gonna end,

and everyone's gonna die.

So I'll leave that with you.

I'm askin' you to rent me,

of your own free will, a rental car.

Thank you.

Jaxon...

...you don't stutter.

Thank you.

And in other news,

authorities continue an international manhunt

for the preacher behind the pervert rampage.

There's still no word on the whereabouts

of the missing New Zealand Deputy Prime Minister.

Sources say...

_

Eugene.

_

Eugene can take care of himself.

If The Saint wanted him dead, he'd be dead, right?

Right.

Eugene.

...The bloody ponce was turning 'em into vampires

and just killin'.

Also, he could turn himself into a cat,

flittin' about in the sky like some kind of sexy pirate.

Dick. What'd ya do?

I turned the rest of his followers, then they ate him.

- Nice. - Uh-huh.

I mean, Christ, it doesn't compare

to fightin' all the Nazis on a bus ride to Hell, but...

Eh...

...kept me fit.

Mm. Right there.

What happened to your hair?

Hurtful. Hurtful.

It's good to see ya.

And you, Cass.

Slà inte mhath.

Yeah, that.

Effendi.

Oh, yeah. Need a shit, shower, shave.

Oh, a-and a phone.

In back room.

Gotta call a, uh, certain lady.

- Oh. - Hmm.

Jesus Christ, huh?

I know, right?

Guy's a bloody handsome devil.

I guess.

So, speakin' of handsome devils...

Did you tell him we slept together?

Did you tell him we had sex?

I'm not mad. Just tell me.

Did you?

Yeah.

- Nissa, look. - What?

Bad news.

The search continues for the man who police say

brutally murdered a group of innocent sex tourists

here in the Middle East.

The manhunt grows as the Holy Man

turned pervert-hating killing machine

was reportedly last spotted in Australia.

Room service.

Good morning, Jesus.

Your breakfast is here.

Oh!

Oh, Jesus.

Due to my negligence, Tulip O'Hare and Cassidy

have escaped Masada, as has our political prisoner.

I've also failed in my duty to track down and locate

the Holy Child.

For these reasons...

...I'm ready to die.

I'm ready, too.

Mm?

Gone? Where?

Did you check the leper lab or the pediatric-cancer wing?

He loves those sorts of...

Hmm. Mm-hmm.

Proceed.

Hmm.

Mm.

You have no authority.

Don't you dare.

Or what? You'll get your brains on me?

Or I'll get your brains on you.

I'll take my chances.

Idiot.

Problem, sir?

They can't find Jesus.

Sir, please, I think I've earned the right

to be executed by you and you alone.

Uh, how can I get anything done when the phone won't stop?

You've earned the right to drop dead

and get rolled into a tarp, Flufferman.

That's what you've earned.

What?! How dare he?

Where the hell is Hitler?

So close, Mein Frau.

So close.

- Ah, Herr Starr. What an... - Aah!

Ugh!

Do you know what's at stake, what I've been promised?

The apocalypse is going to happen,

and no teeny, tiny tin-pot is going to get in my way!

While I'm here, the Messiah.

Now that you've laid eyes on him,

how did he seem to you?

Fantastich, Mein Allfather.

Congratulations.

F-Finally, a Messiah we can believe in.

Hmm.

_

_

_

_

'Cause he knows if he doesn't, I'll hurt you.

Move it out!

Coming in now.

Quiet.

Listen up.

Let's go.

Hunted down like a dog over an orgy murder.

I mean, this is why we need to stick together, isn't it?

Mm.

You know, it's all my fault.

It's not Jesse.

He turned up like a good friend should.

He said, "Look, I know we've had our differences,

you and I, but that doesn't matter right now

on account of you getting repeatedly foreskinned

by a meat-handed Italian man.

Christ, he was there to stop it. He'd come to help.

And do you know what I said to that?

Do you know what my stupid, selfish response was?

- "I'd rather be circumcised." - That's right.

Which means I got a lot of work to do to make it up to him now.

So maybe goin' down to Australia to rescue him

from whatever godforsaken mess he's got himself into

seems like a pretty good start, doesn't it, you know?

All right, so go on. Let's hit the road.

- Go and get our boy. - No, thank you.

What'd you mean by that?

It means I ain't goin'.

You don't really mean that.

Gotta fix the car.

Dust in the carburetor.

Then we're takin' off.

Tak... takin' off w-with Jesus Christ?

Mm-hmm.

He wants to see Las Vegas.