That Un-Presentable Dark Scene

Now we see the same two visitors in white, racing through town on Main Street, through the town’s stop signs, on the sidewalks and through the town’s only stoplight. They were moving through cars, trucks and people as if they weren’t there, (you'd think these guys were angels or something). Their destination is a small church across town where we see a new young pastor finish’s setting up the sign for the next Wednesday night service “How to control your strong willed kid before he takes control of you.”
“Great topic, especially for the author of this book,” said the short visitor as they came to stand right behind the young pastor as he was cleaning up and getting ready to go inside, the pastor unaware of them behind him.
“What? This is a book? Man this stinks! I thought this was going to be a script for a new blockbuster movie! That does it! I want to talk to my agent, where’s my agent?”  The tall and skinny one said, looking around for someone. He had pulled out his cell phone and was about to type in a number.
“Uh, Larry, you don’t have an agent. And besides this is a spoof of a very popular book that was done in the eighties.” the short one said, calming his friend down.
“Oh…ah…well in that case, where were we?” Larry said putting away his cell phone.
They turn to see the town behind them. Small and friendly, you know who your neighbor is type of town. The local diner would have your dinner out on the table before you got out of your car. The bank teller called you by your first name and the paperboy delivered the paper to your hand with a smile. As the original author wrote; “like the background for every Norman Rockwell painting” (Again, sorry Mr. Frank).
Something moved in the shadows down the street. The sun was setting and the darkness was creeping in, the pastor was no longer outside; he had just gone in the church.
“Something is out there. We are not alone,” said the short one, he was pointing out into the darkness.
“Where, John?” Larry asked, looking around and not seeing anything. “The pastor went inside.”
John (who is the short, stout, has a good deal of hair, and a little tummy) disappeared behind the church wall, while skinny, tall, and lanky Larry stood there trying to see what his counterpart saw.
“What did yo…Hey? Ouch! Whoa! What are you doing? That hurt, man!” Larry said, while being pulled through the church wall.
“Shhhhh!” ordered John. “Over there down the street, beyond the traffic light. You see it?” He pointed again, out toward the street and yes to This College Town’s only traffic light. (It’s a small town, what can I say?)
Larry still didn't see a thing, and then turned to say something to his comrade who was shaking. Was that fear? Was his comrade really scared?
“No man, I’m not scared. It’s cold in here, really cold.”
“Who were you talking to John?” Larry asked, looking around the room. There was no one there.
“The narrator, who else?” John answered while looking at the thermostat on the wall. The A/C was on.
“You’re losing it. There is no narrator. It’s all in your head,” Larry said, scratching his head.
“No. He is for real.”
“You are crazy.” Why do I get stuck with crazies? Why me? What did I do to deserve this? Larry said to himself.
“Who are you talking to, Larry?”
“Myself. I’m talking to myself. OK?”
Meanwhile, while John and Larry are talking to themselves, behind a large ford pickup truck lurks a large dark and sinister shadow; he was looking for a fight, looking for a soul, looking to get in the church that sat before him.
As the shadow approaches the front door, he looks around and sees two drunks arguing down the road to his left as they left the local tavern. To his right he sees a dog marking his territory by a fire-hydrant. All is quiet as he approaches the door to the church and tries the door knob. It’s locked. He then pulls on the knob. Still nothing, so he grabs the knob with both hands, placing both his feet on each side of the doorframes; he pulls with all his might, and still nothing. He finally backs away. The two drunks are now gone and so is the dog. He backs up all the way to the only traffic light that’s almost two blocks away from the church. He looks around again to see if anyone is watching and still sees no one around.
He starts to move forward, (His feet not moving but he is picking up speed). The first run, he hits the door and was thrown back to where he started, as if he had hit a rubber door. So he got back up off the ground and restarted the bull charge, moving slowly at first, then he starts to pick up speed once again. Now moving real fast, like a racecar on the last lap trying to win; then like a train at full speed going downhill without brakes. As business and street lights flashed by, the shadow flew across the town straight for the church. Door in sight, licking his lips, he readies himself for the impact. Suddenly–Hey, wait, where did that cat come from?–he trips over a black cat that just happens to cross in front of him as he was approaching the side walk that led to the front door of the church and found himself flying straight for the door like a rocket out of control, screaming. Suddenly, the door to the church opens; a bright light shines from inside. Blinding his eyes, he flies inside the church.

The report from the dark shadow (who reported in burnt clothes) submitted to his superior, was inconclusive. It said he hit a trip wire and the whole place went up in a big flash of light. The church was gone with everyone in it. However, what he failed to mention was that he tripped over a cat and flew through the church door, which somehow opened by itself and he landed in the kitchen oven on the far side of the building. The door had suddenly opened by itself and the oven had been turned on (that would explain why his clothes are burnt like black toast). With a loud yell and the words (and using his best Yosemite Sam impression) “my biscuits are burning, my biscuits are burning” were heard by our two visitors as he left the church and out of town.
What the Dark Spirit failed to see was John, who was by the front door of the church and opened it for the shadow to fly in and watches as the shadow headed straight to the kitchen where Larry opened the oven door.
No one to this day knows where the cat came from. In fact some would say that the cat just happened to be passing in front of the church. And why was the young pastor kneeling and praying late at night at the altar in the church sanctuary?