Father Slathe creeps into the situation surprisingly without his pet anywhere in sight. Plucking an ember tipped Honey flavored Cuban from his wet and bushy caterpillar lipped mouth. Puckering his lips Father Slathe begins to blow smoke rings into the face of Samuel who still has the loaded gun in his hands. Parting the two aggressive African American males like Moses parted the red sea. Father Slathe steps through with exuberant advice.

Father Slathe: "Brother's, brother's please let us play nice. Black on black violence is never the answer. Isn't Whitey already causing enough problems for yall? Never mind, continue. I am only here because someone spoke of a dead man."

Father Slathe continues toward Theo Pryce's newly installed desk. Puffing on his cigar a couple times before exhaling the delicious clouds of cancer. Stopping right at the edge of the desk, standing tall and proud in his priest-like attire. Looking down at Theo in his chair at his desk looking all relax, calm, and collected. Father Slathe smirks devilishly as he takes a couple more drags before blowing smoke rings once again but this time not in anyone's direction. Rubbing his mustache a couple of times before opening his mouth to communicate his feelings to the new half-owner of the XWF.

Father Slathe: "Hmm!? So you're the new big veiny swinging DICK around here huh? So you want to speak to the XWF Champions I hear? You even had the respect to call them out by their names. Very classy. Only one problem partner, you referred to a dead man. Now I am not entirely blaming it on you because you haven't been around for awhile. Mister Tidbits is no more, the one who represents the Television Championship around my waist is known as The Monster of Htaed (huh-th-odd)! Just thought you should know since you must be an important fella and all. Oh yeah and if you're not a believer, you probably shouldn't go looking for The Truth, it could kill YOU!"

Father Slathe takes a couple more drags on his cigar before flicking a nice solid chunk of ash onto Theo Pryce's desk. Father Slathe tosses his hands up and gives Theo the most mockingly and humorous look of "oopsy daisy" you could imagine. Chuckling his arms and hands fall back down to his side as he spins around stepping away towards the exit of Theo Pryce's office, puffing on his Honey Cuban while whistling a sharp and cheerful tune.