The epic meeting that you have been waiting for is about to come to pass. As it is written:
Verily, I say unto you beware the end times. For ye know not when it shall happen…perhaps on some balmy Wednesday evening about half-six…but happen it shall.
And, yea, he shall come like an out-of-town guy on a business trip in the night. And the Great Spaghetti Monster and his minions (sauce, garlic bread, a little Caesar salad, beverage of your choice) shall be consumed.
Two men enter. One man leave. (But only ‘cuz it’s his house, and I gotta go back to the hotel. *shakes fist*)