Nicky: Thanks for reviewing! Yay! –bows to you- I am absolutely grateful. Anyways, here is what you asked for. More Jay and Silent Bob. Just for you. Okay, so I admit it, I was already planning on fitting them into this chapter anyways. But...uhm...-squirms- Let us just pretend it's just for you, kay?

gundam metatron0084 : Thanks you for reviewing, and much thanks for saying you enjoyed my interpretation of the Metatron. If I had ruined him it would have resulted in disaster as I, like you most likely, love Alan Rickman to cuddly bits and pieces. Please, keep reading and reviewing! And thanks again.

Lady Lestat: Thanks as well, keep on reading. Oh, and the best part is, you won't have to wait any longer. Because here they are!

NOTE: Crude language and humor, parents strongly cautioned!

Chapter Two

[And So It Starts]

She remembered a man. Or she had dreamed about a man. A man with wings, claiming to be her guardian angel, a Metatron. He had appeared by her beside, bursting into flames, claiming he was the only thing standing between her and an eternity in hell. Literally. However, had it all been a dream; some wicked nightmare that swamped her mind so intoxicatingly that it seemed like reality? Reality. What was reality? Reality and it's opposite floated around in her brain like the stuff in a Lava Lamp. Morphing into shapes and engulfing one another relentlessly. She groaned and shifted positions, sprawling onto her stomach. The rustling of the sheets was magnified to the sound of glass cracking right next to her ear. Glass. Drinking. Ugh. That was when she remembered the tequila- lots of it. She needed to pee. Badly. Another groan, as she went to throw the covers off her.

Surely, she must have been drunk. Terribly drunk. Coming home she remembered normalcy, then the next thing she new some gorgeous man with wing's had appeared at her bedside. Too good to be true. Too scary to be true. Too true to be true. He had claimed he was the Metatron, the voice of God, Herald of the Almighty. He had been sent by "Him" to rid her of the entire unholy and impure thing's she had done in her lifetime. There was a series of tasks he had listed to her as well, but many of his words were nothing but mumbling phrases streaming through her mind. Streaming. Flowing. Rushing. She really had to go pee. Again, she pushed the covers off slowly, a tiredness succumbing her terribly. She had to go to the washroom so very intolerably, but at the same time, wanted nothing more than to descend into a deep sleep.

Then, she felt a gentle hand settle on her back, a familiar tingling sensation run through her chest, and a warm breathe, rich with the smell of tequila and mint, caressing her ear.

"Rise and shine, love. We've got our work cut out for us." It was the same voice she'd heard last night, the same regal tone with English decent, telling her of all that was related to her destiny. The Metatron.

In a quick rush, she bolted up and turned, twisting the sheet around her quickly, cracking her skull on the headboard and wincing as pain bounded inside her head.

"Jesus! Fuck! Shit! What the hell are you doing here?" She demanded, her eye's closed as she rubbed the back of her neck in sheer agony, "How the fuck did you get in my house? How long have you been standing by my fucking bedside? Why did you fucking touch me? Don't ever fucking touch me! Aren't you going to fucking speak?"

"Dude," Another voice called out from the end of her bed, "I like this chick, she's got a fucking temper. Buuung."

Alessia's eye's shot open, her jaw dropped, and she gasped in horror. Now aside from the Metatron, there were two other men standing behind him, looking her up and down. Looking down as well, she realized she was wearing nothing but a T-shirt, and in result of which; clung to the bed sheets a little tighter than before. The first man was slightly taller than the second, with dirty blonde hair hanging limply on his shoulders, a black hat tugged over his ears. He dressed like any normal teenager of the time, baggy black jeans, a T-shirt, and a haphazardly set sweater over his horrible excuse for shoulders. His blue eyes were glimmering with a mischievous angle, and he smirked and nudged the second man.

"And she's wicked ass hot. SCORE!"

Alessia groaned in dis-satisfaction, as the second man smiled and nodded in a foolish manner, licking his lips apprehensively. He was shorter than the first, and hadn't yet spoken. His build was slightly heavier set, and a dark chocolate goatee hung around his pale face. Clad in a dark green baseball cap, covering his shaggy locks of russet, and a pair of jeans, a T- shirt with the Rolling Stones logo, and a green velvet jacket that ended somewhere around his pudgy ankles.

"Wow, Tron, you never said she was fucking hot!" The first man rubbed his hands together, as if devising a plan of action, and Alessia watched in horror, "Man, I'd do her in a second!"

"I never said she was ugly either," Metatron huffed, shooting Alessia an apologetic look. She tried to return the favor, but the urge to pee and the want to know whom the two dumb asses standing beside him were, forced her to not feel so apologetic.

"Dude! How many time's have you been in this sweet little broad's bedroom?" The first man asked Metatron, nudging the angel forcefully. Alessia felt as though she was going to be sick. Terribly sick, and if she had any control of her aim, she'd force it onto the nasty little prude in a second.

Metatron sighed, and shrugged, his words spoken with a tone of offense. As if he actually cared about her, "The young woman's name is Alessia. Please, call her Alessia. Alright? And, twice but that's hardly the-"

"TWICE? Chick's a whore! Shizzam!" He interrupted, turning to high-five the shorter one. Alessia made a disgusted click of her tongue and pulled the covers up over her head.

"You do know, asshole, that I'm sitting right in front of you?" She snapped, as she pulled the cover's back down again, running her fingers through her platinum blonde hair with a slightly shaking hand.

"Oh, hey, sorry, baby." The first man spoke raising an eyebrow as he came towards her, Alessia groaned at the pet-name and moved further up towards the headboard of her bed, feeling oddly cornered, "I'm Jay, and this is my hetero-life mate Silent Bob. We're prophets."

"Prophets?" Alessia mouthed silently to the Metatron, eye's wide. He simply shrugged.

"God's got a wicked sense of humor, you know." The Metatron said defensively, but Alessia found it no excuse. All she found was that her need for a restroom had increased over the last seven minute's of senseless conversation.

"We're prophet's, and we're here to teach you-" Jay outstretched a finger in Alessia's direction, "How to be fucking holy!" And with that he mocked the gesture of crossing himself.

Alessia snorted haughtily, and shook her head in disgust, "Uh huh. You two stoners are prophets, and he's the Metatron...blah, blah, blah. You know, I really need to take a piss. So, if you aren't going to rape me pointlessly or something...do you think I could go before I wet my fucking bed?" Her sarcasm was sharp, and she narrowed her eyes at the three.

"God, Alessia. What's it going to take for you to believe all this? It's all true!" The Metatron sighed, watching the girl as she shifted in her seat. Then, placing a finger on his dashing chin he added, "You know what, I think you know it. I think you're just afraid..."

"Afraid?" Alessia raised her voice, "Afraid?" She repeated, laughing sardonically, "Of two grungy men and a fucking angel appearing at my bedside? Ya, that might be fucking right!" She screamed, her crystal blue eyes bearing into his of deep auburn.

"Speaking of fucking..." Jay began, but was cut off as Alessia bounded from bed.

"Excuse me, your holy-ness." She mock bowed to Metatron, and turned to Jay and Silent Bob, "And you as well, Prophets. But, if you aren't going to gang bang me, I need to take a piss before I'm goddamned late for work!"

"Speaking of work," The Metatron began, "There's something you need to do about that."

"Oh ya? WHAT?" Alessia hollered as she made her way down the hallway, entered the bathroom, and slammed the door behind her. The entire upper- level of the house rumbled at rattled at the force of the tension.

"Uhm, you need to..." The Metatron started loudly, but added at a mumble with an added cough, "Quit."

"I can't hear you!" Alessia screamed from the bathroom, through the door, the sound traveling down to her bedroom perfectly.

Jay smirked, and said in the same tone, "THE ANGEL DUDE SAID YOU NEED TO FUCKING QUIT YOUR FUCKING JOB!"

There was an odd silence, as the sound of Alessia throwing up the rest of her tequila echoed through the room.

"What is this bitch, PREGNANT?" Alessia heard Jay retorting, "She ain't? She's hung-over? Shit. Girl's a party slut. Man, it's gunna be a long fucking day."

He was right. Well, on one account. It was surely going to be a long "fucking" day.

Alessia needed an Aspirin...and another tequila.

A/N: Okay, so that wasn't one of my best chapters. –shrugs- I'm in the middle of writing a series of thing's. Well. Hope you keep reading, I'd like to see some replies. –shrugs again- Next chapter's hilarious. I almost peed myself writing it. Seriously. Stay tuned! –show-tune plays as she dances off-