Constantine - The Novelization - Whoa is (Not)

"You're better off without another drink, John."''I'm pulling demons out of little girls. Who's that for?"Gabriel smiled with exquisite condescension. "All you have ever done, you have done foryourself. To try to earn your way back into His good graces. Simple commerce. So don't nowcome whimpering to me because you're scared of going to Hell."Constantine lit a cigarette, eyeing a nearby Bible as he spoke. "I've read the manual. Everconsider you're the ones with the problem? Impossible rules. Who goes up. Who goes down.And why. Why? You don't even understand us." He blew a smoke ring at Gabriel. "You're theone who should go to Hell, halfbreed."Gabriel stood, a single fluid motion that was more a thought in action than the movement of ahuman body. He glowered down at Constantine. "I am taking your situation into account, but donot push me.""Why me, Gabriel?"Gabriel's reply was telepathic. Why you! All mortals die and when they do they all say, "Whyme?""It's personal, isn't it? I didn't go to church enough? Didn't pray enough? I was five bucksshort in the collection plate? Why?"Gabriel looked into his eyes. "You're going to die because you smoked thirty cigarettes a daysince you were fifteen. And you're going to Hell because of the life you took." He shruggedsadly, sweetly. "You're fucked."--In another part of the room, Angela, talking to Father Garret, looked over. "Who is that man,the tall one, Father?""Ah - I rather think you wouldn't believe me. Listen - about what's happened to your sister -you've got to accept the tribulations that come to you. Accepting our lot is what it's all about,Angela.""You can do something, Father. She has to have a Catholic funeral. She has to.""Angela - suicide is still considered a mortal sin.""She didn't commit suicide.""The Bishop believes otherwise, my dear. It's out of my hands. You know the rules, Angela."She looked at him pleadingly. "Father... David. This is Isabel!"He looked at the floor, not knowing how to answer. Angela went on, "God was... I think Godwas the only one she ever believed loved her."He just looked at her. Unyielding. "Please, Father…."--Angela's eyes were wet before she reached the rain falling outside the Theological Society.She stepped back a moment, under the eaves, to watch the rain come down. Thousands of tinylittle splashes on the ground. Thinking of Isabel, hitting the water of the pool, oozing blood....She heard a cough and turned to see the rude man standing on the other side of the door,smoking a cigarette down to the filter, looking as if he'd been burned down to the filter himself.He looked up at the rain. "At least it's a nice day." She just looked at him. What an odd man.Something about him..."God," Constantine said, "has always had a rotten sense of humor." He threw the cigarette intoa puddle. "And His punch lines are always killers."There was a taxi waiting nearby - the driver, a young man, leaning over to shout through thewindow as it rolled down. "Constantine? Come on, it's raining! Hey!”So his name was Constantine. She watched as he ignored the taxi and trudged off into therain.