Ant found out he was on a church flyer because Vice was laughing too hard to breathe.
Not normal laughing either. Demon-pet choking, rolling, claw-slapping-the-floor laughing.
Ant walked into the kitchen in gray sweats, half awake, scratching his chest. "Why do you sound possessed?"
Vice, tears in his yellow eyes, slapped a folded paper onto the table.
Ant picked it up.
On the front was a bright smiling picture of him from the waist up, chain visible, hands clasped like he had seen the light, with giant gold letters above his head:
COME BACK TO THE SPIRIT
Youth Revival Night at New Mercy Temple
Under that, in smaller text:
Hosted by Pastor Bone
Special Guest Testimony: Anthony Varela
The kitchen went silent for half a second.
Then Nyla fell against the fridge laughing so hard she almost dropped her phone.
Celeste covered her mouth, which somehow made it worse. Ramon slapped the table and wheezed like an old pickup truck trying to start.
Milo looked impressed. "You look like you forgave all your enemies."
Ant stared at the flyer in horror. "What the fuck is this?"
Vice finally managed to speak. "Nigga, you're the face of repentance."
"I don't even go there!"
Ramon wiped his eyes. "That's what makes it stronger."
Ant turned the flyer over. There were stacks of them. Somebody had left them on the porch, and apparently half the block had already gotten one too.
His photo had obviously been stolen from somewhere online—probably one of the screenshots from the viral toaster disaster. Only now, instead of looking confused and greasy, the crop made him look emotional and weirdly inspirational.
Nyla zoomed in on her phone. "Oh my God. They smoothed your skin."
"That's not the point!"
Celeste took a sip of tea. "The point is, why does Pastor Bone think you've found religion?"
Before anybody could answer, there was a knock at the door.
Ant opened it and immediately regretted waking up.
Mrs. Baptiste stood on the porch wearing church clothes and a deadly smile. "Well. Look who the Lord dragged out of bed."
Ant blinked. "Please don't do this."
She held up the flyer. "You giving your testimony tonight, baby?"
"I don't have a testimony."
She leaned in. "Everybody got one. Yours just probably got cursing in it."
By noon, Grim Borough had fully committed to the bit.
Old ladies outside Rico's Bodega smiled at Ant like he'd been delivered personally by heaven. A man at the bus stop asked him to pray for his cousin's ankle. Somebody in Black Lantern Plaza yelled, "Stay strong, young king!" and threw him a thumbs-up.
Ant came storming back into the house. "I can't even buy juice!"
Nyla was on the couch crying laughing. "You got church auntie support. That's a powerful demographic."
Ramon looked proud for no reason. "Honestly, this could be good for your image."
"My image?"
"You were just viral for fighting a toaster. Now you got range."
At six-thirty that evening, Pastor Bone showed up in a cream suit, polished shoes, and the calm expression of a man who absolutely knew he was causing trouble.
Ant met him on the porch. "Take my face off the flyer."
Pastor Bone smiled. "Son, the people connected with your look."
"My look?"
"Confused, tired, burdened, a little handsome. Very relatable."
Ant stared at him. "That is insane."
Pastor Bone lowered his voice. "The original speaker canceled. Your picture tested well."
From inside the house, Nyla shouted, "Ask him how much the Lord pays!"
Pastor Bone sighed. "There is a fish plate and a small honorarium."
Ramon appeared behind Ant instantly. "How small?"
"One hundred."
Ramon looked at Ant. "You're preaching."
"I'm not preaching!"
Celeste folded her arms. "You don't have to preach. Just stand there, say something vague about change, collect the money, and leave."
Ant looked around at his whole family.
Vice grinned. "Congratulations. You're an accidental man of faith."
Three hours later, Ant stood behind the pulpit at New Mercy Temple in a borrowed button-up, sweating under soft lights while half the town stared at him expectantly.
He cleared his throat.
"Uh… what's good, everybody."
Pastor Bone closed his eyes in disappointment.
Ant glanced at the fish plate waiting off to the side, then straightened up.
"Sometimes life burns your ass like a haunted toaster," he said. "But… you still get up."
The church went dead quiet.
Then somebody in the back shouted, "Amen!"
Ant blinked.
Oh no.
This was working.