"Clap! Clap! Clap!"
[Give Me Your Phone] clapped his hands like he was banging a gong, the sound unbearably jarring in the deathly silent square!
Not only did he applaud wildly, he even craned his neck, his face burning with fanaticism, and shouted at the Priest on the platform:
"Well said! That was fucking enlightening!"
"With vision like yours, sir, you've utterly crushed the Righteous Gods' Church next door!!"
Standing beside him, [You've Cried Already] reacted just as quickly. Picking up the routine without missing a beat, he slapped his thigh hard:
"Exactly! What the fuck do the Righteous Gods know about freedom!"
"Praise the Holy Lord! Down with those hypocritical Righteous Gods! We want freedom! We want robbery! We want five-finger discounts!"
"May the Holy Lord live to a hundred! You're fucking awesome, sir!"
"Clapclapclapclap!"
The two stood at the very front of a crowd of trembling refugees, applauding and shouting like a pair of lunatics!
Even between rounds of applause, they remembered to frantically give the Priest on the platform thumbs-ups!
The entire square fell silent.
The Cultists standing guard nearby nearly popped their eyes out of their sockets.
The dozens of native refugees stared at the two men in boxer shorts as though they were seeing ghosts.
The Second Tier Priest on the platform still had both arms raised high. He froze on the spot, the corners of his mouth twitching violently beneath his mask.
He had held this position for over a decade and brainwashed thousands upon thousands of refugees.
He had seen people weep bitterly, kneel in despair, and faint from fright...
But he had never fucking seen anyone act as his hype man from the audience!
And they had fucking wished the Holy Lord a long life of a hundred years...
"Ahem..."
The Priest