Which was when the curtain was swept aside and four men, each in the black soutane that encapsulated their clericality, strode into the room, forcing MacFarlane, by virtue of their combined Christian bravura, to step backward, trip over the discarded sumo suit and end up performing a perfect pratfall that jarred his spine: "whoodafukayoo?" he gasped and spluttered, at which one of the four, who by now had him surrounded, doffed his amaranth biretta, leaned menacingly over the panicked, sweating figure and introduced himself and the other three: "me, I am Archbishop Carlos Charisma, these are Bishops Mathias Mę́rit, Bartholomeo Bombast, and Gonzalo Gilravage – you seem surprised to see us, no?" and the prone figure spluttered: "whaddayawan?" at which each produced a silver cross and they held them towards him, as if warding off evil spirits: "b b b b b but?" he stuttered, at which the Archbishop sneered: "ah donno why it is, but nobuddy ever expects the Spanish Inquisition!" and as four bloodcurdling laughs, "mwaHAHAHAHA!" filled the room, MacFarlane promptly fainted.