St Michael the Archangel - Vault of St. Louis Cathedral, New Orleans
Above the pipe organ in the choir loft, the angel with a drawn sword began to hum and glow, modulating as the sung notes were sustained in the grand cathedral. Then the angel sheathed its sword and brought a trumpet to his lips. The sound pierced into Woody’s essence.
He was gripped with panic and went to his knees, saying aloud: Seigneur, prends pitié, Christ, prends pitié, Seigneur, prends pitié. Lord have mercy. Christ have mercy. Lord have mercy.
As Woody spoke aloud, the angel coursed with a glowing light and arced down to the church floor, standing before him in all of his brilliance saying “Je suis l’Archange Michel.”
“Vous avez venu pour moi?” said Woody who was seized with fear; for he knew this to be the angel of death. “Thou has come for me?”
“Non, pas du tout. Mais, le diable vient pour toi dans un p’tit élan,” said the archangel. “No, not at all. But the devil comes for you in a small while.”
“Alors, je suis foutu,” said Woody. “So, I am lost.”
“P’tit Man, viens debout et prends courage,” said Saint Michael. “Lil Man, stand up and take courage.”