Stealing God’s Authority

It was a modestly sized holding cell. A crucifix hung in the most central spot outside the prison. Inside the iron bars sat a man with messy hair. He had a full beard and a thoroughly dejected look on his face. The strong mixed stench of smoke and alcohol clinging to him made him smell like salted fish that had been pickled for ages. Who knew how long it had been since this guy last took a bath. Not far from him sat a rather skinny man.