Sawyer considers their offer for a moment, retrieving a cigarette from his suit pocket and lighting it. He shakes his head. "You can have the candles, all the gold except for the collection plates--we need those to hold food if we get stuck in here--and four pews. The iron, bronze, steel and silver get melted. All the art and stone shit in the museums is yours. And just to prove I'm a nice guy, we'll leave the chapel alone, give ya a nice quiet place to do your thing if ya'll want."
no subject