Annie: I never wanted to be your mother.
Annie: I was scared. I didn't feel like a mother. But she pressured me.
Peter: Then why did you have me?
Annie: It wasn't my fault! I tried to stop it.
Annie: I tried to have a miscarriage.
Annie: However I could. I did everything they told me not to do, but it didn't work. I'm happy it didn't work.
Peter: You tried to kill me.
Annie: No, I love you!
Peter: [crying] Why did you try to kill me?
Annie: I didn't! I was trying to save you!
Annie: It's heartening to see so many strange, new faces here today. I know my mom would be very touched, and probably a little suspicious.
Steve: You know, Annie, you can always build a shrine to all the terrible things in the world, but it doesn't mean that you have to destroy anything that is good.
Steve: Come on, Peter. Wake up.
Peter: You okay, Mom?
Peter: Is there something on your mind?
Annie: Is there something on *your* mind?
Peter: Just seems like there... might be something you... wanna say.
Annie: Like what? I mean, why would I wanna say something so I can watch you sneer at me?
Peter: Sneer at you? I don't ever sneer at you.
Annie: Oh, sweetie, you don't have to. You get your point across.
Peter: Okay, so, fine, then say what you wanna say, then.
Annie: I don't wanna say anything. I've tried saying...
Peter: Okay, so try again. Release yourself.
Annie: Oh, release you, you mean?
Peter: Yeah, fine, release me, just say it! Just fucking say it!
Annie: DON'T you swear at me, you little shit! Don't you EVER raise your voice at me! I am your mother! You understand? All I do is worry and slave and defend you, and all I get back is that fucking face on your face! So full of disdain and resentment and always so annoyed! Well, now your sister is dead! And I know you miss her and I know it was an accident and I know you're in pain and I wish could take that away for you. I WISH I could shield you from the knowledge that you did what you did, but you're sister is dead! She's gone forever! And what a waste... if it could've maybe brought us together, or something, if you could've just said "I'm sorry" or faced up to what happened, maybe then we could do something with this, but you can't take responsibility for anything! So, now I can't accept. And I can't forgive. Because... because NOBODY admits anything they've done!
Joan: Oh, hey, hey, hey. It's alright. Charlie, you're alright, now. You... are Paimon. One of the eight kings of Hell. We have looked to the northwest and called you in. We've collected your first female body and give you now this healthy male host. We reject the trinity and pray devoutly to you, Great Paimon. Give us your knowledge of all secret things, bring us honor, wealth, and good familiars. Bind all men to our will as we have bound ourselves for now and ever to yours. Hail, Paimon!
Worshippers: Hail, Paimon! Hail, Paimon! Hail!