Two stolen wheels and five days preparation (for good luck), and they're off.
The five men in a beat up RV barrel down the road at fifty miles per hour, at the request of Father Anna. Brother Perkins sits at the wheel munching at a pretzel, trying to ignore the thumping echoing around the RV and the shaking in his hands. The "Holy Communion" behind him had to be locked behind a padlock, the enthused worshipers banging on the door in a frenzied state.

Communion, within the First Southern Fifth Church of Texas involves significantly more drugs and alcohol than any communion rightfully should. The "Holy Cocaine" was split into five lines and distributed among the congregation, in an attempt to bring them closer to the Starfish. The "service" had dialed down, Brother Hines passed out on the floor, Brother Miller still bouncing around the small mobile home. Brother Jones had declined the offer to commune, and was sleeping in his designated corner.
Louis Anna clumsily stands up, clutching onto a bottle of whiskey.
"Congregation, congregation, settle down, its time for a sermon." Father Anna slurs his speech as some of his whiskey spills on the floor, "The hooooly spirits *hic* uhh, the Five, are really compelling me right now, so sit yer asses up."
A few lazy eyes turn up to Louis as he starts his speech.

Brother Perkins attempts to focus on the road ahead of him. The four hours of driving he had endured thus far was starting to get to him, as his eyes wander to the locked door behind him.
"Nah, I can't ask them to drive, those dumbassess'll kill us all" He thinks to himself as he turned his attention back to the road. An unseen pothole bounces the RV sharply, dislodging the glove box and revealing its contraband…

A sharp jump in the RV causes the previously standing congregation to fall, the somewhat destroyed facade of a room falling apart as any order takes its final breath. Groaning, Louis wobbles to his feet, and turns his gaze to the overturned room, spotting a dark stain growing on the ratty carpet. Brother Miller's red hair takes on a new shade as his blood spills from his head.
Louis Anna stumbles over to Miller, turning him over.
"You uhh, you ok?" Louis inquires of his fallen friend, "Open yer eyes man, that's an order!"
Not observing any response, Father Anna moves to wake Brother Jones, when a loud gasp interrupts his movements. Turning around, Louis Anna sees Miller sitting upright on the floor. Staring at the wall in front of him, he stands…

A dime bag of cocaine, unconsumed by the general congregation, sits in the broken glove box atop a sea of maps.
"I can't do this right now, Father Louis would kill me. 'Sides, I can be strong, I got faith." Perkins thought to himself, attempting, and failing to close the glove box, spilling its contents into the passenger side. The bag of cocaine lays on top of the stack, standing out like a jewel to Brother Perkins.
Brother Perkins hits himself lightly on the face, refocusing his attention on the road, trying to ignore his shaking hands.

Brother Miller never takes his eyes off the wall, as Louis Anna watches incredulously. Stopping just short of ramming into the wall, Miller touched his forehead, letting the blood pool in his hands. Examining the wall like a painter examining their canvas, Brother Miller starts to draw on the wall, using his blood like paint…

With a freshly powdered nose, Brother Perkins doesn't notice the curve in the road in front of him. The crude guard rail falls apart as the speeding truck runs into it, falling down the hill, and into a tree.

The now-unconscious passengers of the RV lay clumped on the front wall of the RV, while Brother Perkins lay slumped at the wheel. The left wall of the RV was adorned with words that read:
★
ONE MORE

The first to awaken, Louis Anna pans his eyes over the ruined RV, his eyes stopping at the bloody mosaic on his wall.
"The… fuck does that mean?"

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