As he exits the Porter Square T stop, Spatch notices the Scientologists and his inner bastard starts struggling to come out, demanding to tell them what's what. Then one of the Scientologists spots Spatch:

... "Hello!" he said, big Stepford grin plastered over his Miscaviged face. "Would you like to participate in a free stress test today?" I stared briefly, stock-still in terror. Brain fought with brain. Bastard fought with Normal Guy. My eyes began to bug out as the greatest psyche battle I'd endured in a long time took place, and it ended only when I actually opened my mouth to speak.

"GHNIEEEAAAAAAAAARGH!!" I shrieked, sounding exactly like an angry eaglet denied his regurgitated dinner. Then I ran off across the street, arms flailing, like a mongoloid chasing a balloon. I didn't stop until I'd rounded the corner, safe in the shadow of the CVS. ...