When the great Flying Spaghetti Monster extends His noodley appendage to you…

Will you deny Him, and be cast down into the darkness of the underburner, where you shall be cooked and cooked again until at long last The Great Stove Cleaning sweeps you away?

Or will you accept His al dente love and carried up to the everlasting marinara, where the meatballs frolic through the angel hair fields and the parmesan falls from the sky like virgin snow?

Can I get a rAmen?!