True Confessions

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...after two days in the California desert

in temperatures above 1 10 degrees.

President Kennedy is flying

back to Washington tonight

for a major speech on

international economic policy

before officers and directors

of the World Bank tomorrow morning.

Bill Lawrence, ABC.

Palm Springs, California.

-How are you?

-May I help you?

I'm Father Duarte, the assistant pastor.

-I'm Iooking for Monsignor Spellacy.

-And who might you be?

I might be his brother.

Mr. Spellacy, Eduardo Duarte.

I'm helping the Monsignor out

until he's 100 percent.

He's not 100 percent?

Just a matter of time, Mr. Spellacy.

Just a matter of time.

As soon as I fix the carburetor on the car,

I'm gonna repaint the thermometer.

We're getting the building

fund drive on the way again.

The new St. Mary's is going

to be the flower of the desert.

Hello, Tommy.

I'm sorry, Monsignor,

for monopolizing your brother.

It's just that when I talk about

the new St. Mary's, I get carried away.

That's all right, Father Duarte.

How are you, Tommy? Good to see you.

Father Duarte said

you weren't feeling 100 percent.

Oh, well, who is, Tommy? Who is?

Who is?

This morning after mass,

Mr. McHugh comes to see me.

Nice man, Mr. McHugh.

But one thing about being a pastor

is that no one ever stops by

and rings your doorbell

to tell you everything is just swell.

So when Mr. McHugh stops by,

no, it's not because

he wants to help Father Eduardo

paint the thermometer outside.

No, no.

Mr. McHugh tells me

that his daughter, a Carmelite nun,

is Ieaving the convent

to become a professional bowler.

-What?

-I'm not kidding. A professional bowler.

I didn't even know they had alleys

in the convents these days.

So I said to him I'd say a mass for her.

Maybe that'II help her bowl

a perfect string.

How are you, Des?

Oh, it's a well-known fact

the Irish have more hemorrhoids

than other people. Otherwise...

Look, Iook, Des,

I asked you a simple question.

Now, give me a straight answer.

How are you?

I'm gonna die, Tommy.

You're not kidding.

The arteries to the pump are shot.

Handkerchief, Jack.

Cough drop.

You need a new radiator.

I need a new car.

Got my eye on one, believe me.

OIds 98.

If I hold up a gas station,

maybe I can get a down payment.

Hello, fatty.

It's been a while

since I've been in a $5 cathouse.

I busted this joint once when I was in vice.

They had a girl.

I swear she had two Ieft tits.

Let's go. LAPD.

Down at the right. On the end.

Jesus!

What do you want for five bucks?

Hey.

Been a Iong time.

Yeah.

This joint's quite a comedown

from your place in Hollywood, Brenda.

I used to watch my girls do you,

fatso, through the peek.

You never took off your pants.

-If I did, they'd be standing in Iine.

-Why'd you call?

Down here.

Hi, Tom. You wanna play carnival?

I don't know that one.

I sit on your face,

and you try to guess my weight.

- Heart attack.

- When he was committing a mortal sin.

-Still warm.

-Yeah.

A priest.

A pastor, no Iess.

St. Bernadette's in Redondo Beach.

I know him.

Father Mickey. Mickey Gagnon.

St. Bernadette's.

He used to run a swell game of bingo.

What's he doing in a joint Iike this?

Getting his ashes hauled is a good bet.

A wiz at bingo.

A real pain in the ass at confession.

-AII right, give.

-I didn't take nothing.

Just give it to me. Now!

If you told him you picked your

nose, he'd give you a rosary for penance.

A swell pair of shoes.

AII right, here you go. Come on.

-How Iong was he here?

-It was the second one that did it.

What do you think?

It's gonna make a big hit

with your brother, the Monsignor.

She Iooks Iike a jelly doughnut,

doesn't she?

That's hardly a judicious thing

for a Iawyer to say

about a young bride on her wedding day.

Imagine her wearing white

with something already in the toaster.

Jack, I want to tell you something.

That's a Iittle girl

who'd bring a tear to her father's eye.

He was just talking about

the color of her wedding dress.

Off-white, I think you called it, right, Dan?

Now, remember, Jack,

you're not Iosing a daughter.

You're gaining a bathroom.

How'd the Cardinal Iike the wedding,

Monsignor?

He's sorry he had to Ieave so soon,

but then he's getting on in age.

He Iooks 100, if you ask me.

And when he goes, we know

who we'd Iike to replace him, right, Jack?

-How about some dessert?

-Oh, yeah, sure.

How'd you Iike all the flowers

in the church, Monsignor?

Very nice.

-Set me back four grand.

-Imagine that.

-That's a Iot of goddamn roses.

-Yes, it is.

Every one of them

will be in a Catholic hospital tonight.

If you've got any Ieft over,

you might think of the orphanages.

Yeah. How's the champagne, Monsignor?

Vintage.

French vintage.

None of that California sh*t.

Excuse my English.

Hey, I'II send you a case.

His Eminence too.

Hey, the Cardinal ever go to the track?

Maybe he'II be my guest one day.

I'II give him a couple of tips.

If Jack gives you a tip, you could bet

the Sistine Chapel on it, Des.

That's how I met the Monsignor,

Counselor.

-At Santa Anita.

-Oh, yeah?

I gave him a tip.

Orchestra Ieader. Fourteen to one, huh?

That's right.

Well, you've got a way with Iong shots,

Jack.

Hey, it won by six Iengths.

-Did he?

-Yeah.

Hey, you want some more champagne?

Hey, you!

You two talk while I make sure

everyone's having a good time.

-Okay.

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