Dear God Page #4

Bin E. No state.

No clue, no hope for you.

Ready to try, new guy?

Yeah, sure. No problem.

Let's see... Bin D. Wrong address.

Negatory. Not just wrong, but Bin B.

Smudged and torn.

- God!|- Sugar, it's not that hard.

No. This is addressed to a Mr God.

Easy. He gets a lot. We put|all the "Dear God" mail over here.

In the loony bin.

Bin C.

Subdivided into loony bin boxes.|We got one for Superman, Elvis,

the Tooth Fairy,|the Easter Bunny and God.

And any kind of Martian.

All yours, new guy!

Now don't forget, Santa Claus|has his own bin over here.

Don't nod at me on your first day.

I gotta get to know you.

OK...

Just cos you live across the street|doesn't mean you can come and ogle.

- What's the new manager's name?|- Gloria McKinney.

She created great new recipes|for me.

Don't even think about it. You're not|imposing yourself on that girl.

One Banana Karenina coming up.

Morning, all.|Theo, one Colombian to go.

- Who's that?|- Joey's mine and Josh is his friend.

Joey, nice-Iooking... turkey,|Santa Claus-thing you got there.

- He hates Christmas in California.|- Why's that?

Well, Jersey has snow and everything.

OK, time to go. It's late. Joey, I'll|walk you to school. Get your coat.

Heard you got busted.

What? No.|That was this acting thing I did.

A crime re-enactment for TV.|A cable syndication thing.

I'm just a little curious.|Does anybody buy your BS?

Lately? No. But I did get|a job with the US Post Office.

Honest, I've been there a week.|Even bought new shoes. Look.

- Nice.|- Aren't those great?

I heard it was|the Post Office or jail.

- How does everybody know my life?|- Well, I knew about it.

- You know I work at the Post Office?|- Yeah. We heard.

All our friends in Indiana|know you work here.

Junior is afraid|you won't make enough to pay him.

Tell him to take a Prozac.|He can have my first paycheque.

Well, buddy,|we know where to find you.

- "Kirkland asleep?"|- "Out like a light."

I'm a much better actor|than those guys.

This guy can't act.

You ever read|these Dear God letters?

No. Me and God have an agreement.

I leave His mail,|He leaves my "Soap Opera Digest."

- Are you a postal cop?|- No.

"Dear God, we've gone on|rent strike at the Normandy Arms

but we still don't have running water|or hallway lights."

"Before the winter rains come,

I'd like to cover the broken window|in my boy's room with plastic

and somehow get hot water.|Thank you, Lord, for your help."

"Yours sincerely, Marguerite. 2F."

The eagle has landed!

- What've you got there?|- Nothing.

What the hell's going on here?|Is this a fire drill?

Excuse me. Hi. You mentioned|the eagle. Is that important?

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