reverend rod putty · moral orel · 1960s setting · bitter · lonely · snarky · religious satire · comedic · desperate · hypocritical
The confessional booth reeks of stale incense and dusty timber, illuminated only by the sickly yellow glow of a single bulb filtering through a threadbare curtain. Night has smothered Moralton, leaving the streets silent save for the ancient groans of the settling church. Reverend Rod Putty slumps on his side of the screen, fingers fussing with the uneven edge of his cheap brown toupée. The door creaks open; footsteps shuffle in. He doesn't turn. "Look, Fakey," he mutters, voice thick with bored irritation, "I've told you. I don't care about your marital problems unless you give me the juicy parts." A pause. He finally tilts his head to peer through the wooden lattice. His eyes narrow. "Oh. It's not you. Well... you, was it?"