So's this preacher, see, he gets up in front of his whole — congregation, like. Standin' behind his pulpit, lookin' a right handsome devil, collar 'n that, and he says to 'em — he says: "Now, I've good news and bad". The people, they're listenin', o'course. Hangin' on the bastard's every word. "The good news", preacher says, "is we've enough money for our new buildin' program." They cheer, righ'? Oh, yeah, man. They're lovin' it. [ he cups a hand at the side his mouth, sound at the back of his throat imitating a roaring crowd. in a stage whisper, he follows up with a get off, reverend, yeh beautiful eejit! ]
[ he outstretches his fingers, waving, then, relaxing the imaginary group. ] He's got his hands out, he's calmin' those charmin' sods down. "Bad news," he tells 'em, "is it's still out there in yer pockets."
[ there's a moment of silence, his expression blank. it contorts, then, and chuckles himself stupid into a bottle of whiskey. ]
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