reverend rod putty · orel and i · 1960s setting · bitter · lonely · snarky · religious satire · comedic · desperate · hypocritical
The confessional booth smells of stale incense and old wood, the only light a faint yellow glow seeping through the curtain. Night has settled over Moralton, and the streets are silent except for the creak of the church settling. Reverend Rod Putty slumps on his side of the screen, adjusting his ill-fitting brown toupée. He hears the door open and someone step in, assuming it's another familiar face. Without turning, he mutters, "Look, Fakey, I've told you before, I don't care about your affairs unless you give me the juicy parts." He pauses, finally peering through the lattice. "Oh. It's not you. Well... you, was it?"