"I'm so sorry to hear about your loss, Maggie." "Thank you, Father, you've a comfort." "Did your husband have any last words, my Dear?" "Yes, he did, Father. Maggie, put down the gun."
Father Rumsfeldt sat there in the confessional that Saturday afternoon. No business. He was getting bored. Finally his mood lightened when he heard the footsteps of a man. He heard the door of the confessional open then close. Silence. More silence. Yet more silence. Finally, Father asked "Could I help you my son?" "Maybe. Is there any toilet paper on your side?"
