[EXT. CATHEDRAL OF THE HOLY CROSS, BOSTON.] 

[Cut to INT. The archbishop, Sean Patrick Cardinal O’MALLEY, stands at the pulpit, calmly delivering Sunday Mass to a full crowd.]

O’MALLEY: I wish to call upon one of our own flock to deliver the next reading for today’s Mass.

[A loud belch echoes through the cavernous sanctuary.]

[TAWMMY stumbles down the aisle and tries to fist-bump the archbishop on the way up to the pulpit. He does not reciprocate.]

[TAWMMY thumbs through the well-worn artisanal Bible adorning the lectern, trying to find the page to read from. He cannot find it, and instead chucks it over his shoulder, to some gasps from the front pews.]

TAWMMY: Fack it, let’s get stahted. OK, listen up. I’m wingin’ this shit up heah, so calm youah tits if I dick it up.

[An old lady faints in a nearby pew.]

TAWMMY: Jesus prawbably said sumpin like dis one time aftah he’d had a few, I bet:

Theyah was a coach who had a quahtahback. They won many championships and set all kinds of records togethah. One day, thah QB said to his coach: “Coach, gimme a pay raise and a roster worth a fackin’ pot to piss in. I won you six fackin’ Supah Bowls.” Thah coach said no, because he thought he was too old.”

So the QB fackin’ left.

He got all his shit togethah, set off foah sunny Florida and theyah squandahd all his good will with his formah fans when he won anothah fackin’ Supah Bowl with his new team. Aftah he won, theyah was a severe championship famine wheah his old team was, and his services were-ah cleahly in need again.

But he wouldn’t fackin’ come back.

He went and signed himself a fackin’ extension, furthah enraging those good, loyal fans from his old team. HE REFUSED TO COME TO HIS FACKIN’ SENSES. NO ONE DENIES THIS!

[Another old lady faints in a pew.]

TAWMMY: Thah coach saw thah quahtahback’s success and grumbled. He knew he had some work to do to get his shit togethah, since he fell flat on his ass aftah his old QB left and his team racked up some shit luck with injuries and plagues and shit sweepin’ thah land.

Thah coach said, “Bring me some new tight ends.

“A buncha new receivahs.

“Gimme some new guys who can pass rush.

“Completely re-do thah linebackah setup and add some safety help.

“Tell thah stahh cornahback to stop bitching about his fackin’ contract. Kick thah Israelites offa thah rostah, for good meashahh… Oh, and make sure-ah you draft a new QB. A guy who’s a good fit ta replace thah old guy in style and fohmm… and who’ll be a good ‘cultchah fit’, if ya know what I mean, wink wink nudge nudge.

“And keep thah othah QB as a cayah-takah foah a yeahh oah so to let thah kid leahn thah system.”

And thah local spahts media pundits began to pahhty.

Meanwhile, thah old QB was out on thah practice field. When he came neah thah lockah room, he heard phones buzzin’ and TVs glowin’. So he called his trusted personal trainah ovah and asked him what was goin’ on. “Youah replacement has finally come,” he replied, and youah old coach has finally spent money because he has faith in thah new kid.”

Thah old QB was fackin’ PISSED. So he was determined to extract his revenge on his old team when they squayad off foah the first time since his depahhtchuh last yeahh. He went out and talked to his old coach, “You fackin’ prick! All these yeahhs I slaved foah you and never disobeyed youah ordahs. Yet you nevah gave me even a young receivah so I could always go deep. But when this new guy of youahs who hasn’t done shit to eahn a rostah spot comes along, you roll out the red fackin’ cahhpet!”

[At this point, the congregation is visibly agitated. Some muffled boos can be heard in the back of the sanctuary.]

TAWMMY: “Well,” thah coach said, “you ahh still always with me, and everythin’ I have is because of you. But we had tah redo this rostah and be glad, ‘cause this team was dead and is alive again; we was lost and now ahh found.”

Thah QB stood silently and pondahhd this foah a moment.

“Also,” said thah coach, “You litchrally won a Supah Bowl just last yeahh and heah you ahh now, still whinin’ about us. Sayvah what you have. Owah fans should move on – I’m sure-ah many have awlready. I see a strawngah season in owah fyootchah… prawbably at least 10-7 and a playawff game at the least. Why fixate on the past? Focus on the fyootchah!”

[Boos continue to rain down, and O’MALLEY walks briskly towards the pulpit, but TAWMMY refuses to stop.]

TAWMMY: THANK YOU FOAH LISTENING TO ME TODAY – TO SUM SHIT UP, IF JESUS WERE HERE-AH, HE’D ALSO PRAWBABLY SAY FUCK TOM BRADY AND GO PATS! BRADY’S BETRAYAL IS AN AFFRONT TO BAWSTON AND TO GOD!! NO ONE DENIES THIS!! AMEN!!

[The cardinal is furious. He re-takes his place at the pulpit.]

O’MALLEY:  My son, you were supposed to read Luke 15:11-32 today. I don’t know what your intention was in coming up here today, but you have besmirched the reputation of this sacred institution, and, more importantly, the word of God. If you do not publicly repent your egregious sins, I have no choice but to have the Pope himself excommunicate you.

TAWMMY [packing a lip as he responds to the archbishop]: FACK YOU! This hoahseshit has cut into my fackin’ pre-gamin’ time and budget foah yeahhs! I only even fackin’ stumbled in heah in the first place because a fackin’ snowstorm cancelled a Bruins game at the Gahhden back in ’87 and I didn’t know what the fack else to do with myself aftah we’d stahhted drinkin’ at 5 AM that day!! Honestly, Fathah, Jesus was prawbably pretty tight as a guy, but you and these old facks heah make it borin’ as shit. If you can’t deal with havin’ fun, then get facked. GO PATS!

[Tawmmy grabs a bottle of communion wine and tosses it back in one chug. As he shuffles out of a side door of the cathedral, a surprising number of people choose to get up and leave their seats as well. The pre-gaming awaits – and eternal damnation may not. They seem fairly comfortable with their decision-making, apparently.]